Anthony continued to chug the shake, seemingly unable to get enough of the delicious enchanted mixture. As he continued to greedily slurp down the liquid, however, the audience noticed that there was a new dimension of weight being added. What had originally been a cut six-pack slowly began to congeal into first an average stomach and then pushed forward, straining the limits of the sleeveless workout shirt. It seemed that the shake wasn't only good for adding muscle weight!
Madame Illusia watched with captivation as the musclebound hunk filled in fat. "And now, you see, we have reached the point of excess. You know, they say protein shakes are mostly full of sugars and fats. In moderation they can be crucial for building muscle, but if you don't know when to stop...."
Despite noticing the growing tightness in his waistband and his shirt, Anthony couldn't stop sucking down the shake. The taste was too good, and the drive to grow was too great. He couldn't comprehend that he was losing definition and replacing it with a growing gut - he needed more of that shake!
The audience murmured amongst themselves as Anthony's tight pecs were replaced with sagging breasts, and as thick, meaty love handles spilled over the sides of his shorts. What had begun as a transformation toward the height of male excellence and beauty was suddenly taking a turn toward the horrific and grotesque. "Look at him! He's a whale!" someone shouted, "No, a waterballoon!" yelled another. It was true - the unending cup seemed to be filling him up and out without a conclusion in sight. Anthony gulped longer and deeper, and with every passing second he moved from ripped muscle god to enormous slob. His arms had long since transformed from veiny pythons into sagging sausages. There was hardly and inch of him remaining not covered in chub. His tight shorts were stretched to their absolute maximum, stressed beyond belief as they attempted to cover the increasing surface of his meaty thighs. Almost seamlessly, he adjusted his stance to accomodate for his shifting center of gravity, hardly breaking his drinking rhythm as he did so. His entire body jiggled with the motion, his sagging gut swaying ponderously at the stimulus.
Finally, Anthony lowered the shake from his mouth, panting desperately for air momentarily before releasing an enormous belch that seemed to shake the tent with its force. It was at this moment that he seemed to finally snap out from under the force of the spell and realized what had become of his once trim body. With a look of horror, he looked down at the mountain of fat he had become, shifting his body experimentally to test the way his thick fat quivered in response.
"What the fuck have you done to me!? I'm enormous!" he yelled, still heaving his breaths from the exhaustion of such a desperate chugging only moments before.
"It's not what I'VE done, my boy, but what you've done to yourself. I merely gave you a tool that could give you everything you'd ever wanted if you used it sparingly. You're the one that didn't know when to put to put down the bottle," Madame Illusia replied to a peal of laughter from the audience. Anthony turned a scarlet red of rage, looking ready to throttle her.
"Why I oughtta-" he said, looking almost ready to tackle her.
"But, I won't have it said that I'm not generous enough to help a boy who has drunk himself into a mess he lacks the discipline to fix. Is there anyone in the audience who would be so kind as to help remove the weight Anthony has accumulated here? Perhaps a trade of some sort can be arranged..."