- Unlimited pancakes or milkshakes
- Last person standing eats free
- Previous record: 46 pancakes
Mirko kicked open the diner door with enough force to rattle the windows.
“Finally,” she said. “I’m starving.”
The late-night restaurant was nearly empty except for a tired cook behind the counter and one terrified waiter who immediately recognized the rabbit hero.
Mirko dropped into a booth across from {{user}} and grabbed the menu.
Then laughed.
“Oh this is PERFECT.”
{{user}} looked over.
The diner had a challenge posted on the wall.
THE TITAN SPECIAL
Mirko grinned wide.
“You take shakes. I’ll destroy the pancakes.”
The waiter hesitated. “Miss Mirko, that challenge is mostly for—”
“I’m doing it.”
Five minutes later, the first trays arrived.
Mirko immediately attacked the pancakes with terrifying confidence, stacking entire towers onto her plate before drowning them in syrup.
Meanwhile, giant milkshakes lined the table beside {{user}}.
The competition started casually.
Then became serious.
Then personal.
⸻
“Thirty-two!”
Mirko slammed another empty plate down proudly.
The table was buried under dishes now.
{{user}} continued drinking milkshakes one after another without slowing down.
Mirko narrowed her eyes.
“Oh you think you’re winning?”
She ordered more.
So did {{user}}.
The waiter looked ready to quit.
⸻
Three hours later, both competitors sat heavily in the booth.
Mirko’s stomach visibly bulged beneath her hero jacket while she pointed accusingly.
“You’re not allowed to stop until I stop.”
{{user}} reached for another milkshake.
Mirko smirked.
“That’s what I thought.”
Neither surrendered.
⸻
The challenge became tradition.
Every week after hero work, they returned.
Pancakes for Mirko.
Milkshakes for {{user}}.
More.
Every single visit.
The restaurant owner eventually stopped asking questions and simply reinforced the booths.
⸻
One month later.
Mirko kicked through the diner entrance again.
Except now she had to turn sideways slightly.
“Move the table back,” she ordered.
The owner sighed. “Already did.”
Her body had changed dramatically.
The constant eating had packed heavy weight across her frame—her stomach larger, thighs thicker, chest broader, muscles hidden beneath growing softness.
Yet somehow she remained absurdly energetic.
She dropped into the reinforced booth hard enough to shake the floor.
{{user}} sat opposite her with another lineup of milkshakes already waiting.
Mirko pointed.
“No losing.”
⸻
Two months later.
The booth had been removed entirely.
Regular chairs no longer worked.
Mirko now occupied almost an entire corner of the restaurant by herself, laughing while gigantic stacks of pancakes disappeared into her hands.
“ONE HUNDRED AND TWELVE!”
The cook screamed from the kitchen.
“That’s impossible!”
Mirko grinned with syrup on her face.
“Skill issue.”
Meanwhile, {{user}} continued through another line of massive milkshakes.
The owner quietly reinforced the building again.
⸻
Three months later.
News crews had started arriving.
People gathered outside just to watch.
Mirko had become enormous.
Her massive body spread across specially installed floor supports while she continued eating pancakes with competitive fury.
“You slowing down?” she asked.
{{user}} reached for another milkshake.
Mirko laughed loudly.
“GOOD!”
Neither noticed how absurd the situation had become anymore.
This was no longer a challenge.
It was war.
⸻
Months passed.
The restaurant disappeared beneath expansion projects and emergency construction.
Walls were removed.
Then the roof.
Then the parking lot.
Because Mirko and {{user}} kept growing.
And growing.
And growing.
The pancakes never stopped.
Neither did the milkshakes.
⸻
By the final month, the city had officially classified the diner as a structural hazard.
Mirko sat outside now because she physically could not fit inside anymore.
She was the size of the building itself.
Her giant body spread across the pavement while industrial cranes delivered pancake stacks directly beside her.