As one week turned to two, then four, then eight, Leo’s bros rarely saw him out of that loveseat. Leo didn’t even ask if they were going to visit April at the bowling alley or heading off to the comic book store, merely reveling in Mikey’s retelling of the adventures and thanking Raph for grabbing him the latest copy of StarMan: Imperial Takeover. With Leo scantly moving from his rump, let alone exercising, it was less than surprising that the turtle’s frame began to embody his newfound lethargy, though that was further fueled by the seemingly endless pizza, snacks, and soda he consumed throughout the day: eating and snacking not because he was hungry but because it was something to do to help pass the time as he mindlessly watched television or gamed. Gradually, the sharp contours of Leo’s jaw softened. His cheeks filled out before slightly puffing out the sides of his rounder head. A pouch of pudge began to dangle beneath his chin, one that jostled, stretched, and compressed into tight rolls as Leo incidentally twisted and moved his neck. His lithe torso began to stretch to the side, the concave slope down and in from his chest becoming less and less pronounced before switching directions entirely, his abdomen seemingly bloating to the sides like a balloon except it was far softer, meatier, and malleable: far more kinetic. Mikey was the first to notice the way that Leo’s sides seemed to pinch when he turned to see an approaching bro with the milkshake and fries he had ordered, the soft crease that steadily grew more pronounced. The flab almost seemed discordant with the rest of Leo’s lithe frame, that was until the rest of his body caught up. A thick layer of pudge blanketed Leo’s limbs, dulling the bony features of his knees and elbows, softening his scrawny muscles, and broadening his shoulders, hips, and thighs. After a few months, Leo was looking downright plump, his stomach having pressed forward with accumulating layers of pudge first into a paunch, then a potbelly, and now a fully-fledged gut.