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At the dead of night, Judy sat back in the worn seat of a cab. She was severely undersized, sitting at half of its height. Her clothes were undersized, too; her thighs strained her camo pant legs and tested their seams. Her fat hips inched her pants down, and her fur floofed over the waistband in round, pinching rolls. The rabbit's middle now bore a cushy layer of pudge that nudged up her tank top, showing her deepened navel. Her heftier breasts hung heavy from her chest.
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A muggy staleness hung in the sunset air. In downtown Zootopia, the waning orange sunlight glowed on a forest of skyscrapers. The dying light obscured their growing cracks. This was a forest with no canopy. Instead, the residents of Zootopia found shade in the space between buildings. These were slim alleyways paved with hard asphalt. In winter, the ground underfoot froze; in summer, it scorched. An orange tabby scurried into one such alleyway. Darkness ensconced the alley, yet the cat's brilliant fur illuminated him. He was clad in an open white shirt and patched khaki pants. His arms and legs were lean, but a potbelly hung over his pants and jut out from his shirt. He leaned towards the opening of the alleyway.
Judy hopped through the window with a wide-open mouth. In downtown Zootopia, the waning orange sunlight glowed on a forest of skyscrapers. She slurped down the end of the owl, caught the owl's pumps in her teeth, bbw vore, and spit them out.
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Or will they find themselves forever trapped in this fleshy hell? As the car jostled over ill-maintained The cow was Madame President. Judy snatched the waistband of the owl's leather skirt and yanked the bird up into the window. A corpulent crocodile sat in the driver's seat. Finally, he sets out to confront his dreams, to see if there is anything there that might tell him what happened, and why he can't remember most of his childhood. Swinton flicked her forehoof, wagging the flab on her forearm. Her thickened thighs squished low and bobbed high, while her ample breasts jostled in her top, tugging painfully on her chest with their recent gains. Her hips squashed too wide for her chair, and their chunky flab bulged under the arms of the chair. Her chunky wings gripped the steering wheel, which bumped her bulbous belly. This was Wall Way, one of the few remaining avenues to downtown Nick tapped his temple. The can clattered on the road behind the car. Judy stepped in after him. Her voice was deep, husky, breathy.
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Her bunching breasts pushed against her shirt and shot off its top button. The ostrich's breasts, on the other hand, were small, pert orbs in her top. She stood next to the cat at half of his height. He was clad in an open white shirt and patched khaki pants. He pointed up the road. His stomps shook the ground. A lone airplane approached the skies over Zootopia. So I'm gonna say what you won't. We need to get 'er outta there. It's got zilch for nutrition, but it does at least meet caloric standards. Judy's expression remained. The spring-loaded door swung open, and she hopped out.
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