FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The crumpled hood of the Dodge Challenger trickled near freezing water, casting rippling reflections of mercury vapor light on the fender of the totaled Thunderbird resting on top of it, a gentle flicker of lightning lit the heavy downpour and let down a gentle rumble of thunder over the tragic scene. A doberman strolled up to the wreckage and check his teeth in a cracked window.

"Shame, twenty years ago you were probably someones baby..." he patted the fender of the Dodge and strolled on to the next heap. Dominic had just started his job in the scrap yard a few months before, so he drew the short end of the stick when it came to working thanksgiving. There wasn't a soul in sight on the dimly lit back alleyways surrounding the junkyard, giving the whole scene a very post apocalyptic feel. Dom picked up a hunk of exhaust pipe and took a few pot shots at imaginary zombies clawing at the rusting chain fence. Tossing his improvised rifle into an oil drum he wiped the cold grime from his hands and straightened his coat when a loud buzzer caught his attention. The shivering siamese hunched over around the hot bag of food, struggling to keep warm in the icy winter storm as the junkyards lone resident jogged up to the gate.

"T-t-t-that'll be forty two f-f-f-fifty man..." Reaching into his big coat, the doberman produced two twenties and a ten and waved off the change before sprinting back to his small guard shack with his bulging sack of chinese food. he pulled the winter coat and hung it so it deflected the draft in the shacks door, sitting so he got the full glow of both the propane heater and the tv he pulled out the chopsticks and the first container of Dim-Sum, resting it on a formidable beergut before chowing down. Judging by the prodigious paunch porking out over his belt, this wasn't the first bag of food he demolished on his own. In the beginning Dominic was a slender, fearsome doberman, happily punching the antique clock for the first time. He settled into his job with ease, happily strolling around and looking at cars he could only dream of owning. But one can only look at the same beautiful tragedy so many times before it becomes monotonous, so soon he took to watching TV, but late night television has a tendency to be particularly terrible. Only two weeks in Dom received his first paycheck, and that's when he realise something, he could buy food. So it began, all night burger joints, pizzas (so long as he picked it up before work), chinese food on the holidays, and anyone who would deliver till 11:00pm, all this gloriously greasy food chased with the grocery bags filled with chips, cookies, candy, and sodas he brought with him. He realised it was inevitable, tried to stop it even, but the food was just too good to resist. He had become the quintessential dog who was eating too much, stuffing cheeseburgers and doughnuts into his maw even as he told himself it was far too much. One morning he just woke up, walked into his bathroom, and saw a chubby dog staring back at him. It was a long four hours before work, most of them spent hefting his bulge of a tummy in disbelief. He pulled on his wifebeater and grease stained jeans before resuming his post for the night. He swore to never eat junk food again for all of an hour, then ordered three double cheeseburger meals with fries and milkshakes. The whole time he ate, he tried to see if his ass was getting fat (and it was, if only a little) and rubbed at the forming pot belly stretching his shirt. Now a much plumper Doberman sat with his feet up in front of the TV as he poured a bag of crumbled cheese puffs into a container of Low Mein noodles and doused the whole thing in soy sauce. he stopped briefly to poke and squeeze at his gut, recently he was feeling feelings that were confusing him, this morning his heart was racing as he struggled to button his now too tight pants. He was now rubbing at his full belly, eating more regardless of the growing pressure within, and the weight he would be putting on. The stuffed canine tossed the empty container with the others in the trash, attempting to rub the bellyache away as he pulled a bag of mini chocolate donettes out from under the desk. He reached around and let his belt out, undoing his fly and allowing his gut to settle on his grande size thighs before just pushing his maw into the donut filled feedbag. The loud buzzer behind the doberman startled him, sending the remainder of the donuts to the floor. Growling, Dominic stomped to the door, where a black cat from the day shift was waiting for him.

"Hey man..." The cat stopped and for several awkward moments he stared at the protruding roll of flab bulging from beneath Dominic's wife beater.

"What do you want!?" The irate junkyard dog half snapped at the feline, pulling his shirt down and stepping out into the cold and snow.The cat held out a bag with a couple Styrofoam containers weighing it down.

"Yeah... Whatever..." He took the bag and left the cat cold, staring at him through the door until he left. After he was sure he was alone, he tore the bag open with all the enthusiasm of a pup on Christmas morning. The first container was spaghetti with meatballs, smothered in meat sauce and sprinkled with parmesan cheese. The second container held a hot turkey sandwich and a hot roast beef sandwich, and the three smaller containers held mashed potatoes, onion rings, and garlic toast respectively. There was a note as well. "Dear Dominic, don't work too hard, and happy holidays. Mrs. Antonelli Dominic smiled, he may not have liked his boss, but the bastards mother was really kind to him, bringing him food on occasions, that and the fact that she despised her son as much as he.