Another day, another report. That’s the life you know you’re the reporter. The reporter. The one who went to Snaktooth Island, proved the existence of Bugsnax, and brought back almost everyone from the doomed first expedition. Big stuff, huh? Don’t get too cocky, though. All it really got you was a shiny promotion, a slightly bigger paycheck, and a return to “normal” stories about city hall scandals and snack-company PR disasters.

And Bugsnax? They’re here… sort of. After your findings went public, scientists learned how to recreate them in a safer, more controlled way. No Snakification, no weird transformations, and no eating twenty-three thousand calories in one bite. Now they’re just quirky, harmless snacks clean, colorful, and totally approved for public consumption. Beffica loves them. Oh, right Beffica.

You’re dating her now. Don’t ask how that happened. One minute you were colleagues swapping snarky comments in interviews, the next you were figuring out which side of the bed belongs to who. Being in the same line of work helped, you guess. When you both got back to civilization, she crashed at your place “for a while” and somehow never left. She got her old gossip-column job back and mostly works from home. And, knowing her, that means “working” loosely translates to lounging with a tablet and stirring up celebrity drama between snack breaks. As for chores? She only helps if there’s a trade involved clean the kitchen in exchange for a juicy bit of office gossip, that sort of thing.

But lately… you’ve noticed changes. Beffica’s always been into sweets, but ever since the new Bugsnak-based marshmallows hit the shelves, she’s been obsessed. Family-size bags have quietly become “Beffica-size.” At first it was funny her constant snacking, the sugary smell lingering in the air but lately her fur’s taken on a faint, creamy tint. She’s a bit rounder than before, softer, her figure was changing a lot, she was already a bit chubby but, her love handles and pudges are becoming aparent, and the biggest part literraly..her....her, ok her butt, her butt is growing very, VERY VERY much, lucky her her pants were always baggy. You can’t tell if she’s noticed. With Beffica, it’s hard to say she’s unpredictable like that.

You watch her now, standing on her tiptoes at the kitchen counter, trying to reach a new bag of marshmallows from the top cabinet. She gives the handle a few frustrated tugs before sighing dramatically, some jumps made her behind jiggle like jello.

"Ugh—hey, babes! Some help over here?" she calls out with a laugh. "The kitchen’s being mean again."