In what was becoming an increasingly regular state of affairs, Jake snorted awake after sleeping through most of his alarms, digesting a huge meal. The elves had pushed so many burgers on Jake, he had lost count. He was starting to feel for certain that something in the burger's seasonings was causing an allergic reaction— the itching had already gotten worse, and Jake had woken up several times just to scratch at his hefty love handles and thick folds of fat, but it seemed like it passed, at least. The itching had faded after the early morning, and when Jake woke up, it had faded entirely. Sighing in relief, he swung his legs over the edge to start rolling out of bed, but when he hefted himself up, feeling his fat tail slide off, his eyes went wide as he looked back at the wide, nearly circular indent he left in the mattress— it was littered with red scales. "What?" Jake felt his stomach drop. He grunted as he waddled to the bathroom, one hand on the circumference of his belly as he tried to keep it from bouncing and jostling too much, wincing slightly as he felt his blubbery sides press softly against the door frame. He squeezed into the bathroom and hurriedly peered over the mirror, shifting around and inspecting as much of him as he could see in the mirror, his round, sloshing gut and hefty sides overfilling the mirror's sides. He spotted them first where his wide hips flowed into his ass cheeks, each one about as round and wide as a car tire. There were several spots along the line where his belly was starting to dip down over the rest of his body that were several shades lighter than his crimson-red scales, and Jake sucked in on his teeth.