Interpol HQ As the morning went on, Carmelita's son named Crimson just woke up from his sleep. Just then, the young fox suddenly felt the ground below him shake a bit. He thought nothing of it, considering just how large and burly some of the other officers in the building were. But then he heard a hefty, yet familiar sounding voice speak to him… “Yawn… Morning Honey…” said the voice. Crimson looked up and went wide eyed at what, or rather, “who” was passing by. Waddling by with a coffee mug in hand, was Carmelita, looking tired and oddly unbothered by her current condition. She was much taller, but also much more rotund and obese. Her zip up top being stretched by a bloated chest, to the point where she had to unzip it a bit to keep it from tearing. Her coat was still intact but was much too small for her jumbo sized frame. With a giant round belly hanging low to the ground, and hips so absurdly wide that her pants barely contained them, Carmelita’s appearance felt more like a parody of its former slenderness, making her a walking embodiment of every possible stereotype relating to fat people.