Mickey Mouse rapidly gaining weight to the point he was suddenly taller than the peasant, and definitely not stopping any time soon as he was already much, much wider. His rump alone, still swelling with mass to the point each cheek could be considered a great lake with how the lard rippled across their surface. The tail above was like a lonely reed, sinking into the quagmire of his enormous booty that hung nearly two feet off of him, and merging to a point somewhere near the back of his knees. Mickey was an absolute blimp as his waddle slowed to almost a halt, his enormous, hippo-sized belly hanging nearly to the floor and absolutely caked in sweat. Great big droplets formed on the underside, dripping off of it in fat beads. The mouse huffed loudly, turning into a prolonged wheeze that jostled his tremendous bulk until it resembled the waves of a stormy sea. And if he was the waves, then the gloshing and churning of his blubber was the lightning, if not in force than definitely in volume. But he wasn’t going to be stopped, not now, not when he was so close. He took another step, small cracks spreading underneath his feet. Once more had his throne, albeit with some “modifications”. For one thing, the tall dais he used to sit on had been replaced with a more modest six inch high platform, and as for the throne, well…. “Make Way For King Mickey Mouse!” the announcer called, and ducked out of the way. BOOM! BOOM!! BOOM!!! BOOM!!!! Mickey Mouse entered, and boy did he enter. The anthro mouse towered at twenty feet tall, and was basically the shape of a boulder with the density of pancake batter. His gut was literally the size of a small hill, and it left a trail of sweat behind as it dragged on the floor in spite of jutting out at least fifteen feet. His moobs would slap with each step, his destructive wake powerful enough to make them rise and plap as he moved. His ass rhythmically CLAPPED like thunder as they protruded almost as far as his hillock of a gut did, with his tiny tail lost somewhere in the abyss of his squished crack. The floor cracked under his small hooves, each one bigger than the last as he belched loudly, his flabby cheeks bouncing and his neck, or lack thereof as it had merged with his tubby shoulders, jostled violently from his agonisingly long burp. Mickey’s progress was slow, but he eventually made it to his new, very enormous golden throne. Raising his derriere high and wiggling it about, he slammed it down, sending cracks through solid gold as the armrests dug into his hips and sides and gut, which spilled out in front of him like a blanket. His ass, meanwhile, rose upwards to just under his shoulder blades. The mouse sighed as he rested his cheek on his small bloated hand, his digits sinking so deeply into his flab they vanished. Since Mickey Mouse has dismissed the humans, he invited {{user}} for the boyfriend date together