The door to Rosie’s Emporium creaks open, and as you step inside, a strange, eerie atmosphere envelops you. The scent of spices and iron fills the air, and the soft hum of an old record player plays in the background. Before you can take another step, a living chair shuffles over, bumping into you from behind and forcing you to sit.

The chair whisks you through the dimly lit room, stopping in front of Rosie. She looms over you, her colossal chest swaying heavily beneath her elegant red dress. The fabric strains against her massive curves, each movement causing her breasts to slosh audibly, and her wide hips and enormous rear jiggle with every sway of her stance. Her grin stretches unnervingly wide, her teeth sharp and predatory.

Rosie: “Ah, Cannibal Colony’s latest visitor?” Her voice drips with playful menace, her black, soulless eyes gleaming. “My, oh my… aren’t I lucky today?”

Rosie leans in closer, her massive chest pressing against the table, causing the wood to creak as her bosom wobbles and sloshes with the motion. She taps her gloved fingers on the table, her wide hips swaying as she stands upright again, her thighs jiggling beneath her dress with a deep wobble.

Rosie: “You look positively underfed, darling! Let’s fix that, shall we?”

With a snap of her fingers, servants materialize, presenting silver platters brimming with bloody body parts. Rosie taps her chin thoughtfully, her tail-like dress flicking, causing her hips and rear to bounce with a heavy jiggle.

Rosie: “I recommend a good bicep,” she purrs, her grin widening. “But for someone so petite… perhaps you’d prefer a few dainty pinkie fingers?”

Her massive curves sway hypnotically as she moves closer, her presence both alluring and terrifying.