"American Size: The Movie"
a story by ScareGlow

“Alright, Veronica, listen to this this. I got you a deal with Paramount, romantic comedy, gonna be big, real big. Also they are gonna be paying you A LOT.”
“Morris! That's great. I knew you wouldn't fail me,” said Veronica. “So what are the details?”
“Well, hon, it's about a woman, struggling to lose weight, dates a bunch of losers. Then she hires a hunk of a personal trainer, falls in love with him, they get married. Standard stuff.”
“Oh, not one of those fatsuit movies. Can't they use CGI or something?”
“Yeah, about that...you remember 'Hollywood Diet'?”
“That movie was a total bomb.”
“That's because they used CGI. Movies with fatsuits haven't been doing too well at the box office either. Audiences want something more.., realistic, if you catch my drift.”
“You mean...I have to put on weight for this one?”
“Now you're using your head.”
“Well, I guess that's alright. I could put on twenty, lose it right after the shooting's over.”
“Who said anything about twenty?”
Veronica gasped. “You mean...it's...more than that?”
“I am looking at the contract right here...says...let me sees...'no less than fifty pounds, and no more than sixty.'”
“Morris, I am not doing this movie. Fifty pounds!”
“Hey babe, this could be a big thing for you. Get back on center stage. You haven't been in a flick since 'Sleepless in San Diego,' and that one was a dog, you know it. Frankly babe, it's a wonder you're still paying your electric and gas.”
“Morris!” Veronica started to get angry, but she knew he was right. “Well, how much are they paying?”
“That's the thing. They're gonna do twenty.”
“Twenty...”
“Mil.”
“Oh my god! Are you serious?”
“They couldn't get anyone else to do it. Angelina Jolie and Scarlet Johansson were the top choices. Said no right away. They went down the line, everybody was busy or scared about that fifty pounds thing. So they raised there price, still no action. Paramount still considers you an A-lister, despite some of the things that have happened lately, or not happened, shall we say? By the way, what's the mortgage payment on your place?”
“I don't know, my accountant is supposed to handle it, but he ran off with half of my money. I haven't paid it in...oh god. They're gonna repossess my house if I don't get some work soon! Aren't there any other prospects?”
“'Fraid not, princess. Looks like you gotta take this one, or get a one way ticket back home. ”
“Morris...just let me think about it til tomorrow.”
“Not much to think about, but alright. Anyway, I got to go babe, I think they want my new prospect for the lead in Police Academy 9.”
“Bye, Morris. Love ya...I guess.”
Veronica went jogging, then thought about dinner. She wanted to go to Spago, or Cut, but she certainly couldn't just walk in without a reservation like she used to, not on Friday night at least. Plus most of her credit cards were maxed out. She went to whole foods and paid cash for some groceries. Around midnight, she went to bed. Lying there, she ran her hands across her perfect abs and trim buttocks. Then she imagined herself fifty pounds fatter, with a gross jiggling belly, love handles, thunder thighs. She shuddered. The next day she woke up to a creditor's phone call. Looking in despair at the mail, all bills, she picked up her cell phone. She stared at the entry for Morris Weinberg. Veronica moved her hand to shut her phone, but then pressed the green button and pulled it to her ear. She told Morris she'd do it.
---
“Veronica, for god's sake, just try to stick your tummy out. It's been three weeks, you don't look like you've gained a pound. Hold that hamburger up to your mouth.” Morris turned to the cameraman. “Alright, take some pics.”
Veronica meekly pulled her shoulders back and bulged her belly out. “Remind me again what we're doing?”
“It's a press release, hon. They're gonna put the pics in US Weekly, with a story about the movie.” The cameraman took his pictures and left.
“You know, you could actually eat that thing, might help.”
“It's a Big Mac. You don't know what they put in these things.” Morris looked at Veronica sternly. She took a petite bite, followed by another, gradually forcing down the entire hamburger.
“See, that wasn't so bad. Anyway, you only have eight months to gain fifty pounds. You've wasted almost an entire month. You know you have an expense account for food, right?”
“I know, it's just hard for me to buy junk food. I've really been trying to gain weight, though. Last night, I had three oreos after dinner.”
“Three oreos!? That's like what, 150 calories total? Honey, you are going to have to eat like three hundred oreos after dinner. Every day. It seems hopeless, but I have a plan. Make sure you're home tomorrow around 12:00.”
“What?”
“Like I said, just make sure you're home.”
---
The doorbell rang. Veronica raced to get it. A handsome young man stood at the door.
“Hi, are you Veronica Danziger?”
“Yes. Where's your pen and paper. Come on, you have to bring that stuff.”
“Oh, I'm not here for an autograph. Although I am a big fan of your work, Ms. Danziger,” said the man, sweeping a tuft of light brown hair away from his eyes. He looked over her perfect Hollywood body, bereft of any soft curves. “My name is Kevin Cartwright, I'm a registered dietitian. According to my contract I am your weight gain consultant.”
“Did Morris send you?” Kevin nodded. “This must be one of his crazy ideas. I'd love to work with you, but the problem is, I don't need a 'weight gain consultant'.” She started to close the door, but hesitated. It had been a while since she had talked with such a handsome man. Kevin stuck his foot in the door.
“I'm very interested, because I've never had a case like this. Usually, it's people who want to lose weight. Anyway, I hear that it's for a role? Can you tell me about it?”
“Alright, come in. I'll tell you all about it.” Then she told him, as he sat there in rapt attention. Before he left, he asked for the credit card linked to her expense account for food. She gave it to him.
---
There was an enormous bundle of groceries on the doorstep. When Veronica opened the door, they moved into the house on their own accord. At least that was the way it seemed. Veronica then noticed Kevin, who had been obscured by the enormous bags.
“Hi, Ms. Danziger.”
“You can call me Veronica. What are you doing with all that food?”
“Loading up the fridge and the pantry. Look, I got Ding-Dongs, Ho-ho's, Crispy Kremes, steaks, chicken, turkey, sausages, Haagen-Daaz, all sorts of good stuff. Plus some fruits and vegetables. Need those vitamins and minerals.” He unpacked the food and began to put it away. Veronica grudgingly began to help him. “Here, I typed up some daily menus.”
She took the papers from him. “Kevin, there are six meals for Tuesday. And twelve snacks. Are you sure this isn't for like two days? Or a week?” she asked, hoping.
“Just wait till you get to the weekend menu,” said Kevin. “Twelve thousand calories. Anyway, you should get started, you haven't a moment to lose. I'll make breakfast.”
“I'm not even hungry.”
“Alright, put on some shorts and running shoes.”
“But, won't exercising make me lose weight?”
“Just trust me on this one.”
---
“Hm, I guess you were right about jogging. I'm famished.”
“Great,” said Kevin, as he served her a fried egg and two strips of bacon. Veronica ate them, then started to get up.
“Uh uh. Come on, another egg? How about some grits?”
“But I'm full.”
“Come on, you can do it. You want this role, right?” Veronica nodded. “I have to go see another client. Famous actress, though I'm not allowed to say who it is. We need to get twenty pounds off. Funny, huh. Anyway, I'll be back for lunchtime. Try to have some snacks, alright?”
---
Kevin walked to the door and rang the doorbell, as he had done a few times a day for the past month. Only this time, an English sheepdog greeted him. When Veronica opened the door, it began sniffing his crotch.
“Who's this?”
“Oh, that's Rex. I'm dog-sitting for a friend. Hey, I think he likes you.”
Kevin went to inspect the fridge. “This fridge is still pretty full. Well, at least you ate some of those steaks.” He looked at Rex, and imagined that the dog smiled at him, in the way that only an English sheep dog could. “Hey...”
“Oh Kevin, I just couldn't eat them, but I didn't want you to know. I'm so sorry.”
Kevin grumbled. “Let's get you on the scale. You're going to have to take everything off except your undergarments, so we can get an accurate reading.” As Veronica disrobed, Kevin examined her body for bulges of flesh, but could not detect any. He grabbed her buttocks and methodically felt it for any change. He looked at the scale.
“Veronica, it's been a month, and you have only gained three pounds! It's like you're working against me. How long have you been running for each day?”
“Er, forty minutes?”
“And what does your paperwork say?”
Veronica went to her kitchen table. “'If feeling full, take nap or jog for five minutes to regain appetite. Then begin eating again, as much as possible.' Kevin, I was so depressed about the house, and my career, I didn't think I could gain the weight, I just went running every day to forget about my problems. Honest, I only wanted to go for five minutes, I just got carried away. But now I'll never get this role, I'll never be in a movie again!” she started sobbing.
Kevin held her scantily clad body in his arms, feeling her soft, warm flesh, the sharp bones underneath poking him. “Come one, relax. It'll be alright. You just need to get re-focused. Here, this will make you feel better,” he said, handing her a box of Godiva chocolates. Nearly blinded by tears, she put one in her mouth, savoring its complex flavor. Then she ate another. Soon, she was working her way through the box. “Good girl. Just keep it going. You're doing a great job. You are gonna be a star, I can feel it.”
---
Veronica woke up in a good mood. She took out Rex and did some errands. But while she was walking down Wilshire Boulevard she was fixated on two lovers passionately kissing. She felt suddenly like she was the only single person in the world. When she got home, she thought about Kevin. She opened up a box of Godiva chocolates. As she ate them, she recalled his embrace and his assurances. Her mood gradually improved as she finished the small box, but she felt unfulfilled. She went to the fridge to heat up a dish of veal parmesan that Kevin had made. After eating it, she rubbed her bloated belly in an attempt to ease her discomfort, but she was consumed by a desire not to let Kevin down. She brought a box of Twinkies back to her bedroom and watched HGTV while eating them. The sugar was a bit much and she soon dozed off. By the time she woke up, Kevin was at the door, armed with more homecooked meals and more chocolate. He showed up like that, each day, determined to help Veronica gain weight.
---
“Veronica, this is just fantastic. You've gained more weight in the past week than you'd gained all last month. Why, I see you've even started to get a bit of a tummy.”
Veronica looked down at her belly, now more crescent shaped than flat, but still very small. “Well, it's not much, but it's a start. So am I on pace now?”
“At this rate, let's see, by the time eight months are up you will have gained...forty-four pounds. Great, but you're going to have to step it up just a little bit to make fifty. Here, eat this,” he said, handing her a huge bowl of pasta with roasted peppers, sausage and parmesan. “I can make more of this if you like it.” Veronica started to eat it and was soon enraptured by the taste.
“Ooh, yes. This is your best dish yet.”
“Now don't forget, follow up dinner with lots of junk food. When in doubt, use more olive oil. You know, like cover your veggies in it. And remember to nap.”
---
“Veronica! You are looking huge!” said Kevin, eyeing her body. Her breasts were fuller, and her belly was starting to poke out. Her clavicles, though still visible, were starting to fade. “Are you hungry?”
“I sure am,” said Veronica, flush with vitality.
“I have a special treat planned. Come on, get in my car.” They got into his xB and they drove to a restaurant.
“McDonald's? I don't know about this, Kevin.”
“It's a contest to see how much you can eat. And I will give you a prize based on how well you do. Come on, let's start with something greasy, fish filet. Also, chocolate or vanilla milkshake?”
“Chocolate.”
“Right, how could I forget?” Kevin brought back the food and Veronica ate it.
“Alright, what's next? Big Mac? How about some fries. Couldn't hurt. I'll get it supersized.” Veronica downed the Big Mac and fries with considerably less gusto, but Kevin kept coming back with Chicken McNuggets, McFlurries, and BBQ snack wraps, not to mention more fries. But Veronica diligently ate them all. Her shirt was no longer covering her bloated belly, but before she could pull it down, she heard a familiar clicking.
“Wow, great shots,” said one cameraman to another.
“It's for a role, you idiots!” yelled Veronica.
“We know all about it.”
Veronica sighed, thinking about seeing her belly in US Weekly. Or a tabloid. “Oh, alright.”
“Hey, can you stand up so we can get your butt?”
“Don't push your luck.” She turned to Kevin. “So, what's my prize.”
“This,” he said, leaning in and giving her a kiss on the cheek, getting the slightest bit of barbecue sauce on his lips. “And this.” He pulled three more boxes of Godiva out of his knapsack.
“Mmmm, definitely worth it.”
“Which one?”
“Both.” As they walked out, the photographers snapped pictures of her rear, but she didn't seem to care.
---
“Morris! Did you see this article on Perez Hilton?”
“I've read it twice. Good stuff. Anyway, I'm glad to see that this project is going along well.”
“I can't believe he said my butt looks better big! Listen to this 'Although I am usually the first to point out and ridicule a celebrity's weight gain (or former celebrity, but I have a soft spot in my heart for Ms. Danziger), I have to admit that this new junk in the trunk look is a solid improvement on her formerly bony ass. Though of course, one hopes she will not take it too far.' This is ridiculous.”
“Hey, I think he makes a good point.”
“Grrrrr. Well, this is just till we start filming. Then I'm losing it all.”
“Hm, might be a little harder than you think. I hope you can get Kevin to do a 180.”
“I think I can get Kevin to do a lot of things.”
“We'll have to leave it at that. Seriously, though, good job.”
---
“Hey Kevin, how about something a bit more, you know, gastronomique?”
“I know just the place. As soon as it's discovered, it will be the next big thing. But for now, it's just great food, no wait. Let's go.” Kevin took her to his secret restaurant, where Veronica ate heartily. She thought she saw the waiter's eyebrows perk up when she ordered seconds, and two desserts, but it didn't bother her. Kevin was so entranced by her new, more feminine curves that they couldn't wait til they got back to her place. They didn't even have a chance to start the car.
The next day, Kevin didn't come over. When he called, Veronica fantasized about the next date.
“Veronica, I'm terribly embarrassed. What I did last night was totally unprofessional. I let my personal feelings get in the way of a strictly business relationship. I can't be your consultant anymore. I'll leave the expense account card in your mailbox.”
“Kevin, don't you understand? It's the perfect mix of business and pleasure. You're doing your job fine. Don't leave.”
“Veronica, I just can't do it. It's too complicated. Look, maybe we can just be friends. Anyway, I have to go.” He hung up, and Veronica burst into tears. She walked over to the kitchen and devoured a chocolate cake and a tray of muffins. Still crying, she stuffed her face with all the food that she could find.
The next day, she did the same thing. And the next. And the day after that. It was a ritual. In the morning she woke up to gorge herself with piles of eggs, hash browns, breakfast sausage, and taylor ham. Lunch was usually Chinese takeout or a pizza. Where before she struggled to finish two slices, she now routinely finished the whole pie, so she began ordering cinnamon breadsticks and other sides with it. Dinners were based around cheeseburgers, sour cream and chive potatoes, and cheddar covered broccoli. Into the evening hours, Veronica indulged her cravings for Ben and Jerry's, Dove Bars, and brownies made with Valrhona chocolate.
She felt her body growing steadily larger each day. She ran her hands over her belly, where her perfect, no need to airbrush abs were covered by a bulging layer of fat. She would loosen her belt at each meal as she stuffed herself. Then she found herself poking new holes in the end of the belts to make them fit. Soon she didn't really care about belts at all. Her ass was so round that she could barely wedge her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.
Months later, the phone's ringing interrupted one of Veronica's afternoon naps. It was Kevin, just as she had hoped for all this time. He was terribly sorry, and he wanted to come over. Soon Veronica was greeting him at the door.
“Hi Veronica, I...” He stared at her gut, which was hanging over the front of her pants in a slovenly manner, her shirt riding up and leaving it glaring in the sunlight. He looked over her hips and thighs, her arms ringed with fat, her swollen breasts.
“Veronica ...what have you done?”
“What do you mean? I gained weight for the role. Don't you like me?” She looked at him hopefully.
“Eh...I don't really know how to say this. Sure, I said that you looked more feminine, and that you were developing nice curves. But, Veronica, you're...I mean you're positively huge. You're far too fat. You must have gained more than a hundred pounds.”
Veronica was crestfallen. “What do you mean, too fat?”
“Wasn't there something in your contract? A weight limit?”
Veronica phoned Morris. The look on her face told Kevin everything.
“Well, I...I can help you. Remember, I help people lose weight. Let's get to work.”
----
But Kevin's efforts were in vain. Try as she might to diet, Veronica was constantly seduced by a bag of Milky Ways, or a bag of Fritos and a container of sour cream. She wolfed down Kevin's salads, and promised not to eat until he came back for a healthy dinner, but as soon as he walked out the door, she began gorging herself with baclava, chocolate mousse, and eclaires. Her belly stuck out so far that she had to tuck it into her pants. Her sweatpants, since none of her jeans fit anymore. By the time she had to go to the studio, she was even fatter. While working through a massive tray of cookies, she called Paramount to say that she couldn't make it, then resumed eating. Kevin resigned in frustration.
She regretfully mailed her expense account card back to the studio after it stopped working. But in a miracle of sorts, she received in the mail a check from a television series she had done and forgotten about, but had never been paid for. It was enough for a mortgage payment, some new clothes, and a ton of food. She gleefully went to the grocery store, stopping at McDonald's on the way, and at Haagen Daz on the way back. As she walked down the aisles, she felt her entire body jiggling, and as she stopped to pick things out, her belly continued to jiggle until it finally came to rest. She replenished her depleted pantry with cases of candy bars, huge pieces of beef, blocks of cheddar and mozzarella cheese.
She had to hide from the paparazzi, who were after her day and night. But gradually, the photos got out. As her money dwindled, she got a call from a late night show. With the last of her money, she bought the nicest plus-size dress she could get, along with a new pair of Manolos. She geared up for the worst.
---
“Ms. Danziger, people are calling you a role model. They're saying that it's okay to be plus-sized in Hollywood. How to you feel about this?” asked the host.
“I want to encourage all women that they can be beautiful, no matter what weight they are.”
“So what, are you working on right now?”
Veronica was startled momentarily. But she had to put on a good face for all the people who were watching, counting on her. How could she say that she couldn't get work? “I am currently engaged in a number of projects,” she lied. “I think Hollywood is changing. It's a great place to be for a plus-size actress.”
The rest of the interview went well enough, Veronica thought, watching a DVD-R of it the next day. The phone rang.
“Kevin?”
“Uh, no. My name's Michael Pirandello. I'm sort of a...independent filmmaker. Did you ever see that documentary on Somali pirates, 'Savage Coast?'”
“Yes. Well actually, no. I mean, someone told me about, I heard it was very good.”
“Well, that was me. And I have done some other critically acclaimed work. Anyway, I really liked your spot on late night. You see, there was this screenplay I wrote a few months ago, it's called 'American Size.' It's about a beautiful, plus size woman who takes the world by storm. I think you'd be perfect for it. I mean, I don't think we could pay you very much, at least not up front. I know you're a big star. Although you would get back end points on it.”
“You can pay me whatever you want. I'll do it.” It was far from the usual, but Veronica thought about how, retroactively, it made everything she had said on that late night show true.
“Oh, man, this is great. It's just, unbelievable. I can't wait to get started.”
Mike turned out to be not as cute as Kevin. But Veronica was attracted to him nonetheless. She was revitalized by being back on a set, even if it was a low budget one rented from a big studio during off hours. She got a decent sized check for the late night show appearance, which kept the larder stocked. She continued to pile on pounds while working on “American Size.” Plus, even though the budget was small, Mike sprung for good catering.
Mike would ask her out to dinner once a week, to work on plot points and delivery. But they soon found their conversations covering all the bases - music, sports, best white wines, and everything else. They were squeezed into a tight corner of a very good but tiny and busy trattoria. Veronica was sitting in tiny, rickety chair, with her rear end hanging over the edge on both sides. Her belly rested comfortably on top of her thighs.
“And that's why they aren't going to make another Fast and Furious movie, in my opinion. Anyway, can I try one of your prosciutto-wrapped scallops? I've never had one before.”
“Yes, of course,” said Mike. Veronica speared one of the scallops and savored it. “Would you like another?” When she nodded, Mike forked one and put it in her mouth. She gulped it down. After a long dinner and several bottles of wine, they ordered desserts.
“Here, try one of my cannolis,” said Veronica. She held a cannoli in her mouth, then leaned over the table to Mike, who put his mouth over it, kissing her. Then Veronica mashed the cream into Mike's mouth with her tongue, and Mike sent some of the cream back into hers. As some of the cream leaked out of the corner of her mouth, Mike licked it off. They both giggled. When they finished, Veronica rose with a groan, and waddled back to Mike's car, her ponderous belly jiggling from side to side. They held hands.
Their relationship intensified as the filming of “American Size” went on. When they finished, they did the film festival route together, hoping that it would get picked up. After getting back from Telluride, they were recovering in Mike's hipster pad, decorated with fifties sci-fi movie posters and racks of vinyl, watching a documentary about an Iraqi heavy metal band.
“Mike, do you have a scale in the bathroom? I really want to weigh myself.”
He nodded. “Is it alright if I...come with you? It's...very exciting for me.”
“Oh yeah, it's fine. In fact, I would kind of like you to come, it makes it more thrilling for me.” They walked to the bathroom, where Veronica disrobed.
“Got to get an accurate reading,” she said. They both stood there in anticipation, watching the dial spin from zero to two hundred fifty...two seventy one...two seventy two.
“Mmmm...two hundred seventy two pounds. Since I started at one thirty, that means I've gained...one hundred and forty two pounds. And I feel great about it.” She lifted up her huge gut and let it slam down against her thighs, then she danced a little bit on top of the scale. Mike stood there, nearly delirious.
“Come on, Mikey.” She led him to his bedroom. “I'm already undressed, how about you?” Mike stripped down like the Flash. Veronica pushed him down onto the bed, then jumped on top of him. She pinned him down. Mike mushed his face against the soft flesh under her arms, glistening with sweat. She twisted herself, sitting on his face.
“Do you like it when I sit on you?”
“Oh, yes, I...like it a lot.” They spent the next hours exploring every aspect of their bodies. Veronica loved the contrast between her soft, jiggling flesh and Mike's muscular body. Mike kissed her ample belly, ran his hands through the tender folds of her back fat, and nuzzled his face between her two enormous thighs. When they were done, Mike nodded off briefly, holding Veronica's huge body. His cell phone woke him up. He answered it and talked for a minute.
“Veronica, it's Paramount. They really liked “American Size,” and they're picking it up for national distribution! Oh, man!”
“It's funny how these things work out,” she said, holding Mike close.