Jen's mother typed something into the touchscreen once again, and the light produced two bowls the size of halved yoga balls, each filled to overflowing with scrambled eggs, bacon bits, fried potato, melted cheese, diced peppers and onions, and crumbled sausage. Neither of the slovenly women hesitated to pork out on the enormous helpings of second breakfast, sticking their faces directly into it and eating like pigs. As Jen ate, a long, loud, musky fart escaped her butt cheeks, going uninterrupted for a solid two minutes. Her mother responded with a butt trumpet of her own, one that seemed to end with a lump of shit escaping her rectum.
Soon, both of them had finished their meals, huffing and heaving and belching in relief. Jen rubbed her prodigious gut, her slob memories feeling very satisfied and aroused and her normal memories feeling very overburdened and queasy.
"So," Jen's mother asked, "what's my little piggy planning for today?"
"Uhh..." she lingered, having no idea what she was going to do. Luckily, her slob memories kicked out a reply, "I was going to join on a quest with my friends online?"
"You and that *BWWOOORRP* computer game. It must be really fun if you're up there playing it for hours on end!"
"I don't play it that much!" Jen retorted, but her mother just laughed.
"Really, it's fine dear! Your father would be proud of how good you are!"
This seemed to lighten Jen up a bit, as lingering memories on her slob side remembered that her father was inordinately good at video games, earning him the name Jacob "Button Cleaver" Poopsmith.
Jen's normal memories suddenly retched at the realization that her last name in this world was "Poopsmith".
"Well I won't keep you from helping your *BeeeAAAARRRP* friends out!" her mother cheered, "You go have fun, and I'll have Martha beam you up your lunches."
With that, Jen returned to her room to presumably play an online game with her friends. But first, her slob memories had better get her normal memories up to speed on the situation. She plodded over to her computer desk, and plopped rather unceremoniously onto the floor. The desk was short enough, granted, but she wondered why she didn't have a chair to sit on. Nevertheless, she clicked on her PC's native web browser and began to study.
Glendale, she learned, was a town on a colony planet owned by a mega conglomerate called KyPer Tech. This planet, known as Slobania, was one of hundreds owned by this company. Slobania was a planet of slobs, obviously, and KyPer Tech had supplied the planet with enough technology to promote and maintain this lifestyle. Food replicators, automated transportation, and special pharmaceuticals, just to name a few examples. Other planets followed different lifestyles, each with suitable technology of their own.
Slobs on this planet, in short, love being fat, filthy, and farty. They eat well over quadruple in an hour what other people would eat in a day. They bathe themselves in things like soda, mud, sewage, and even their own waste! They love to fart and burp a lot. They have last names that consist of things like Assdump, Gasstasia, Spunkpuke, Johnshit, Pooplord, and lots of other gross sounding things.
As Jen took in this information, her slob memories helped fill in some of the blanks. She shat and pissed herself at the same time as she studied and digested the information.
Planet Slobania. Her slob memories' home, and her normal memories' prison.
"Kyle, I'm going to get you for this," she muttered to herself.