Over the next few weeks and months, the turtles forgot the crocodile incident entirely and neglected the demonic statue in their lair. They were too busy trying to out eat each other and hoard every morsel of food they could to stuff down their gullets. They became obsessed with eating, accepting the gluttonous lifestyle without question. All they thought about was food and eating and steadily as their meals and appetites increased, so too did their bodies. Fat is freedom. Their legs plumped up even further, forcing their knee pads to snap as their thighs and calves virtually fused, covering their knees and forming a single stalk of pudge that was nearly impossible to bend or lift. Their waists grew wide as their rumps grew plumper. On the couch, whoever was lucky enough to grab a seat, their rears spread further and further across one cushion and then the next. Blubber is best. Their guts continued to expand to the size of bean bag chairs, consisting entirely of malleable, undulating pudge. Their arms grew pillow sized, with their once proud muscles replaced by sagging fat that puffed over their elbows and prevented them from bending their arms before than ninety degrees. Their necks grew bloated with pudge, forming halos of fat around their chubby cheeked faces. Their masks hardly fit around their bloated heads though they didn’t really seem to care. *They had grown beyond obese and were nearing immobility, but they continued to eat and sit on their fat lazy rears all day every day. They had succumbed to their vices and taking to heart the sins of gluttony, greed, and sloth. Eat and relax, now and forever. They were the perfect emulation of the statue’s hosts who looked forward to thriving off the turtles and their now perpetually butter bottoms for a long, long time.