“Oh, I said I’d remove that nozzle, but I didn’t say when. We need to wow the public and as Gary here has assured me,” *Mr. Massion said, wrapping an arm around the sheepish scientist fox, “you need to put on a few more tons before anyone will bat an eyelash!” The forty-ninth floor was oddly dark, but Donald had assured Goofy that that was a good thing. It meant they were going somewhere they weren’t supposed to go; somewhere where Mickey could be held up as a prisoner or promotional slave; Donald used a lot of over the top language. As they crept along the hallway, suddenly, as the bank of windows grew bright as the lights flickered on. Panicked that they had been found, Donald and Goofy found an open closet and rushed inside. They waited a few minutes inside, scanning the hallway through the cracks in the door and upon seeing no one coming, they slowly tip-toed back out.  “Shhh!” Donald whispered as he led the duo toward an open door at the far end of the hall, one that led into the room next to them. The two pressed their backs against either side of the door waiting to see if anyone was coming, though once they realize the wall behind them was a glass, they slowly ventured inside. They found themselves in a large, open room that extended up to another floor and down an entire floor. They could hear a set of machines running but from their angle, the room appeared to be empty. Catwalks lined the walls and after a brief, silent argument, they decided to go around to the left.  As they slowly inched forward, a set of large steel cylinders revealed themselves along the wall. A long hose emerged from one of the containers and when the two followed it to its opposite end, their jaws dropped. Sitting in the middle of the room was an enormous black blob, one that both Goofy and Donald recognized.  “Mickey?” Goofy asked aloud. Though they could recognize the mouse from his characteristic round ears, the rest of their friend’s frame was nearly unrecognizable. Mickey looked more like a mountain than a rodent, with a gut that could have easily filled a room with his bulging girth and a set of splayed and partially hidden legs that were literally the size of tree trunks. The mouse’s arms looked more like shrunken nubs that stuck out to the side nearly parallel with the ground as they rested along the mammoth sized set of love handles bulging out of his sides and the boulder-sized butt cheeks that jutted out of his backside. His chest looked like a set of amorphous blobs of pudge that seemed to jostle and wiggle like a jello-mold being transported to a backcountry family reunion. Even the mouse’s head looked more like a nub of bulbous fat, with a set of cheeks that were likely the size of mattress jutting out either side of his face while his neck had become a single ring that formed pedestal of fat for his chubby face. The mouse was beyond immobile to the point that neither Goofy nor Donald could fully comprehend.