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Hadn't written inflation in a while so I decided to fix that! In addition to that I was in the mood for blimpy borbs, and with me they tend to be bursting so I decided to blow up my owl bard Lane. Includes guzzling cider, getting massive, and a borbsplosion. But don't worry, the owl will be okay...eventually :3c
The allure of free cider leads to Lane becoming a volatile drunken borb bomb...
The Booze Bomb Bard
By: Indi
Lane tipped the mug up high, letting the cider within cascade into his open beak. The large owl bard chugged until the mug ran dry, shaking it to free the final few drops before putting it back down. He leaned back against the bar with his elbows on the counter, and let out an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction, grinning wide. “Nothing betterrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp than free booze!” he hooted. His round, bloated belly sloshed about, filled with a few gallons of liquor and jutting out of his tunic.
“Personally I prefer gold, but I guess you can’t exactly guzzle it.”
Lane looked over his shoulder at the fat gray lion behind the bar. “Oh stop being sourrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp, so sour, August! We saved the day, and got a whole tavern as a reward. You should be celebrating—braaaaaaaaaaap!”
The lion rolled his eyes. “The reward was supposed to be actual money, not an old tavern. We don’t even live in this city—what good is this place to us?”
“It keeps the thirst at bay, for one.” Lane gave his gut a slap with a talon, prompting another belch. “We could always just sell it.”
“That’ll take time. And it’ll be awhile before people stop associating this place with the previous owner and all the disappearances,” August said.
“Why would they?” Lane asked. “We defeated them, and put an end to their nefarious scheme of blimping up drunk patrons and selling them at the docks to captains in desperate need of extra crew. If anything they should be flocking to this place for drinks now that they know it’s safe.” He looked down at his empty mug. “Speaking of which; mind filling me up?”
“Sure,” August said, frowning. A gray bangle on the lion’s wrist glowed blue, and a pair of ghostly paws manifested in the air. One grabbed Lane’s mug and brought it to a keg on the wall, while the other waited to open the tap. Normally the mage didn’t mind using his powers for minor tasks, but he wasn’t quite in the mood that night.
“Really August, you need to learn to think positively,” Lane said, nudging his belly with his talons as he waited for his drink. “All that heft you gained, for example.”
August winced at the mention, but his reaction wasn’t noticed. Just two days ago he’d been lean, a third of his current weight. But while they were fighting the unicorn who’d previously owned the tavern, he’d been ambushed by a spell that filled him to the brim with cider. The rest of the fight was a blur, but August had woken up the next day with a terrible hangover...and a blubbery gut.
“If you hadn’t gotten hit by that spell, then I wouldn’t have been able to come from behind and force him to guzzle his own brew to take him out. I’d say that’s a small price to pay for victory!” Lane said.
“Well I just can’t help but think things would’ve been even better if you’d bothered pumping the booze out of me before I ballooned in size permanently,” August grumbled as he began pouring the cider.
“The weight’ll be good for ya. Take it from someone who’s always had a jiggle to their step—bigger’s better.” Lane laughed, and his middle wobbled with him. The cider shook and fizzed within his stomach, causing his belly to swell and a long, loud belch to echo from his beak.
I wonder if you’d still feel the same way if you were the one blimped up with booze, August thought to himself. With how much the owl was guzzling, he was on his way there already. And with some encouragement…
August’s frown turned into a grin, and he stopped filling the mug. “I’ll take that to heart, Lane. In fact, that gives me an idea.” His bangle glowed again, and four more paws appeared in the air. He directed them to the keg he’d been pouring cider from, and had them lift the entire thing off its shelf and through the air, bringing it around to Lane. The owl looked at the floating keg with curiosity.
“Why bother with a mug, when you can just have the whole keg at once?” August asked, with feigned innocence.
Lane’s eyes lit up. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!” He opened his beak in anticipation.
August angled the keg above his friend, then opened the tap. Cider flowed free, pouring right into Lane’s beak. Steadily the owl’s belly began to balloon outward, rounding more and more with every gulp. It gently wobbled, the sloshes and bubbling drowned out by the gulping. Lane felt his belly growing heavy with booze, but didn’t care. He wasn’t about to miss out on a chance to chug a whole keg in one go.
After a couple minutes the keg was empty, and August had his ghostly paws place it on the floor.
Lane groaned and giggled. “Soworrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp good! No wonder—braaaaaaaaaaaaap—people kept coming here despite the—buhurrrrrrrrp—despite the disappearances.” The belching had jostled his gut, and he watched it expand a bit more. His talons wandered down and began to rub and squeeze at his middle, feeling the weight of the cider within. He’d ed being merely tipsy, and wasn’t shy about expressing his joy of being bloated. In the past he’d guzzled water just to feel bigger, but liquor was proving far funner.
Two of the ghostly paws suddenly drifted into view. Lane followed them as they hovered and flipped, then let out a surprised hoot as they both grabbed his gut and gave it a shake.
“Woahurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp! Lane belched and swelled, blushing as the paws teased him.
“You’re almost more keg than bird,” August said, casually directing the paws to wobble and pat his friend’s middle. “Though I’m sure you don’t mind.”
The extra attention was unexpected, but undeniably delightful. “Few can handle their liquorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp as well as birds can!” Lane boasted.
“That true?” August asked.
“Yep! Braaaaaaaaaaaaaap! I’m not even at capacity yet.”
“Exactly what I was hoping to hear.”
Lane had been so distracted by the ghostly paws attending his belly that he hadn’t noticed the four others carrying a brand new keg to him. Despite his gloating, he felt a hint of hesitation in accepting a second full keg. Standing was already tough for the bloated bird. But then he thought of how wonderful it’d feel to be full of the cider within, and drunken desires overrode common sense. He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and opened his beak.
This time August had a paw rip the tap right off the keg, allowing the cider to gush out in a torrent. As it began to fill up Lane, he created four more paws, and used them to swiftly retrieve another keg. Its tap was ripped off as well, the two kegs creating a waterfall of liquor, all of which was emptying into the oblivious owl.
Lane’s belly was swelling past his knees, jiggling from the force of the cider filling it. The sloshing, splashing, and fizzing were starting to get louder. None of it ed in Lane’s mind, the owl lost in his own blissful world of overindulgence, still convinced he was only guzzling one more keg and not two. As he braced himself against the bar, the increasing weight of his belly didn’t even seem so bad.
More paws were manifested. Some were sent for a third keg, while the rest converged on Lane’s belly. They held it up to relieve the weight, and relentlessly massaged it, helping to distract the owl more. August wanted him to remain compliant for as long as possible.
A fourth keg arrived once the first was empty. Lane was rapidly blimping up, his immense belly hovering less than a foot off the floor, so heavy it took a half-dozen ghostly paws to hold it up. They made the owl feel only half as full, though even in his drunken state he was beginning to wonder why it was taking longer to drain the latest keg. Perhaps it’d been a bit bigger?
The waterfall of cider gradually dwindled as August ceased adding more kegs, until at last it dried up completely. Lane’s eyes sluggishly opened, and he let out a hiccup. At that moment, August called back the ghostly paws that’d been holding the owl up.
The true weight of his belly hit Lane all at once, and he immediately toppled over, arms flailing. He landed on his gut almost instantly, as it’d barely been off the floor. The short fall shook up the cider within him, causing it to fizz like crazy and blimp the owl up further. Momentum rolled Lane atop his sloshy, ballooning belly, beaching him atop it as he came to a stop. His cheeks puffed so big he swore he heard them creak, and his beak was forced open to unleash a tremendous Uarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp!!
The whole tavern rattled. Chairs and tables directly in front of Lane were either shoved back or knocked right over from the force of the blast. A window cracked. Dogs barked in the distance. August felt his belly jiggle and blushed.
Lane was left groaning from the powerful burp, and the fact he felt like he’d just guzzled a small pond of cider. “That was—urrrp—way morrrrrrrrrrp, way more than just—braaaaap—one keg,” the drunk owl managed.
“I was confident you could handle a few more, and you certainly did,” August said. The lion waddled around the other side of the bar so he could get a better look at his massive friend. Lane was still swelling slightly thanks to the bubbling cider, his frequent belches not nearly enough to fend off the bloating. He pressed an actual paw against Lane’s feathery side, and felt it wobble at his touch. It was a little taut, but still had some give. Which meant the owl wasn’t big enough yet. “Ready for round two?”
“R-Round two?” the owl said in surprise.
“There’s still so much liquor you haven’t tried yet, after all~” August had his swarm of ghostly paws press gently down upon the owl’s middle from all sides, forcing out a belch and a moan. “Bigger is better right?”
Lane nodded, his eyes wandering.
“Perfect.” August grinned wide. Keg after keg was lifted from behind the counter and carried over. Ghostly paws grabbed Lane by the cheeks and titled his head upward, gently opening his beak so he could guzzle faster. In his drunken stupor he let the paws do whatever they wanted, oblivious to the fact they were essentially forcing him to chug the cider.
Two more kegs poured into the owl, and the first hints of pressure reached his mind. It wasn’t bad, but it couldn’t be completely ignored, either. He’d never gotten so huge before, so he just shrugged it off as normal.
Low creaks echoed from Lane’s body as he swelled in every direction, rising higher. The sound brought a smile to August’s face. His need for revenge was escalating swiftly, and just filling the owl with booze wasn’t going to satisfy him anymore. He was going to teach Lane a lesson he’d never forget.
August ordered a group of ghostly paws to wobble the owl and shake up the cider he’d chugged, hastening his bloating. Lane found himself unable to do much else aside from belch in between kegs, the pressure steadily growing. His hide was getting taut, and each loud creak was accompanied by a tingling sensation somewhere. The once-pleasurable prods of the ghost paws now made him wince slightly as they created tiny spikes in pressure. Something wasn’t quite right, but—between the liquor and the pressure—he was struggling to figure out what.
August stepped up closer to Lane, marveling at his handiwork. The owl’s enormous belly was close to being spherical, on the verge of being at one hundred percent capacity. It was a solid foot taller than he was. The creaks were constant, and so was the bubbling. August swore he even saw his friend quaking slightly at times. He stopped the flow of booze.
“Must be feeling quite full now, aren’t ya?” August asked.
A series of belches were the first response the lion got, but eventually the owl looked in his direction. “I think—urrrp—I think I drank—bworrp—too much.” Such few words had taken all of Lane’s energy to blurt out. He was drifting in and out of a drunken pressure daze, only just barely aware of his surroundings and what was happening.
“Bet you feel just about ready to burst.”
Lane nodded, weakly, before burping again.
“Just a belchy, bloated, boozy borb bomb ready to blow, right?” August practically snickered. He pressed a finger into Lane’s side, prompting a flurry of creaks and a whine from the owl.
“B-Be—urrrp—careful,” Lane mumbled.
“I don’t know. I’m rather interested in witnessing a bird explode in person. Could be fun~” August poked the owl again. “Plus I’m pretty sure I’d never have to worry about tripling in size on a mission if you were reduced to a crater and a pile of cider-soaked feathers.”
Lane’s eyes widened. Even drunk he could tell his friend wasn’t joking, and his position suddenly felt far more perilous than inconvenient. “W-Wait, don’t yourrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp—mmph!”
A paw had clamped Lane’s beak shut, preventing him from belching at all. The owl’s cheeks puffed up but nothing came out, and instead he swelled slightly more.
“Can’t have you losing any precious pressure by burping. I’d hate to delay your popping.” August laughed as he strolled to the far side of the room in order to escape the eventual blast radius. Lane watched him with nervousness in his eyes. He was completely at the mercy of the lion, and barely holding together. So many little things could pop him at that moment. Even wobbling felt dangerous. “And don’t worry, I’ll make sure to have a cleric re-form you. Though it’s a pricey procedure, so it might have to wait until I’ve sold this place. But hey, according to you that’ll be a breeze, won’t it borb bomb?”
The creaking had become non-stop, and Lane felt his hide struggling to hold together, quaking as the pressure spikes spread. The cider was settling, and for a few seconds he thought he might be able to endure it and remain in one piece. But then he saw the ghostly paws begin to circle him ominously. They danced around the bloated owl, occasionally dipping closer to pat his taut middle. The pats turned into prods, and the prods into pokes. Lane’s head was spinning, the pressure overwhelming him. He felt another burp coming, a big one. He knew it’d be too much, and his eyes bulged as his cheeks puffed out.
A tremendous creak and a rip heralded the first leak in the booze-filled owl, which spread like lightning. One second he was there, and the next a wave of feathers and cider was erupting in every direction. August safely ducked behind a pillar, dodging the sideways rain of liquor pelting the room. The walls shook, and furniture was thrown. Every window in the place shattered. The chain to the room’s chandelier was snapped by Lane’s beak, which had been launched in the explosion and ended up slamming into a wall like a dart. Feathers flew like snow in a storm, fluttering around and piling on the floor.
After riding out the explosion, August came out of hiding. The floorboards beneath Lane had been warped and cracked, leaving a bulging crater. A nearby pillar had been bent, and any furniture next to ground zero was now just splintered debris. The owl had been thoroughly obliterated.
“Might take longer than I thought to sell it considering the damage Lane’s drinking caused,” August chuckled to himself. “Though I think the wait to re-form will do him some good. And if not...well I certainly wouldn’t mind the chance to burst a borb again~”
The lion gleefully waddled out of the tavern, grabbing Lane’s beak along the way, if only to remind him to bring the owl back...eventually.
The allure of free cider leads to Lane becoming a volatile drunken borb bomb...
The Booze Bomb Bard
By: Indi
Lane tipped the mug up high, letting the cider within cascade into his open beak. The large owl bard chugged until the mug ran dry, shaking it to free the final few drops before putting it back down. He leaned back against the bar with his elbows on the counter, and let out an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction, grinning wide. “Nothing betterrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp than free booze!” he hooted. His round, bloated belly sloshed about, filled with a few gallons of liquor and jutting out of his tunic.
“Personally I prefer gold, but I guess you can’t exactly guzzle it.”
Lane looked over his shoulder at the fat gray lion behind the bar. “Oh stop being sourrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp, so sour, August! We saved the day, and got a whole tavern as a reward. You should be celebrating—braaaaaaaaaaap!”
The lion rolled his eyes. “The reward was supposed to be actual money, not an old tavern. We don’t even live in this city—what good is this place to us?”
“It keeps the thirst at bay, for one.” Lane gave his gut a slap with a talon, prompting another belch. “We could always just sell it.”
“That’ll take time. And it’ll be awhile before people stop associating this place with the previous owner and all the disappearances,” August said.
“Why would they?” Lane asked. “We defeated them, and put an end to their nefarious scheme of blimping up drunk patrons and selling them at the docks to captains in desperate need of extra crew. If anything they should be flocking to this place for drinks now that they know it’s safe.” He looked down at his empty mug. “Speaking of which; mind filling me up?”
“Sure,” August said, frowning. A gray bangle on the lion’s wrist glowed blue, and a pair of ghostly paws manifested in the air. One grabbed Lane’s mug and brought it to a keg on the wall, while the other waited to open the tap. Normally the mage didn’t mind using his powers for minor tasks, but he wasn’t quite in the mood that night.
“Really August, you need to learn to think positively,” Lane said, nudging his belly with his talons as he waited for his drink. “All that heft you gained, for example.”
August winced at the mention, but his reaction wasn’t noticed. Just two days ago he’d been lean, a third of his current weight. But while they were fighting the unicorn who’d previously owned the tavern, he’d been ambushed by a spell that filled him to the brim with cider. The rest of the fight was a blur, but August had woken up the next day with a terrible hangover...and a blubbery gut.
“If you hadn’t gotten hit by that spell, then I wouldn’t have been able to come from behind and force him to guzzle his own brew to take him out. I’d say that’s a small price to pay for victory!” Lane said.
“Well I just can’t help but think things would’ve been even better if you’d bothered pumping the booze out of me before I ballooned in size permanently,” August grumbled as he began pouring the cider.
“The weight’ll be good for ya. Take it from someone who’s always had a jiggle to their step—bigger’s better.” Lane laughed, and his middle wobbled with him. The cider shook and fizzed within his stomach, causing his belly to swell and a long, loud belch to echo from his beak.
I wonder if you’d still feel the same way if you were the one blimped up with booze, August thought to himself. With how much the owl was guzzling, he was on his way there already. And with some encouragement…
August’s frown turned into a grin, and he stopped filling the mug. “I’ll take that to heart, Lane. In fact, that gives me an idea.” His bangle glowed again, and four more paws appeared in the air. He directed them to the keg he’d been pouring cider from, and had them lift the entire thing off its shelf and through the air, bringing it around to Lane. The owl looked at the floating keg with curiosity.
“Why bother with a mug, when you can just have the whole keg at once?” August asked, with feigned innocence.
Lane’s eyes lit up. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!” He opened his beak in anticipation.
August angled the keg above his friend, then opened the tap. Cider flowed free, pouring right into Lane’s beak. Steadily the owl’s belly began to balloon outward, rounding more and more with every gulp. It gently wobbled, the sloshes and bubbling drowned out by the gulping. Lane felt his belly growing heavy with booze, but didn’t care. He wasn’t about to miss out on a chance to chug a whole keg in one go.
After a couple minutes the keg was empty, and August had his ghostly paws place it on the floor.
Lane groaned and giggled. “Soworrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp good! No wonder—braaaaaaaaaaaaap—people kept coming here despite the—buhurrrrrrrrp—despite the disappearances.” The belching had jostled his gut, and he watched it expand a bit more. His talons wandered down and began to rub and squeeze at his middle, feeling the weight of the cider within. He’d ed being merely tipsy, and wasn’t shy about expressing his joy of being bloated. In the past he’d guzzled water just to feel bigger, but liquor was proving far funner.
Two of the ghostly paws suddenly drifted into view. Lane followed them as they hovered and flipped, then let out a surprised hoot as they both grabbed his gut and gave it a shake.
“Woahurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp! Lane belched and swelled, blushing as the paws teased him.
“You’re almost more keg than bird,” August said, casually directing the paws to wobble and pat his friend’s middle. “Though I’m sure you don’t mind.”
The extra attention was unexpected, but undeniably delightful. “Few can handle their liquorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp as well as birds can!” Lane boasted.
“That true?” August asked.
“Yep! Braaaaaaaaaaaaaap! I’m not even at capacity yet.”
“Exactly what I was hoping to hear.”
Lane had been so distracted by the ghostly paws attending his belly that he hadn’t noticed the four others carrying a brand new keg to him. Despite his gloating, he felt a hint of hesitation in accepting a second full keg. Standing was already tough for the bloated bird. But then he thought of how wonderful it’d feel to be full of the cider within, and drunken desires overrode common sense. He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and opened his beak.
This time August had a paw rip the tap right off the keg, allowing the cider to gush out in a torrent. As it began to fill up Lane, he created four more paws, and used them to swiftly retrieve another keg. Its tap was ripped off as well, the two kegs creating a waterfall of liquor, all of which was emptying into the oblivious owl.
Lane’s belly was swelling past his knees, jiggling from the force of the cider filling it. The sloshing, splashing, and fizzing were starting to get louder. None of it ed in Lane’s mind, the owl lost in his own blissful world of overindulgence, still convinced he was only guzzling one more keg and not two. As he braced himself against the bar, the increasing weight of his belly didn’t even seem so bad.
More paws were manifested. Some were sent for a third keg, while the rest converged on Lane’s belly. They held it up to relieve the weight, and relentlessly massaged it, helping to distract the owl more. August wanted him to remain compliant for as long as possible.
A fourth keg arrived once the first was empty. Lane was rapidly blimping up, his immense belly hovering less than a foot off the floor, so heavy it took a half-dozen ghostly paws to hold it up. They made the owl feel only half as full, though even in his drunken state he was beginning to wonder why it was taking longer to drain the latest keg. Perhaps it’d been a bit bigger?
The waterfall of cider gradually dwindled as August ceased adding more kegs, until at last it dried up completely. Lane’s eyes sluggishly opened, and he let out a hiccup. At that moment, August called back the ghostly paws that’d been holding the owl up.
The true weight of his belly hit Lane all at once, and he immediately toppled over, arms flailing. He landed on his gut almost instantly, as it’d barely been off the floor. The short fall shook up the cider within him, causing it to fizz like crazy and blimp the owl up further. Momentum rolled Lane atop his sloshy, ballooning belly, beaching him atop it as he came to a stop. His cheeks puffed so big he swore he heard them creak, and his beak was forced open to unleash a tremendous Uarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp!!
The whole tavern rattled. Chairs and tables directly in front of Lane were either shoved back or knocked right over from the force of the blast. A window cracked. Dogs barked in the distance. August felt his belly jiggle and blushed.
Lane was left groaning from the powerful burp, and the fact he felt like he’d just guzzled a small pond of cider. “That was—urrrp—way morrrrrrrrrrp, way more than just—braaaaap—one keg,” the drunk owl managed.
“I was confident you could handle a few more, and you certainly did,” August said. The lion waddled around the other side of the bar so he could get a better look at his massive friend. Lane was still swelling slightly thanks to the bubbling cider, his frequent belches not nearly enough to fend off the bloating. He pressed an actual paw against Lane’s feathery side, and felt it wobble at his touch. It was a little taut, but still had some give. Which meant the owl wasn’t big enough yet. “Ready for round two?”
“R-Round two?” the owl said in surprise.
“There’s still so much liquor you haven’t tried yet, after all~” August had his swarm of ghostly paws press gently down upon the owl’s middle from all sides, forcing out a belch and a moan. “Bigger is better right?”
Lane nodded, his eyes wandering.
“Perfect.” August grinned wide. Keg after keg was lifted from behind the counter and carried over. Ghostly paws grabbed Lane by the cheeks and titled his head upward, gently opening his beak so he could guzzle faster. In his drunken stupor he let the paws do whatever they wanted, oblivious to the fact they were essentially forcing him to chug the cider.
Two more kegs poured into the owl, and the first hints of pressure reached his mind. It wasn’t bad, but it couldn’t be completely ignored, either. He’d never gotten so huge before, so he just shrugged it off as normal.
Low creaks echoed from Lane’s body as he swelled in every direction, rising higher. The sound brought a smile to August’s face. His need for revenge was escalating swiftly, and just filling the owl with booze wasn’t going to satisfy him anymore. He was going to teach Lane a lesson he’d never forget.
August ordered a group of ghostly paws to wobble the owl and shake up the cider he’d chugged, hastening his bloating. Lane found himself unable to do much else aside from belch in between kegs, the pressure steadily growing. His hide was getting taut, and each loud creak was accompanied by a tingling sensation somewhere. The once-pleasurable prods of the ghost paws now made him wince slightly as they created tiny spikes in pressure. Something wasn’t quite right, but—between the liquor and the pressure—he was struggling to figure out what.
August stepped up closer to Lane, marveling at his handiwork. The owl’s enormous belly was close to being spherical, on the verge of being at one hundred percent capacity. It was a solid foot taller than he was. The creaks were constant, and so was the bubbling. August swore he even saw his friend quaking slightly at times. He stopped the flow of booze.
“Must be feeling quite full now, aren’t ya?” August asked.
A series of belches were the first response the lion got, but eventually the owl looked in his direction. “I think—urrrp—I think I drank—bworrp—too much.” Such few words had taken all of Lane’s energy to blurt out. He was drifting in and out of a drunken pressure daze, only just barely aware of his surroundings and what was happening.
“Bet you feel just about ready to burst.”
Lane nodded, weakly, before burping again.
“Just a belchy, bloated, boozy borb bomb ready to blow, right?” August practically snickered. He pressed a finger into Lane’s side, prompting a flurry of creaks and a whine from the owl.
“B-Be—urrrp—careful,” Lane mumbled.
“I don’t know. I’m rather interested in witnessing a bird explode in person. Could be fun~” August poked the owl again. “Plus I’m pretty sure I’d never have to worry about tripling in size on a mission if you were reduced to a crater and a pile of cider-soaked feathers.”
Lane’s eyes widened. Even drunk he could tell his friend wasn’t joking, and his position suddenly felt far more perilous than inconvenient. “W-Wait, don’t yourrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp—mmph!”
A paw had clamped Lane’s beak shut, preventing him from belching at all. The owl’s cheeks puffed up but nothing came out, and instead he swelled slightly more.
“Can’t have you losing any precious pressure by burping. I’d hate to delay your popping.” August laughed as he strolled to the far side of the room in order to escape the eventual blast radius. Lane watched him with nervousness in his eyes. He was completely at the mercy of the lion, and barely holding together. So many little things could pop him at that moment. Even wobbling felt dangerous. “And don’t worry, I’ll make sure to have a cleric re-form you. Though it’s a pricey procedure, so it might have to wait until I’ve sold this place. But hey, according to you that’ll be a breeze, won’t it borb bomb?”
The creaking had become non-stop, and Lane felt his hide struggling to hold together, quaking as the pressure spikes spread. The cider was settling, and for a few seconds he thought he might be able to endure it and remain in one piece. But then he saw the ghostly paws begin to circle him ominously. They danced around the bloated owl, occasionally dipping closer to pat his taut middle. The pats turned into prods, and the prods into pokes. Lane’s head was spinning, the pressure overwhelming him. He felt another burp coming, a big one. He knew it’d be too much, and his eyes bulged as his cheeks puffed out.
A tremendous creak and a rip heralded the first leak in the booze-filled owl, which spread like lightning. One second he was there, and the next a wave of feathers and cider was erupting in every direction. August safely ducked behind a pillar, dodging the sideways rain of liquor pelting the room. The walls shook, and furniture was thrown. Every window in the place shattered. The chain to the room’s chandelier was snapped by Lane’s beak, which had been launched in the explosion and ended up slamming into a wall like a dart. Feathers flew like snow in a storm, fluttering around and piling on the floor.
After riding out the explosion, August came out of hiding. The floorboards beneath Lane had been warped and cracked, leaving a bulging crater. A nearby pillar had been bent, and any furniture next to ground zero was now just splintered debris. The owl had been thoroughly obliterated.
“Might take longer than I thought to sell it considering the damage Lane’s drinking caused,” August chuckled to himself. “Though I think the wait to re-form will do him some good. And if not...well I certainly wouldn’t mind the chance to burst a borb again~”
The lion gleefully waddled out of the tavern, grabbing Lane’s beak along the way, if only to remind him to bring the owl back...eventually.
Category Story / Inflation
Species Owl
Size 100 x 100px
File Size 71.7 kB
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