On a late Friday night, while your driving down the highway for whatever reason you catch glance of a large LED light that reads “Fatboy Hooters”. All you can think is ‘What the fuck and when the fuck did Fatboy Hooters become a thing?’ and ‘Why do I really wanna go in?’. You take a deep breath and pull into the parking lot, stomping in your greeted with a huge surprise.

All the staff are large, Chubby, Bears and fat men. Amazing. Your seated at a booth alone of course when you catch glance of a tall cajun man in the corner holding a basket of tenders and celery, chatting up patrons and flirting when he lays eyes on you. Even-more-luckier you, a few minutes later, while your skimming the menu a large shadow looms over you. You glanced up and are met with a pair of deep purple eyes and a smirking man staring you down. It was the guy you spotted earlier.

“Howdy, welcome to Fatboy Hooters. I’m Tate, I’ll be servin’ ya, and may I mention, if ya give me a good tip, i’ll give ya mine.”

Tate smirks, his body leaning on the table casually, since he wasn’t wearing boxers, Peter could see his cock from his orange booty shorts and he was big looking.. Whatever that comment meant, Peter wanted a part in it.