Hey, Daddy-Bear. How are you doing?
The Good Lady asked in a disquietingly gentle voice.
I looked up in suspicion from the bowl of pasta I was having as my mid-morning snack.
I am fine, dear woman. How are you, oh recipient of my meat?
I boomed loudly to chase her off.
I am fine.
She ignored my meaty comment and pulled a chair out and sat next to me at the table, placing a hand gently on my forearm.
Inside I nodded with approval that she hadn't been so foolish as to lay a hand on my fork arm. That way madness lay.
I lifted another mouthful of spicy sausage pasta to my mouth and gave it a happy chew. I wondered what the Good Lady was after? She had laid a hand on me which by any measure must mean she was trying to rev up the old beef corvette for a drive.
Inwardly, I chuckled. Patience, lady of mine. Can you not see that old Daddy-Bear has a bowl of pasta to finish and then might need a short nap?
There will be time for finagling later. Perhaps.
Fuck, I noticed she was still there. Looking at me, saying nothing but with an odd look of pity in her eyes.
Can I help you then?
I said hoping that I couldn't.
Well, Daddy-Bear, perhaps I can help you!
Her voice seemed artificially light. There was something wrong here. Something in the wind and I didn't mean the wind from our oldest cat's arse.
I frowned magnificently at her.
Help me? How? How can you help me?
I commanded like an 18th Century English Lord speaking to a peon.
I am glad you asked. You know with this lockdown situation we have all gained a few pounds. Only to be expected. Well, some of the girls are getting together a Whatsapp group for losing the COVID Weight. We will do a weekly weigh-in via a video call and treat it as a bit of fun but also you know... seriously? I wondered, if you would like to join in?
She grinned hugely at me.
I grimaced as if I were a teenage boy who's fat Aunty had made a comment about his bedroom being where it all happens.
What do you mean, you want me to join in? Like a referee or something? A Judge kind of thing, like on Pop Idol but with fat women?
I asked in a confused tone.
A referee? A Judge? Oh!! Oh ho, haha hhahahhahahhaha. Oh my! Oh no, you! You didn't?! Oh, Daddy-Bear... What?!
The Good Lady creased herself in two as if she had been stricken with sudden onset Spina Bifida.
I was a little baffled myself. What was so funny? Had she been boob feeding the Little Boom a bit too strenuously and he had sucked out some of her actual brains?
The Good Lady caught herself and straightened up.
She reached a hand over and patted my stomach.
No no, Daddy-Bear. I mean as a participant. You know, to shift a few pounds?
She giggled slightly as if we were in Iran and had found a bag of figs.
To shift a few...? What?
Did she mean, I could lose a few pounds??!
Slowly, I inhaled a great snort of air in through my nose and lifted up the Iron Hand, readying myself, however regretfully, to administer justice.
The Good Lady gave my belly a shake and made a strange bubububububuuu noise with her lips.
I looked down at my belly, still rippling back and forth like a cut-rate tsunami and looked back up at the Good Lady.
So, you up for it?
She asked excitedly. Withdrawing her evil hand.
I looked back down at my belly. Was it still wobbling?
Fuck.
Aye, go on then.