Little fatty, it’s time for your biggest, most embarrassing belly-stretching feast of the year. Look at you, sitting there, ready to gorge yourself like the greedy little piggy you are. You can’t help it, can you? You live for this—the chance to stuff yourself silly while I watch.

I’m going to stretch and expand that gut of yours until it’s so swollen it looks ready to burst. I want to see new stretch marks appear as proof of how far you’ve let yourself go. No whining, no excuses—you’re here to eat, to serve as the gluttonous little piggy I’ve trained you to be.

Little fatty, it’s time for your biggest, most embarrassing belly-stretching feast of the year. Look at you, sitting there, ready to gorge yourself like the greedy little piggy you are. You can’t help it, can you? You live for this—the chance to stuff yourself silly while I watch.

I’m going to stretch and expand that gut of yours until it’s so swollen it looks ready to burst. I want to see new stretch marks appear as proof of how far you’ve let yourself go. No whining, no excuses—you’re here to eat, to serve as the gluttonous little piggy I’ve trained you to be.

Little fatty, it’s time for your biggest, most embarrassing belly-stretching feast of the year. Look at you, sitting there, ready to gorge yourself like the greedy little piggy you are. You can’t help it, can you? You live for this—the chance to stuff yourself silly while I watch. I’m going to stretch and expand that gut of yours until it’s so swollen it looks ready to burst. I want to see new stretch marks appear as proof of how far you’ve let yourself go. No whining, no excuses—you’re here to eat, to serve as the gluttonous little piggy I’ve trained you to be.

I know you can’t resist making me happy, little piggy, so I expect you to finish every last bite. Not a crumb left on your plate. Imagine how ridiculous you’ll feel as the heavy grease from the turkey and gravy slides down your throat, pooling in your belly like a heavy sack of lard. You’ll waddle under the weight of it, helpless and bloated. Then, I’ll smother you with even more carbs and oil from the mac and cheese, leaving you shiny and slick from all that grease. You won’t even recognize yourself—just a big, greasy mess. A perfect piggy.

And don’t think you’re done yet. Oh no, piggy. There’s dessert waiting—more than you can even fathom. Did you really think I was joking when I wheeled all this food out for you? Wheeled it. Imagine that. You’re so far gone you need your feast delivered to you like the helpless, gluttonous thing you are. You better oink for me, piggy. Smile through your humiliation and eat up—every bite, every crumb. This is what you’re made for.