Sister Princess Saturday Report! No. 19 – Having You for Dinner
Wataru stared glumly at the food in front of him.
He had ingested five pizzas already, and Shirayuki had six more waiting in line. Wataru could feel his stomach bulging outward. He loosened his belt another notch as he ripped off a slice from the pizza sitting in front of him and wolfed it down.
There’s so much food here, Wataru thought to himself. Is Shirayuki trying to kill me?
It seems depressing that so much time could pass before Wataru would actually suspect one of these malicious murderers of trying to off him, but that is where we stand. However, perhaps it would be helpful for us to see how Wataru got to this point. Actually, I doubt it will be helpful at all, but let us partake in this journey nevertheless.
This mess began at school, as these events so often do. Wataru was scarfing down lunch in the classroom while Shirayuki smiled at him. Normally she would attempt to poison the lunch she fed to Wataru, but lately her ego had wrested control from her common sense, and thus she fed Wataru the best-tasting food she could cook and watched with pride as he scarfed down her delicious concoctions with the table manners of a chimpanzee starting a food fight with its feces. But while Wataru shoveled food down his throat with nary a crumb even brushing his taste buds, he was being watched jealously.
By whom, you may ask? By his best friend in the class: Yamada.
. . . By whom, you may ask? I cannot blame you for having forgotten the name of this ignorant whelp. I take great care in mentioning him as little as possible; unfortunately, this tale cannot proceed without that idiot rearing his deformed head.
So, yes, Wataru’s idiot friend, Yamada, watched him with jealous eyes. Yamada had nobody to make him lunches every day, because only a moron like Wataru could possibly see anything likable in Yamada. This Yamada was spoiled rotten, so he was never left wanting for money with which to buy food at school each day. Everyone knows, however, that food bought at a school is no match for food lovingly crafted by the hands of a younger sister, even if that younger sister has a taste for murder.
After class, Yamada waited in the hallway for Shirayuki and took her aside to speak for a moment.
“Wataru likes that food you feed him, right?” Yamada asked.
“Of course he does!” Shirayuki chirped. “I’m the best cook on the island!”
“That’s swell,” Yamada said. “It seems to me, though, that you’re not feeding him enough.”
“What do you mean?” Shirayuki said. “Elder Brother always seems full after he is finished with my meals.”
“Of course his stomach is full, but what about his heart?” Yamada asked.
“What?” Shirayuki said.
“You must feed Wataru so much food that not only his stomach is stuffed, but also his soul!” Yamada said. “It is only when his soul is full that a man will be satisfied!”
“You really think so?” Shirayuki asked.
“I know so!” Yamada replied.
“Then I’d better get to work right away!” Shirayuki turned around and ran off while Yamada chucked to himself. Wataru surely won’t be able to eat all that food by himself! he thought. When he’s so full that his stomach will explode, I’ll swoop in and grab all that extra food for myself! It’s the perfect plot!
And that is roughly how we got to where we are at right now. Not very illuminating, yes? You surely did not expect me to recount every insipid detail. My time is precious despite the fact that I spend so much of it funneling the details of a worthless journey into something halfway resembling a coherent narrative. Oh, and please ignore the fact that Wataru could not possibly have jotted down the details of the preceding conversation. We are all better off not considering such silly details.
From then on, Shirayuki spent much of her time in the kitchen. She cooked and cooked and cooked some more, and when she was finished cooking, she shoveled her food into Wataru’s increasingly fat face and went right back to cooking again. She cooked so much food that Wataru was scarcely able to sleep; he ate everything Shirayuki cooked out of a crippling fear that he would somehow disappoint her. Wataru was a skinny string bean boy, but not after Shirayuki was finished with him — he blew up slowly like a balloon until the Sisters suddenly decided to vacation out in the woods.
Truthfully, they were tired of Shirayuki gorging Wataru with food; they were afraid that he would die of a heart attack or something before he was ready to be sacrificed to the Sister Princess. Unfortunately for them, Shirayuki had the foresight to bring a portable kitchen, which she used to bring this vignette full circle and cook pizza after pizza for Wataru.
Wataru breathed heavily as he crammed yet another slice of pizza down his gullet. He could practically feel his arteries harden as he ingested each greasy slice. Wataru’s stomach rumbled angrily, as if it were warning him that the next piece of pizza would be the one to break the dam, and then all hell would break loose. His eyes could no longer focus on anything; they were blank and dead. Wataru tried to pick up another slice and shove it into his drooling maw, but he no longer had the strength to do so.
“No . . . more . . .” Wataru wheezed.
“What?” Shirayuki asked.
“I can’t . . . eat . . . any more . . .” Wataru huffed, launching into a coughing fit that nearly expelled every slice he had eaten that day.
“But that can’t be!” Shirayuki said. “Your soul isn’t full! You need to eat more! More!”
“Wait, what is this?” Karen asked, walking up to Shirayuki and grabbing her by the shoulders.
“Wataru’s friend told me that I needed to feed Wataru more so that his soul would be full and he’d be happy!” Shirayuki said. “So I’ve been trying to feed him as much as possible!”
“Wataru has friends?” Karen asked.
“Indeed he does!” Yamada shouted, leaping out from behind a bush and charging toward the pizza. “You fell for it hook, line and sinker, and now I’ll be taking the pizza!”
“Hold it!” Sakuya said, grabbing Yamada by the collar and jerking him backward. She threw Yamada toward the ground and planted a foot on his chest. “I don’t know who you are, or what your deal is . . .”
“I’m Yamada!” Yamada said. “I’m the quirky best friend character who gets in all sorts of amusing scrapes!”
“. . . and I don’t care, but I’m not going to stand by and let you screw everything up,” Sakuya said. She pulled Yamada to his feet and shoved him toward the trailer they had driven out to the woods. “I’m nipping this problem in the bud.” Sakuya opened the door and threw Yamada inside. I am not certain what happened afterward, but I do know that a lot of clean-up was necessary.
“Now we need to get Big Brother home,” Karen said.
“If we move him with all that food inside, there’s a chance he may have a bad reaction,” Chikage said.
“Then we’ll just need to gut it out of him,” Sakuya said, walking out of the trailer and putting on some rubber gloves. She was covered in blood from head to toe. Sakuya pulled out a scalpel and descended toward Wataru. I’m sure you all know what happens next, and that I will not need to go into the bloody details, which is fine by me because I personally consider it quite disgusting. The mere thought of Sakuya cutting into Wataru and removing lumpy pieces of wet, half-digested food makes me queasy . . .