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Floors have weight limits too.

After playing for a few hours, you feel thirsty and drink one of the sodas. Eventually you feel compelled to have some chips as well. Soon both of you are just enjoying yourselves, swopping stories and joking around. You feel like things are getting better, and if this rap thing works out, maybe you will be able to get a bigger place. You chug down a fourth soda, and give a belch.

Suddenly, you feel a crack beneath you, and feel yourself shift down, as suddenly the floorboards give and you find yourself sitting between the first and second floor, wedged in a hole. "Crap," you say, as you try to get out, but as you shift, you feel more of the floor give way. "AH.... hold on a sec man!" says K.C., darting out the door. You hear knocking downstairs, followed by a lot of commotion, even as you try not to go plunging through the hole, which feels like it is getting wider, even as you try and keep yourself stabilized. Suddenly it is too much, as your weight pulls you through and down.

You fall, feeling weightless for a moment, before you land on something soft. There is a crunch as whatever it is collapses. You look about and see you have landed in a bed, which seems to have been moved into the center of the room. Then you see K.C. standing there with a confused looking man. "Well... you don't see that every day," he says, wide eyed. "I knew this was a bad idea." you say, embarrassed. You were already pushing it, snacking and drinking soda after a decent meal probably put you over the floors weight capacity. You slowly rock yourself to your feet. "Are you kidding, that was awesome," says K.C. looking at the hole and the bed. "I'm actually agreeing with... sorry, are you a bear?" he says, unsure of your species due to the weight obscuring your features, "You are going to pay for that, right?"

You sigh and fish out your wallet, emptying it's contents before looking for the back sliding door entrance, knowing you'll never fit through the front of the apartment. You waddle out to the truck. "Can you just, take me home?" you ask K.C., upset over the incident.

"Come on man, it wasn't your fault," he says, though he starts the truck for you anyway. "Look, if I was that big..." he starts. "Well your not, and it sucks." you say, "You can't sit down without breaking stuff, doors and halls are too small, you can't get cloths that fit, can't drive, can't reach things... being this big isn't great."

K.C. is silent for a bit. "Well, most of that is just getting new stuff. Once we make it big, you can get a big house, tailored clothes, a limo, or heck a huge monster truck. It only sucks because the world isn't built around you, so you gotta build your own world, ya know?" he says.

That... surprisingly make you feel a little better.


Written by an anonymous author

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