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Adipose City Stories II

Working Towards the Weekend

By Psion

Set in the Adipose City universe

Taking place after events in ACS I and Beantown Beat...

It was an hour before daybreak when Rebecca Stone received the call, it was Carlo; the Italiana Street Sumo had gotten himself in trouble again and needed someone to patch him up. The wiry Druggist merely sighed and told him to come on in. Putting on some clothes and throwing on her armored lab coat, she started a pot of coffee and checked her equipment. What wasn't already sterile was going through the autoclave where it was being blasted with a combination of thermal and microwave radiation. Satisfied that her instruments were ready and opening the doublewide doors to her practice, the slender blond human inhaled the chemical aroma of prepackaged coffee and wondered just what one of her clients got himself into this time...

Adipose City was a bustling metropolis in the Boston-Washington urban corridor, established largely in what was northern Rhode Island after the oil market reached its peak and began to spiral out of control. In the chaos that followed, a new world order composed of six major fast food corporations and countless minor food processing companies emerged with the governments of the old largely swept aside. Much had changed; the shift from increasingly unobtainable petroleum to methane and other energy sources, the abundance of food that caused the majority of society to become overweight or obese, the Blightweed scandal, the carving up the world by its new corporate masters... But as much as things changed, they more they stayed the same. While far from sworn enemies, the various corporations of the new world were hardly friends with one another. A company's secret recipes, exotic cultivars, and rare ingredients were all things worth stealing. As such there was a market for mercenaries and corporate agents to steal or protect these assets and subsequently a market for people who could provide medical treatment for these cyber-thugs when they got shot up too badly.

Rebecca's face was clinically neutral as Carlo was helped into her practice foyer by a pair of associates and seated. The hyena animan's gradually shrinking midsection bore the signs of someone recently inflated with a dose of Rounder Juice, a chemical concoction that caused the body's fat cells to rapidly expand. Useful for temporarily immobilizing and embarrassing individuals, not even the elastic wonder fabric Expandex was enough for keeping up with growth that rapid, it was hardly a medical emergency. The crude bandages applied to his hands however, that was something potentially worrisome.

"Hey doll, what do you say you and I go grab some breakfast once Dr. Cherry Pop gets here to give my friend a look over?" One of Carlo's coworkers, a sharply dressed raccoon animan with a potbelly, asked in a sly tone that carried a veiled threat of violence.

"Mikey, that IS Cherry Pop you're addressing you two-bit idiot!" The barely-clothed canine musclegut snarled. "I swear, you screw things up between me and this lady you meathead, I'll remember your name when Dr. Provolone comes around asking for volunteers."

Rebecca "Cherry Pop" Stone smiled as the portly ringtail's face turned the color of ash. "Yes, I am Dr. Stone. And in my professional opinion, I recommend sitting down before you finish passing out." She intoned flatly and helped her patient back to his feet. "Alright Carlo, let's what you need done this time."

The examination room was a bland shade of white, as clean and sterile to the eye as it was to germs. Sitting the hyena animan down in a specially modified chair built for the city's overstuffed populace, she unwrapped his bandages, momentarily wincing as she appraised the damage.

"Be honest with me doc." He asked nervously, finding it easy to be scared now that no one was watching.

"Well it's certainly something I can fix though you're not going to be able to give anyone the finger for awhile... if I asked what the hell you did that send a piece of metal clean through the third metacarpal in both hands, will you give me an honest answer?"

Her patient whimpered softly as the pain renewed its assault on his senses. "Was on company business when this bitch hit me with a Mass Driver, sent a rivet clean through."

She looked over the wound thoughtfully then smiled reassuringly. "Oh don't worry, that's why you're an animan right? Augmented yourself with animal DNA to be faster, tougher, and stronger in the name of the Six. Besides, this isn't the first time I had to rebuild someone's hand, I'll give you some Regen-Up then get some tools together to make sure there's no complications. I won't lie, this might sting a little..."

As the sun continued to rise on the city, a trio of Aristo agents descended upon the wrecked remains of the automated flavor factory. Where there was once a maze of humming machinery producing the array of pre-made bastings and sauces in Aristo's extensive Anglo-Franco menu, only scrap metal and wrecked equipment remained. The stench of incendiary compounds hung heavily in the air as the three European agents slowly lumbered onto the premise.

"Alright everyone, you know what you have to do. Anvil will assess the state of the machinery while Tallis appraises the ingredients. I will set up a perimeter to make sure we aren't disturbed now that that everything else is taken care of. Any questions?" The team's heavily armored Paladin, Lady Nelson, ordered from inside her Mech Suit. A suit of power armor made from a semi-elastic polymer, Nelson's armor was a heavy, bullet-resistant shell supported by an array of electronics and hydraulic servos. The suit's occupant sounded thoughtful as she regarded her cohorts behind a polymer great helm.

"Aye, I have one. Why didn't they send us a ruddy bulldozer?" Anvil asked as he glanced at the mess he had to sift through.

"Management thinks the facility can still be salvaged. They also want us to determine if the damage was caused by Italiana or if another party was involved."

"Management thinks a lot of things." The equine replied.

"Let's just do what we're told Anvil." Nelson sighed.

"Oui, zee sooner we get to work zee sooner we can leave." Tallis chimed in, the rabbit animan was all smiles as she replied with a thick French accent. For not the first time, the armored vixen wondered why the Steel Chef deliberately hammed up her inflection when Nelson and Anvil were the only ones there. Without waiting for her teammates to reply, the white-furred lapine sauntered off, black-heeled boots clicking on the hard concrete floor. Broad hips swayed and her big bottom wobbled as she disappeared into the back of the building where the ingredients were stored.

The paladin watched her walk off, eyes narrowed behind her polarized visor before turning to Anvil. The equine likewise watched his coworker vanish, lacy black panties barely visible beneath her French maid dress. His expression was most definitely of a different variety. "That outfit has to be against the company dress code." The Big Tool replied with a blush.

"It probably is but there is value in making the other corporations underestimate us." The techno-knight sighed. "Speaking of our abilities..." She added, turning her armored head in Anvil's direction.

To his credit, the draft horse animan got the hint and promptly turned around to get to work. Nelson smiled as she watched her techie partner walk off to examine some machinery. Though he denied it and he certainly had enough arm strength beneath his flab to do so, the vixen knew he had to be taking something. No male got hips as wide as his naturally, the horse was about as wide and bottom heavy as Tallis was. But the vixen hardly complained, at least he dressed appropriately in those fire-retardant Expandex coveralls and besides, the view wasn't all that bad as he disappeared to assess the damage to the facility...

The red-furred fox's grin broadened as she started to daydream briefly, her fantasies rudely interrupted by the sudden clang of metal falling on concrete. With a professional swiftness, she immediately snapped back to the task at hand. From their housing on the back of her armor, a pair of recon drones took flight and began scanning the interior of the building. "Tallis, Anvil? Would one of you mind telling me what that was?" She asked briskly over her suit's comm.

Neither agent had answered by the time her drones started feeding her images, both of them held up by a small group of Italiana grunts that snuck in to apparently finish the job they started around midnight. Sighing, the black-haired vixen readied her Safari Master sniper rifle and deployed a tesla whip into her free hand. So much for loafing and figuring out how to get Anvil to take her out to dinner without sounding presumptuous...

"Hah, oh this is rich. We come back to finish burning the plant to the ground and all Aristo sends to stop us is a pair of thunder sluts? Mama mia, if only all my days were like this." A rotund wolf in an armored three-piece suit crooned as the Italiana thugs surrounded Nelson's cohorts.

The leader's high spirits immediately soured as soon as he noticed the growing shadow behind him. Turning around, his face turned pale white as he quickly took in the armored brute behind him. Aristo power armor was as iconic as it was durable; the gunmetal gray plastic shined in the morning light as the imposing seven-foot tall technological golem towered over its opposition. The ballistic polymer had been molded and shaped over its vulpine occupant like a suit of ancient plate mail, supporting her abundant breasts like a medieval brassier.

Yet it was the oversized rifle with the compound scope and the electrified whip that occupied his attention, not the bosoms almost as big as her head. Behind her helmet, Nelson smiled as she eyed up her opponents.

"Wonderful morning isn't it? So tell me chaps, who is your mummy?" The stout maiden cackled. Time for a few of her favorite things...

Bazooka Betty did her best to appear attentive as she sat through the briefing. It had been little over a month since that raid on the big PEC compound in Subcity and life quickly returned to the normal routine once she got off vacation. Her first assignment back on the job saw her guarding a new Burger World research facility out in Idaho. Now that the compound was up and running, she was back in Adipose City for her next assignment. Though once she saw who was going to be on the mission roster, she almost wished she stayed in potato country.

Daisy Dukes, DeeDee to his friends, listened to Lt. Ford with rapt attention, a small smile on the vulpine femboy's face as he ignored a glare from the third agent on this assignment. Jennifer Moore was a Burger World Road Hog specialized in tanks and other heavy vehicles, and the grizzly she-bear was as broad and as hugely built as the machines she drove. She also had it in for DeeDee, why was something Betty was not entirely sure on, but ol' Tank Ass Moore would definitely try something once the meeting was over.

And oh what a mission to have the two of them on; Betty, DeeDee, and Jenny were to raid a SALAD research plantation and steal some seed stock to take back to Burger World scientists. Intelligence had it that this facility was working on a line of new ingredient cultivars. Better tasting, healthier, more fertile, the usual traits.... And a rumored resistance to Blightweed, which alone would be worth stealing if it was true.

Still, DeeDee and Moore on a mission to infiltrate an isolated research facility with her.... Good thing the fourth member of their team was supposedly reputable, a freelance Druggist known as Cherry Pop, otherwise Betty would be pulling her hair out long before the mission even started.

It was lunchtime and the local Sushi Hut was relatively deserted. Jun was not surprised by this occurrence, a bit saddened but not surprised. Despite a brief surge in popularity during the pre-Peak era, PanAsia has never been able to find a way to successfully market sushi in America the way it was in Japan. That being said, the little rolls of raw and cooked fish managed to remain popular enough to keep some of the foreign branches financially afloat. Not to mention there were other benefits like the one currently walking through the door.

There were four of them, a small group of friends, arriving like clockwork. As soon as the last one squeezed through the somewhat narrow doors characteristic of the older segments of the city, they took their usual corner table while one sauntered over to the counter and placed an order. So normal and natural one could very easily miss the fat suits they all wore.

Jun smiled as she watched him approach the counter. Always the same one placing the order every time, male, mid to late twenties, unaugmented human of Nordic descent; at first she thought he was the leader of the group but the conversations seemed to suggest otherwise...

The man kept his smile polite as he took in what was visible of Jun the red panda from behind the counter. A little less then five and a half feet tall, brown hair tied up in a bun with a pair of chopsticks keeping it in place, and a nearly spherical figure that saw most of her weight concentrated in her abundant belly. As sweet as a peach and just as round as one, he had to fight to keep his smile as big as it was. Now was not a good time... "One deluxe sample platter please." He ordered warmly, paying upfront.

Jun took his order and handed him back his change before stepping back into the open kitchen and getting to work. Discreetly looking over her shoulder, she checked to make sure none of them were looking at her before gently tapping the receiver in her ear back into place. Squeezed into a custodian closet in the back room, her Big Tool cohort Soy operated a recorder that would send a digital copy of the conversation back to corporate. It would benefit PanAsia greatly if they knew just how strong PEC's Adipose City cell was after that raid about a month ago before anyone else. Her fingers delicately flittering over the preparation table as the human "leader" took a seat back with his cohorts...

"I hate these damn suits." A blond vixen in the corner grumbled softly.

"Quiet! Do you want that blimp in the kitchen to rat us out to security Alexandra?" A scowling coyote hissed at his cohort.

"Sorry Jim... it's just... damn it I thought we were immune to Rounder Juice?" She whispered back.

"Still miffed about the Z-cups that squirrel girl gave you this morning?" The human chuckled softly.

"Not funny Erik, that fat little slut ruined my favorite armored jumpsuit." The vixen snarled softly at him.

"In case you haven't noticed Alex, the whole world has become one big joke since the petro crash. Besides, I thought vixens and huge boobs went together like peanut butter and jelly?"

"Our Taco King run got FUBARed by a trio of random interlopers and you're upset about a suit that can be stitched back together like nothing happened. No wonder we're losing our grip on Adipose City." The group's true leader, an enormous lion that must have been ripped with muscle based on how large his fat suit was, replied curtly.

"Yeah Leon though I got to ask one thing, am I the only one who's wondering why a bushy-tailed rodent dressed in SALAD colors was catching a ride with a pair of known Aristo agents?" Erik inquired softly.

"No you're not but management still wants you to look into it Erik."

"But I transfer to Queensland territory by the end of the week." The blond human countered politely.

"I suggested to management that your transfer be postponed until we rectified our recent problems." The golden feline replied, Jun could almost hear the smugness in his voice.

"Either the heartbeat sensor I hid on top of the soda machine needs to be recalibrated or Erik's blood pressure just exploded." Soy interrupted over the red panda's secure communications line.

The undercover Steel Chef resisted the urge to cringe as she looked up from her preparations to check on the corner table. Erik's face was as expressionless as a stone yet his eyes glistened with an inner fire that said one thing... kill.

"Well then, guess I better get to work if I want to get started on that before the big job tonight... so all three of you better pay in right now." The undercover PEC agent replied, demonstrating a phenomenal control over his temper.

Jim and Alex paid their share of the tab on reflex, Leon merely looked back at the blond human. "You know I'm good for it Erik." He smiled, yet as long as he had been coming here, Jun had never seen him pay the other male back.

Erik was just about to say something but at that exact moment Jun finished her preparations and brought the sushi platter over to their table. The brewing storm cloud abated for the moment as all four disguised Consortium operatives picked up their chop sticks and deftly manipulated and scooped up the round little morsels. The conversation drifted back to the topic of Jun as the group stayed together just a little longer.

"I still can't believe how fast that fatty is." Alexandra began incredulously.

"Yeah, Jun has some very deft fingers." Erik replied approvingly.

"Careful Erik, it almost sounds like you'd enjoy her company over ours." Leon sneered.

"Leo my friend... even that Italania code monkey Troy Dubblewyde would provide better company then you. At least he might pay his share of the tab." The human responded coolly.

The leonine animan had nothing to say to that and the conversation died down after that, the group staying together for as long as it took to finish the platter and clearing up. Ten minutes they left like they weren't even there. Jun massaged her temples in the few minutes before the late lunch rush trickled in as Soy copied and transferred the conversations to PanAsia's regional headquarters. Someone there was currently building a profile on all four of these individuals; Leon the Big Gun, Alexandra the Speed Freak, Jim the Freerunner, and Erik the tech-savvy Hammerhead.

While today's conversation revealed a number of interesting things, one thing in particular worried Jun; what was this "big job" Erik mentioned about? And more importantly, was it something against PanAsia? The red panda was going to have to be on her guard tonight...

Anvil groaned as he carefully navigated his Clydesdale motortrike through the old industrial quarter of Boston, referred to colloquially as "Beantown" by the locals. Once Lady Nelson took care of the last of the Italiana thugs, they were back to work inspecting the facility. After spending the entire day sifting through wreckage and fiddling with damaged machinery, the huge-hipped effeminate stallion conceded that he was only partially correct, half of the facility required the use of a bulldozer, the other half could still be saved given some spit and polish and a full repair crew. The ingredients were another story; whatever wasn't burnt was infused with the taste of smoke. Tallis was still assessing them to see if any of them could still be used or if the whole stock had to be thrown out.

When the three of them were ready to call it a day, Anvil jumped back on his motorcycle and groaned. Fuel tank was almost dry and he considered himself a little too classy to use a personal condenser to replenish the Clydesdale's supply of liquid methane. Sighing, he turned on the R-U-Lost navigation computer installed into the bike and ran a query for the nearest active fueling station.

Following the prompts that appeared on his windshield, the platinum blond Big Tool rode along into the old Irish quarter. When he finally arrived, he couldn't believe it, the automated service station looked abandoned. Cameras appeared disabled, trash was strewn all over the station lot, and someone had plastered the old corporate logo of O'Maddy's, a pub food franchise that Aristo bought out years ago, over the automated vending kiosk that spat out a selection of quickly prepared entrees. Anvil blinked for a second, more confused that the city directory would list this station as still in service then by seeing the burger and clover of O'Maddy's. The group of Irish dissidents were virtually everywhere that Aristo was so that was no surprise. Shrugging and making a note of his grumbling stomach, Anvil refueled his bike and brought up the touch screen for a takeout menu...

The menu was not Aristo's. Whoever messed around with this vending station did more then paintbomb it, the cheeky vandals hacked the menu display as well. It took him a moment, multitasking was never the equine's strong suit, but after skimming through the menu then reading it intently when he couldn't find any of his usual favorites it finally hit him. This was an O'Maddy's menu.

Twirling his employee credit card in his fingers, he briefly considered what he had stumbled upon. Hacking a menu display and spraying graffiti were both fairly common pranks but still, something didn't feel right about all this. Putting the card back in his pocket he pulled out some slip credit. Slip credit was essentially what the pre-crash age would consider a prepaid debit card or paper money, difficult to replace if stolen but equally difficult to trace if someone is shopping for something they're not supposed to. Paying for the fuel in slip, he turned his attention to the menu and placed an order for something that sounded tasty. Within seconds the food processing machinery inside the vending kiosk whirled to life. Anvil bit his lip briefly as he tried to not think about the preservatives this food was loaded with, sometimes ignorance truly was bliss, and waited as the vendor produced a steak burger with a potato bread bun and a deep fried "baked" potato dripping with butter before completing his meal with a huge milkshake that smelled of butterscotch... This was not a meal served at any Aristo "grab and go" place, it was not a meal served at any Aristo restaurant period.

"Well I'll be... someone went through a lot of work here. Let's see if your company really is worth fighting for." He mused and picked up his order. Tearing a huge bite out of the burger, he tried to emulate one of Tallis's tricks as a Steel Chef and let the cooked juices wash over his tongue. After that first bite went down, he had to admit, whoever hacked and modified this thing was definitely good. Going over what would have had to been done in his head as he demolished the rest of his meal, he concluded that this definitely was a team effort. A Big Tool to make the necessary modifications, a Steel Chef or at least someone intimately familiar with O'Maddy's menu, and a Code Wader to make sure the hardware and the software worked in sync and keep everything quiet. Finished with his meal, he licked his lips and sat in contemplation for a moment. Licking the sweet juices off of his fingers he stuck his hand back in his pocket and tried to recall just how much slip credit he had left and how much he could safely spend on food. Smiling to himself, Anvil decided to sample the rest of the menu and placed another order. The suspension on his Clydesdale buckled and groaned as it struggled to deal with the growing weight of its rider, tomorrow was definitely going to tax the limits of his Expandex slacks. "Enjoy my contribution to your war fund while you can." The equine booty boy belched with a smile before continuing on with his drive home. His belly groaned happily, stretched and bloated but content now that it had been fed...

As night fell upon the city, Bazooka Betty sucked in her breath. Her team was currently riding along in a Burger World corporate APC, Jennifer Moore was behind the controls and the others sat in back with the plump tabby commando. Cherry Pop was quietly checking her dart pistols, making sure all the projectiles in each of the revolver-like cylinders had the exact same color-coded plumes. DeeDee watched her intently; his fox tail playfully flicking the air as he looked over the petite blond. Finally she looked up from her task. "Can I help you?" She asked blankly.

The effeminate fox giggled. "Sorry, just wondering why a pretty little thing like yourself is working with us. You'd make one hell of a poster girl for the Consortium."

Betty never saw anyone change from embarrassed flattery to cold rejection so fast. "Never mention me in reference to them ever again." Cherry glared coldly.

"So what do the different colors mean?" Betty interrupted quickly, recognizing when someone had an ax to grind with PEC.

The human switched gears so quickly it was like she never talked to DeeDee. "The reds contain Rounder Juice while the green ones are loaded with appetite stimulants. I also have two blue-plumed speed loaders full of Nite-Time knockout drugs. Should I start with the reds and greens or switch them out for the blues?"

"Start with the Nite-Time, you can always use the Rounder Juice later if SALAD brings out their Street Sumos. And don't mind DeeDee, he's just trying to be friendly."

"Hey DumDum, you're supposed to ask her to dinner if you like her. Or have you become too much of a girl to think of that?" Moore snickered from behind the driver's seat.

"Wow, tank ass sounds like a regular seductress right there." Rebecca replied nonchalantly, both DeeDee and Betty stifled a chuckle at her assertion. "Let me guess, that's your pet name for GI Teddy Butt?" She added with a slight smile.

Jennifer growled threateningly, the blond human remained unfazed. "Oh don't be so sore. How's this sound? After this job you and I go can grab a meat lover's supreme pizza and you can tell me how I can get a butt like that exemplarily ursine posterior you have."

The three animen had to laugh at this, she was kidding right? As the anthros chuckled amongst themselves, Cherry Pop merely shrugged her shoulders and switched out her red and green darts for blue ones. If they thought she was batty then... well they were right. They wouldn't like to know why they were right but it didn't stop them from being right....

Erik quietly went over the group's weapons as Alexandria discreetly weaved the commandeered SALAD delivery van through the late-night traffic. Tonight they were heading to a research plantation in Western Massachusetts, a complex that developed new cultivars of various ingredients for mass consumption. Since the Blightweed scandal that nearly destroyed half of the world's arable land, research facilities for genetically modified crops had been sealed off from the outside world. Underground greenhouses, hermetically sealed geodesic domes, and other solutions were incorporated in order to minimize the accidental spread of new seeds before they were ready. SALAD ran one such building around what was once Worchester, Massachusetts.

Mentally the PEC tech-specialist went over what they were supposed to do tonight. On paper it was simple, smash their way through the airlock and destroy the research fields inside. Management had released one flamethrower and a crate full of incendiary bombs into the team's weapon load out for this purpose. Once they broke in and did significant damage to the facility, they were to escape and wait things out at the nearest PEC safe house. With any luck, SALAD's New England operations would be sent for a loop and the rest of the Six would muscle them out, leaving the Consortium with one less enemy in the area to worry about... It was plans like these that made Erik glad he was the kind of man who made plans of his own for getting out of jams. Let's just see how close Leon's plan came to getting them all killed....

The mission was going well by Bazooka Betty's standards, Jennifer Moore hid their vehicle in the loading dock and their IT overwatch had successfully put the security cameras in a feedback loop. Stone had proven to be surprisingly talented at sneaking around and hiding knocked-out guards. And both Betty and DeeDee were in rare form, not one of them had raised an alarm since they got here. All they had to do was sneak through one last research field then break into the seed vault to steal the samples corporate sent them out for.

The actual interior of the plantation had been interesting to say the least. The loading docks and processing center were fairly typical, once you saw one industrialized interior your saw them all but the fields... Greenish black potatoes that smelled suspiciously like pot roast, stubby bonsai-like trees laden with what appeared to be azure plums, and watermelons the size of small cars... No wonder Burger World desperately wanted to replicate SALAD's research.

As her team flittered through this last field, taking cover behind pumpkins big enough to be used as efficiency housing, things started to go downhill for Betty and the Burger World team. Her feline ears twitched as BB picked up the sound of a second group of people carefully trying to sneak through the fields undetected. Motioning for her team to get out of sight, the trio hid in ambush positions outside of the entrance to the seed vault. Seconds later, two large ursinoid shapes lumbered into view. Stepping into the light of the service entrance outside of the seed vault, the pair revealed themselves to be a duo of she-bear animen dressed in the olive green coveralls of Motherland Provisions. A roughly spherical brown bear cradled an oversized minigun threateningly as her pear-shaped polar bear cohort pulled out an Omni-Driver and began fiddling with the inner workings of the electronic lock. Betty tightened her grip on her gun, waiting for the polar bear to finish with the lock before saying anything.

"So once again Motherland Provisions is trying to become the seventh major megacorp?" Betty called out from her hiding place between the oversized vegetables.

Molotov, the brown she-bear, turned around and slowly warmed up her minigun; the barrels began to whine ominously as she carefully searched the crops for her heckler. "I know you're out there Bazooka Betty, might I add that this little game of hide and seek is very unbecoming of the shining star of Burger World bravado." The waddling ursine minigunner jibed softly.

The feline commando had just opened her mouth to say something when a loud explosion echoed from the perimeter wall of the geodesic dome. Warning klaxons wailed, wordlessly lamenting that containment had been breached. Immediately both American and Russian Street Sumos were talking to their respective Road Hogs.

"Damn it Jenny, what did you do?" Betty barked.

"Nothing, I'm still in the loading dock on the east side. What's going on?"

"You didn't decide to trade shots with the Road Hog from Motherland Provisions and accidentally puncture the dome?"

"The commies are here? Damn no wonder things are going ass up."

Betty rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Molotov. She had just started to ask what she already suspected when a familiar battle cry could be heard over the growing din.

"Sweat baby sweat! Sweat for the Consortium!" Several beings yelled in a perfect chorus.

Both females looked at one another, the disbelief in each other's eyes as readable as a phone directory. Immediately the hyper-hourglass gunner switched open a channel to her team, allowing them to hear what she was about to ask the giant she-bear. "So Molotov, would you be willing to accept a temporary ceasefire between our teams? Finish our missions and get out of here?"

"Agreed, let's finish this before Dr. Stoutheart decides she wants to see how much fat we'd all need to be to fill a swimming pool." Molotov nodded in agreement before turning her head to look behind her. "Ingenery! Move over and make room for the big arse Yankees coming in."

Coming out of hiding, Bazooka Betty waved her team in after the portly polar bear. Molotov stepped aside to let DeeDee and Cherry pass, briefly raising an eyebrow at the blond woman but declined to say anything.

Inside, the two Big Tools deftly manipulated the seed vault's automated systems. Select amounts of seeds and seedlings were carefully picked and loaded into sealed containers before being released from their sterile environment. The fox and the polar bear quickly divided the canisters between themselves before drawing their weapons. "We're ready to go."

"Alright. Jenny, get out of the loading dock and drive around to the hole the meatheads blasted through the wall. We'll meet you there. Just... don't blow up the Motherland APC when you get there okay?" Betty nodded to the techies as she ordered the ursine Road Hog to move. Molotov likewise barked a few commands in Russian, obviously the two females were thinking the same thing.

Jennifer grumbled but complied, the feline was grateful. The loading docks were halfway across the plant; the breach in the sealed dome was about fifty yards away. Granted, it meant fighting through PhysEd but if SALAD's own agents weren't already here they'd be shortly. The longer Betty and her friends took, the more likely they were to get caught in a pincer. They needed to leave right now...

A few minutes earlier...

Erik was silent as he quickly handed out the weapons. Leon had brought a few extra friends with them, muscular animen from whatever gym he liked to hang out at during his off-hours. The human tried to remember their names but in the end it was pointless, they were all just one big gaggle of brainless shovelheads. In one corner was a towering equine maiden, her soft tan hide accented by long blond hair and stern blue eyes. At the other end was a female leopard with black locks, as much a looming mountain of sculpted muscle as her cohort. Between them was a ripped wolf animan of medium height with a Queensland accent, his pale gray fur offset by a short crop of hair the shade of obsidian. The blond male found nothing likeable about any of them.

"Oi, where's our lipoguns smooth skin?" The wolf asked rudely.

The Hammerhead glared right back, unafraid of his cohort. "It was either the lipoguns or the flame weapons. Since this is a property damage assignment, guess which one takes priority? Besides, real men disfigure their opponents with bullets." He answered flatly while running his flamethrower through one last check. As the team's technician, it was his duty to ensure the maximum amount of damage was achieved. That meant the flamer and incendiary bombs were ultimately his responsibility.

Wolfman was definitely not happy, growling as he silently chambered a round into his assault rifle. Mega-Mare and Spots were harder to read but the unaugmented techie imagined they weren't much happier. Making fatties melt into anorexic bone bags drowning in their own liquefied fat was a popular pastime in PhysEd. Yet another thing that made Erik wonder if he really did make the right choice signing up with this corporation.

His unease only worsened when he discovered exactly how Leon planned to insert the team into the facility. Sticking his overmuscled body out the front passenger window while shouldering a massive rocket launcher, the lion fired a short salvo at the dome keeping the greenhouse separate from the outside world. The fiery exhaust of his missiles turned into small pinpricks of light before exploding against the wall of reinforced ballistic glass in a violent yellow plume. Warning sirens went off almost immediately as the delivery van rocketed through the new opening. Once they were through, there was no more time for the human to worry, there wasn't even any time left to think. The Consortium agents poured out of the back of their stolen vehicle with practiced precision, sweeping the immediate area as Tim and Alex readied themselves for sapper duty. Something was wrong; plant security should have been right on top of them.

Communications suddenly went alive with chatter; Leon's three idiot friends had found some A&AF's, Armed and Angry Fatties, dressed in urban camo and olive green coveralls. Apparently both Burger World and Motherland Provisions were trying to raid the facility at the same time, something the leonine squad leader wasted no time crowing about.

"Look how the little fatties run now that their hands have been caught in the cookie jar. They can't even wait until the other has been caught before they try to steal a snack for themselves." The lion chortled as he traded his launcher for a light machinegun.

Erik mentally processed this development as he started torching a field of grain. If PhysEd arrived in the middle of some corporate espionage, it would explain why resistance was so light so far. Yet if he were one of the blubber balls in charge of the op, he wouldn't engage anyone during the bug out process unless... The human quickly looked behind him and caught the glint of metal glistening in the pale light of the full moon. Any chance of a warning died in his throat as one of the Road Hogs targeted and destroyed their delivery van in a shower of scrap metal and anti-vehicle explosives. Muscleheads dived for cover as debris rained down and embedded themselves harmlessly into the ground; the parade of paramilitary fatfurs peppered them with weapons fire as they tried to stampede past. Bringing up Burger World's rear was... no it couldn't be her.

Rebecca Stone kept her pistol in a death grip as she loaded the darts full of Rounder Juice into the gun. The Nite-Times had been used up for what felt like a long time now but Consortium grunts always called for something special anyway. Minutes stretched into infinity as she carefully lined up her shots; she had to concentrate if she wanted to nail her enemies without taking a bullet to the head.

First down was that damn black-haired wolf with the stupid grin and the lemon-yellow war paint. Idiot wasn't wearing his helmet and his neck guard wasn't adjusted correctly so the projectile managed to sneak its way through and jab him in the Adam's apple. Within seconds the Rounder Juice began working through his system. PEC Agents didn't have much fat to work with but all living beings need a certain amount of blubber to function, not even the meat dicks could get rid of that much lard and keep the body from burning off muscle next. And once the drugs found enough to get started, the resulting chain reaction was like an avalanche. His polymer chestplate began to creak ominously as it struggled to contain the ballooning belly within, cracking and splitting like an egg as the interior pressure became too great. His clothes shredded and nude from the waist up, the lupine Big Gun fell backwards as he struggled to compensate for a mammoth gut almost as big as he was.

Wolf-boy's two cohorts were on her before he even started transforming. Two statuesque females, a brown horse and spotted leopard, towering over all the other combatants by at least a solid foot, bodies ripped but not freakishly so, muscles well-defined but not lacking in mass, and faces that made no effort to hide the contempt they felt for her. Skinny girl hanging out with people roughly two to three hundred pounds heavier and wider then her, not a lot of other things Stone could be. And their weapons voiced their infantile outrage, lathering her cover with a hail of bullets. Giant pumpkins and watermelons were demolished as they held up to fully automatic fire as well a dining room set made of particleboard. The slender Druggist ducked into a crouch run and bolted for safety. She would have loved to jab them with some Rounder Juice and give them a boob job to remember but they were covered too well, there weren't any openings in their heavy armor like their idiot friend.

Fortunately Betty and the Russian both noticed she was lagging behind and turned to provide some cover fire. A volley of high caliber bullets tore into PEC armor and bowled her opponents over. Cherry Pop bit back the urge to see if she could follow up with a Rounder Juice finisher and kept running, just had to get to the breach with the others, just had to... avoid the raging lion animan that tackled her like a linebacker trying to score the winning touchdown.

The leonine Big Gun impacted into her like an armored missile, seemingly immune to the torrent of weapons fire pouring on him as he picked the lithe human up like a toy. "Greetings Rebecca Stone, it's been a while." A familiar voice purred from behind the opaque black visor. Stone felt the fight in her extinguish like a candle in a monsoon as a flood of memories rushed through her mind. Of all the PhysEd thugs she had to run into... Out of desperation she squirmed in his grip, struggling to break free as the idiot remained oblivious to... why was Bazooka Betty switching magazines?

Once the tabby cat resumed firing, it became quite appearing why she switched, the new magazine contained armor piercing bullets. The muscular lion collapsed in pain as rounds started burrowing through his trauma plates and found new homes in his back. The human Druggist didn't need any more prompting, once he let go of her she ran. Adrenaline thinned her blood as she bolted back to Moore's APC, DeeDee grabbing her by the arm and helping her inside. As the armored vehicle closed up and sped off into the night, Stone felt her defenses crumble. Curling up in her seat, she placed her face in her hands and began to cry softly. Why can't they just leave her alone?

Betty silently watched the freelancer, grateful Jennifer seemed focused on driving them all home, and searched for the right thing to say without sounding like a sympathy card. The freak that grabbed her was big, mean, and called her by name. The tabby didn't know what kind of history Stone had with them but apparently it was bad. So when DeeDee slide over to give the girl a hug, the plush commando merely nodded her head approvingly and hoped that SALAD was having the time of their lives...

In Erik's professional opinion, SALAD security was royally pissed. The instant he spotted Tifa Stoutheart, the infamous SALAD mad scientist, flanked by three of the biggest Street Sumos he ever saw, he knew it was time to stop thinking of leaving and actually make with the process of running away screaming like a scared little Catholic school girl. Looking around, his heart continued to sink further. During the battle with the joint Burger World-Motherland Provisions team, his cohorts had gotten divided and left themselves open for SALAD to wedge right in and keep the sappers away from the main battle group.

"Leon we need to bug out! They've going to swarm us." Tim shouted over the comm.

"Stop whining Erik! We are PhysEd, we are BUILT for crushing these fatass wannabe cyberpunks!" Leon shot back.

While priding himself on keeping it much smaller then his counterparts over on the fat side of things, Erik knew when to trust his gut and right now his gut was telling him the party was over. Using the last of his flamethrower fuel, he quickly fanned a thin stream across the lettuce field between him and a fast approaching Street Sumo. Using the wall of fire separating the two of them as barrier, he stepped back and tried to raise Jim and Alex on the comm.; nothing but static and... the Legend of Zelda theme? Out of options he made an executive decision, it was time to go.

Rushing to the loading docks and storage facility on the far side of the plant, keeping the fire between him and the massive long-eared rabbit buck hot on his heels, he rushed up to the door and tossed the last of his fire bombs behind him. The resulting explosion blocked off the way behind him and forced the lapine heavyweight to find another route or shoot at him through the flames. His pursuer decided on the former, leaving the Hammerhead free to place his hand on the door to the loading area... and listen to the soul-crushing click of a Code Wader locking him out remotely. Miles away, safe in her Adipose City apartment, Zea the SALAD corporate hacker giggled as Erik looked up at the nearest security camera and struck a pose that was as creative as it was ungentlemanly.

Back in the outskirts of Worchester, the frantic techie got a hold of himself and pulled out his Omni-Driver. Prying off the panel, he put his driver away and started teasing the wires; seconds later the door gave a reassuring click and swung open. Smiling, he looked at the camera one last time.

"Suck on it lawn muncher." He smiled and disappeared into the maze of scaffolding and shipping crates.

As if the mysterious Code Wader was telling him what they thought of him, the lights dimmed ominously low as the fleeing techie disappeared into the loading area. Hoisting his flamethrower onto his back and drawing his pistol, the blond man sucked in his breath and slowly made his way into the room. The ceiling lamps were barely bright enough to cast small pools of light on the aisle floor, leaving the stacks of crates and scaffolding shrouded in darkness. Every so often he would sweep a particularly threatening patch of shadow with the illuminator on his gun, his heart skipping a beat whenever he encountered an empty patch. Some of the blank spaces were big enough to hide a tank, forget the things that Stoutheart might actually throw at him. Somewhere overhead, the metal scaffolding rang as something very heavy hit it hard, something that seemed to be following him. Sucking in his breath, he started to put in a little more spring in his step as his feet carried him out of storage and into the actual loading docks themselves. There, at the dock in the far corner, another van had been left abandoned. Breaking out into a run, he started to laugh softly. Almost free, almost free, he just had to get to the other end of the loading bay and... narrowly avoid the SALAD Grabboid who landed in front of him.

Descending from her perch overhead with the grace of an anime ninja, the hourglass squirrel animan stared back at him from behind the electronic gaze of a pair of spectrum goggles. For a split second Erik stared dumbly as he tried to make out her features... it was her, Rigger the squirrel he was ordered to investigate. And unsurprisingly, given what he knew of her prior history with PhysEd, she did not look particularly pleased to see him.

"Well, well, well, look what I have here. A meathead who thinks he's home free." The bushy-tailed rodent squeaked eagerly.

While to some extent witty banter was encouraged amongst the Consortium, Erik wasn't really in the mood for a lengthy conversation. Tightening his grip on his pistol, he raised his arm and squeezed the trigger. Physically drained from hauling forty pounds of gear in a mad half-mile sprint, his first shot went wild and Rigger dived back into the shadows. Picking up his feet again, the Hammerhead continued running towards the empty truck. Every so often he'd spot the electronic light of his opponent's goggles and fire off another round. Burning through his last physical reserves and shooting on the run, his aim remained poor. But the effort still had the desired effect, even a bad shot could kill and the infrequent barrage of bullets kept her in cover and off his back.

Sliding the last few feet into the empty rear of the small delivery van, he turned and pointed his gun at... nothing. Rigger had vanished as if she was never even there. Throwing off his gear and shutting the back of the van, the tired man jumped into the front seat and quickly checked for the keys... no keys. Ripping open the control panel beneath the steering rod, he attempted to hotwire the van. As the methane-fueled engine roared to life, his spirits rose. Gripping the wheel and punching the accelerator, Erik sped out of the facility parking lot and roared past the security checkpoint. Once again adrenalin began to pour into his system as he focused on his next goal. The mission was a disaster but if he could just make it the northern edge of Adipose City... if he could make it to the city limits there were half a dozen safe houses that immediately sprang to mind. He just had to fight fatigue, anxiety, and the possibility that there was a tracking device installed somewhere on this vehicle. Tightening his grip on the wheel, he drove on... oblivious to the fact that Rigger had quietly snuck in the back of the van while he was busy hotwiring it. Keeping her breathing steady and laying prone on the hard plastic floor, she watched as her quarry focused on the road in front of him. Tailing a PEC Agent who think he gave her the slip, just another night at the office...

Tifa Stoutheart smiled as her captives began to wake up. The fires had been put out and the breach had been repaired. None of the plants had been ready for pollination so the uncontrolled spread of seed was minimized. The zone of dispersal was calculated and security was dispatched to the indicated area to spray the land down. For safety purposes, SALAD experimental plants were encoded with a susceptibility to an otherwise impotent herbicide. Damage control was still assessing the plantation fields and the value of the missing seed stock but that was not her concern. Of the seven-man PEC squad, two had escaped without a trace and a third was presently being tailed by one of SALAD's best infiltrators. The remaining four had just been released from interrogation into her tender care.

The plump-bellied equine animan's smile only broadened as the muscular lion struggled with his restraints and quickly looked around, fear spreading on his face as he caught a glimpse of the prodigal Dr. Stoutheart and realized where he was. His captor tilted her head back and laughed, her pronounced stomach gently wobbling in time with her laughter. "Oh good you're awake and the look on your face tells me I don't need to be particularly formal with introductions." She smirked and opened a manila folder.

"Let's see. According to this file our IT department managed to quietly swipe from PanAsia, you are called Leon, surname unknown, and you have been a squad leader in PEC's security department for at least a decade. According to PanAsia's findings you're also a textbook self-serving narcissist with an eye for talent and labor delegation, particularly when it comes to stifling the advancement of those under you so they can continue to make you look good. Your core team seems to suffer from poor morale if how quickly agents Alexandra, Jim, and Erik retreated are any indication. Are you satisfied with the picture PanAsia painted of you or should I go on?" Tifa chuckled as she read.

Leon growled and tried to spit out the Vaccumask that was forced over his mouth. His jailer chastised him with a backhanded slap. "Now, now, I will have none of that. You and your three friends are going to get me SO MUCH useful data." She chortled with a porcine chuckle. "And ironically, I have you to thank for much of it. Remember that Taco King raid yesterday, the one that we intercepted? I'm not sure how but SALAD's agents managed to recover a few files from my rival, Dr. Morin Crammitin... the childhood that poor woman must have had. Anyway, point being we did so let's get down to business before I start rambling like a comicbook supervillain." Stoutheart smiled and picked up a tablet computer, during the one-sided exchange a pair of orderlies appeared by her side.

"Let's see, PEC Agents Leon and Jonathan are prepped for testing of the Morin serum, formula 1. Run an initial test of their stomach and digestive capacity under normal circumstances then inject them with whatever that Taco King mad scientist cooked up." She gestured to the PEC squad leader and the wolf that had been hit with Round Juice during the battle. Immediately the orderlies wheeled the designated gurneys out of the room. Once they were gone, the SALAD scientist turned her attention to the two female Big Guns.

"Let's see now... Deborah and Clarissa was it? Hmmm, what to do with you."

"Well for starters you fat cunt, you could let us go and we promise we won't bench press you on our way out." Deborah the mare replied, Tifa briefly wondered if it wouldn't have been a good idea to gag them as well.

Stoutheart decided to merely pretend she didn't hear them say anything. "Hmmm, fortunately for you we've only been able to synthesize a small amount of Morin's drug, barely enough to inject into the men. Unfortunately for you there is a shortage of test subjects for our experimental gainer drugs, compounds that increase the growth of particular fat deposits over others. They all have long, multi-syllable names that I won't bore you with. I'll just simplify it to one basic question that you meatheads can hopefully understand... tits or ass?"

Clarissa opened her mouth, the look in her eyes made it clear she wanted to plead with her captor or at least select the treatment she thought would be less humiliating. But Deborah cut her off. "We aren't going to answer that you overstuffed bitch, because right now an extraction team is going to burst in through the doors behind you."

"Ah yes, the famous PEC extraction team. Able to lay siege to any position, overcome any obstacle, and defeat any foe to recover a fallen comrade. A wonderful fairytale but still a fable all the same." She replied clinically and giggled as a sudden flash of inspiration took over. Bringing up interdepartmental communications, she called security and placed them on speaker.

"Security here! Is there something I can do for you Dr. Stoutheart?"

"Actually yes. Tell me, has a PEC extraction team been spotted on the company grounds?"

"No ma'am." The security captain replied nervously.

"Very good. But if there was, what would be the odds that they could successfully break through and liberate our four prisoners?"

"None ma'am. We locked down everything so tight after the stunt they just pulled they wouldn't even get through the front door without getting buried in a hail of lead." He answered, starting to understand what she was asking.

"Thank you security for once again helping me become a destroyer of dreams and crusher of hopes to all things PEC. Carry on." Tifa cackled manically.

"Anytime ma'am, will do." The guard laughed before signing off.

Turning back to her captives, she smiled her largest smile since Leon woke up. "As you were saying?"

"FUCK YOU!" Deborah shouted, catching Tifa with a small spray of spittle... why do PEC goons always spit when they yelled?

Pulling a handkerchief out of her lab coat pocket, the SALAD scientist wiped her face clean. "Very well then, drugs for building thunder thighs and other bottom-heavy pear shaped figures are in far greater demand then breast expansion compounds anyway. As our marketing department would say, enjoy your 'dem hips' and 'dat badonkadonk ass.'" She replied, smiling and waving as two more orderlies appeared to wheel the other gurneys out of the receiving room. Almost immediately Clarissa began to make one last plea.

"Please! Please transfer me to the other clinical trial." She begged. "Just think; if breast expansion becomes the hot new trend, you'd be ahead of the game. Your bosses will praise you for your genius."

"Clever, appealing to my vanity. But unfortunately the choice was moot, the BE trials already had more subjects then they know what to do with. Don't worry though, I'm sure you'll look positively divine either way." Tifa replied as she smiled and waved, the feline wailing as she was carted away. The stout mare made sure to make a note of that one and put her test subject status on hold... management will want to know that the leopardess tried to negotiate with her. What that meant, if anything, would only be decided in the coming days. Until then, these experiments weren't going to perform themselves....

To Be Continued...