"That would be me, mademoiselle."
Directly down the hall, staring her down, was none other than the dastardly maestro of gluttony himself, Chef Garçon. A chubby boy in his youth, he had sworn to make everyone on Earth just as fat as he once was so they would feel his pain. As he stood there in his immaculate white clothes and neckerchief, Jennifer could see him stirring something in a pot floating in mid-air.
"What are you up to, Garçon?"
"What do you mean, my little latex libertine? I only want to make people happy. It's not my fault if they gorge themselves to death on my cooking."
Jennifer didn't really want to go through the whole "villain's monologue" thing so she rushed in to put the Chef's lights out. But suddenly, he waved his hand and she stopped.
"My dear, there will be plenty of time for fighting later. For now, I'd like you to taste my latest creation." He waved his hand again, and the stew he was cooking in the pot rose up. The chef manipulated it with hand gestures, carefully shaping into a flowing stream. He nodded at Jennifer, and without hesitation, she opened her mouth.
And then before she could will back control of her body, the first taste of stew hit her tongue. And it wasn't good, or even great, but truly the most delicious thing she had ever tasted. It had notes of sweetness and sourness, tanginess and saltiness, all working together in perfect harmony. Jennifer stopped fighting Garçon's hypnosis. She just kept her mouth open, swallowing gallon after gallon of stew. With each gulp, the latex of her catsuit strained as her arms, legs, ass, and torso started packing on fat. Jennifer's whole face swelled up as she went from a stacked muscular goddess to a size 13 BBW in a matter of minutes.
But then, the chef closed his fist, and just like that, the stew went back into the pot. Jennifer stood there, tears rolling down her face. "Please, I want to keep eating."
"Oh, I'm sorry, mademoiselle, but I believe your free lunch is about to expire." Suddenly, Jennifer felt tremendous pain and bloating in her gut. The chef snickered. "It seems your stomach can't handle so much rich food at once. I'd say your entire intestinal track is about to burst, and then you'll die. What a truly sad way to go. Unless..."
"Unless what?" Jennifer was starting to feel something rushing through her guts. If she had to guess, it was probably a big load of shit, ready and waiting to explode and destroy her insides permanently.
"Unless this." The chef waved a small vial in his hand and poured it into a glass of reddish liquid. "This antidote will keep you from dying of your own foolish decisions, but there's a cost. You'll be fat for the rest of your life, and no medication or diet or fitness plan will change that. However, it also means that you can eat or drink anything, and it won't harm you. Even if you ate a can of nails and drank gasoline, you would be completely fine."
Jennifer sensed something else. "And the catch?"
The chef smiled. "The catch, Latex Ranger, is that from this day, until the end of the days, you will be my lovely partner-in-crime. You will help me fulfill my mission to fatten up every man and woman in this entire godforsaken world. And in return, I will give you all the delicious meals your heart desires. Or you can just die with your dignity, whatever is left of it. The choice is yours."