This is an unusual piece for me. Though a real woman of her size would be bed-bound and covered in saggy rolls and cellulite, she's far more realistic than I usually portray. Her knees, elbows, and belly are drawn in a new way that more closely resembles actual fat girls, as opposed to my typical unrealistic fantasy versions. So here's to experimentation!

See a preliminary sketch: [Thick Spread sketch]

Produced in 2007.

Monica loved stadium food and baseball, even though her team hadn't won in years. She bought season tickets and was at the game, stuffing her face, rain or shine. Growing fatter with each game, Monica found it harder and harder to squeeze into the stadium seats. With each passing meal, she would swell farther past her seat boundaries onto her neighbors' seats, until a fateful binge during one game when her billowing thigh rolled onto another fan and pinned him under her haunch. By the end of that game, Monica had fattened up so much that three seats became destroyed under her girth. The neighboring fans were never found from under her rump by the fire department when they came to lift her to her feet. Then disaster struck: stadium managers demanded that she either buy four season passes to accommodate her hips, or stay home. Monica couldn't afford her fattening food and three more passes! The entire team, though rallied to her support: she was their most loyal fan, after all. They heaved her onto a bench where she would be free to grow unobstructed. Monica's thighs had grown so bloated that she barely put one in front of the other as she made her way to the concession stand. Her huge ass kept her off balance as it swayed in all directions behind her, and as her hips flowed out to either side, she realized that this would be her last trip to get food. If she ate her fill, her butt would be so round and heavy that it wouldn't be worth lugging around. Her breasts and belly projected in front of her, and she saw that she would never be able to reach a table again. So she bought out the concession stand. She piled the greasy chicken, burgers, and subs onto her hips and set her ponderous rump onto the thin bench. Her gut rested on her swollen thighs and her round breasts rose to her chin. And she ate. And ate. And ate.

So Monica is still there at the stadium, eating her way through to season's end, hoping that her pile of food will last at least that long . . .