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Silvio stood in front of his bedroom mirror, swearing under his breath. He desperately tugged at his tailored red silk shirt. But to no avail. The buttons simply refused to close over his middle.
“God… fucking… damnit!!” he finally shouted in frustration and threw the shirt to the floor.
“Sil?” Gabriella appeared in the doorway. “What’s with the swearing?”
“This fuckin’ shirt don’t close,” Silvio grumbled, slightly embarrassed.
Gabriella gave him a long, scrutinizing look and said: “Well, I’m not that surprised to be honest. Looks like you’ve put on a little weight, honey.”
Silvio glared at her, his bottom lip forming an even bigger pout than usual. Then, he let out a frustrated sigh.
“Guess I’m gonna have to pick a different outfit.” He started to comb through his closet for a looser shirt.
“Well, luckily you’ve got lots of options,” Gabriella remarked with a small smirk.
The BADA BING! was quiet during the day and Silvio busied himself with some paperwork in his office. But somehow, his thoughts kept drifting back to his too-small shirt.
He took a guilty look at the now empty McDonald’s bag he had gotten for his lunch break. He had devoured its generous contents in record time, and if he was honest, he was still a little hungry.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
Gabriella was right. He was getting fat. Silvio put his hand on his protruding stomach which sat heavily in his lap.
He frowned and squeezed the plush rolls of fat that had accumulated on his sides. This was simply unacceptable. He needed to make some changes and fast, before he’d grow out of all his suits.
Silvio groaned slightly. Going on a diet would be the only solution. But he already had a feeling that this was easier said than done…
As so often, Silvio spent his evening at Nuevo Vesuvio’s with Tony and the guys. This night, however, he wished he could’ve just gone home instead. Dinner at Artie Bucco’s restaurant certainly was not a great starting point for losing weight.
But he was willing to give it a try.
“Just a salad for me, Artie.”
“Listen to this guy, ‘just a salad’!” Tony shook his head in disbelief and chuckled, making the others chime in. “Nah, come on, Sil, take the manigot like me, it’s great!”
“Ain’t hungry.” Silvio shrugged, trying to sound determined and nonchalant at the same time.
Tony shot him an irritated look.
“What’d ya mean, you ain’t hungry? What da hell you talkin’ about? We’re havin’ dinner here. Come on, you startin’ to insult Artie now!”
He turned to Artie.
“Two manigot. And make it an extra-large portion for Sil here!” Tony briefly patted Silvio’s shoulder.
Artie nodded dutifully. Ralph, Paulie and Christopher grinned.
Silvio stared down at the table. Unfortunately, going against Tony was not an option for him.
Artie had apparently followed Tony’s instruction. When he served them their food, Silvio saw to his dismay that his portion was enormous.
“I ain’t gonna eat all that,” he complained weakly, staring at his overfull plate.
“Oh, stop your fucking whining! The fuck’s the matter with you today? Dig in, it’s delicious.” Tony was already shoveling food into his mouth, while watching him with an expression Silvio didn’t quite care for.
The others were looking expectantly at him as well. So, Silvio sighed, picked up his fork and began to eat. And he had to admit that the manicotti tasted really delicious.
Silvio finished his portion to the last bite. Not only because he could feel Tony’s watchful eyes on him, but also because it was surprisingly easy to go on eating once he had started.
“See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Tony said with a sly smirk. “Now, how about another dish?”
“No fucking way! I’m done, I’m really full,” Silvio grumbled.
“Come on, Sil. How about some ziti?” Tony suggested, a grin now spread over his face.
Silvio suddenly had the feeling that Tony was getting some sort of sadistic pleasure out of this.
“What is this?” he protested. “You trying to feed me up here?!”
Tony didn’t respond – but his grin got uglier.
“How about we make this more interesting,” Paulie chimed in. “Sil, I’ll give you two hundred bucks if you finish a portion of ziti plus a big dessert.”
The others laughed approvingly.
“Make it two desserts,” Ralph suggested.
Silvio glared at them. This was really getting out of hand.
Then again, his diet resolution was fucked anyway for this day, so he might as well earn some quick cash.
“Alright, fine, I’ll do it,” he finally said, even though part of him was hardly believing his own words.
The others erupted into cheers. Christopher slapped him on his back, while Tony signaled Artie to order for Silvio.
Already halfway through his giant portion of ziti, Silvio was silently cursing his decision. Beads of sweat started to form on his forehead and he was taking smaller and smaller bites. Only the thought of the two hundred dollars kept him going.
After he had finally managed to finish the ziti, he leaned back in his chair with a groan. He rubbed slow circles on his heavy stomach, trying to ease the growing pressure.
…and there was Artie, serving him panna cotta. Silvio felt like he was in a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.
“Go on, Sil,” Tony said with a mean grin.
Silvio glared at him but wearily picked up his spoon.
His stomach was really starting to protest against the masses of food now. Still, he somehow convinced himself to eat spoonful after spoonful of the creamy, sugary dessert.
Silvio could feel the others’ eyes on him. They were watching him intently, with amused but also slightly impressed looks on their faces.
The second dessert – a decadently large and heavy portion of tiramisu – seemed like an impossible task. Silvio’s stomach was swollen and aching. His once loose shirt was stretched taut over his middle and his waistband cut painfully into the soft flesh of his underbelly.
Tony’s eyes had been fixed on Silvio the whole time. He watched every single one of his bites like a hawk watching its prey. When Silvio looked up at Tony, he saw a hint of concern in his face – and something else he couldn’t quite name.
Silvio had never felt so full in his life. But he figured there was no point in giving up now. So, he somehow forced all of the tiramisu down his throat and then fell back into his chair, gingerly clutching his bulging stomach.
“Oh my god, he fucking did it!” Christopher exclaimed. “And look at his belly, all bloated!”
“Shut up, Chrissy!” Silvio snapped. He felt like he could shoot him.
“Ya happy now, ya cocksuckers?” he groaned, suppressing a burp. “Come on, give me the fucking money, Paulie.”
Paulie obliged and handed him the bills, not without some grumbling.
“Maron’, I never would’ve bet so much if I’d known this motherfucker could eat like there ain’t no tomorrow!" he complained.
Silvio took the money and slowly heaved himself to his feet, grunting with the effort. He just wanted to get away from them all.
“Sil, where ya goin’?” Tony asked, frowning slightly. Their eyes locked.
“Home. I feel sick,” Silvio replied curtly and lowered his gaze. There was still this strange look on Tony’s face – which, for whatever reason, sent shivers down his spine. Silvio turned around without another word.
Tony, Paulie, Christopher, and Ralph watched him leave, his steps sluggish and heavy.
“Oof, maron’, I never thought he’d actually go through with it,” Paulie said, both disbelief and admiration in his voice.
“I know, right? Poor Sil.” Tony shook his head, but there was still a malicious gleam in his eyes.
“You are home early.” Gabriella was watching TV, when Silvio shuffled into the living room.
He didn’t reply and slowly lowered himself onto the couch next to her, pressing a hand to his stomach. He unbuttoned his shirt and unzipped his pants, making his bloated belly expand even more.
“You okay, hon?” Gabriella asked, a concerned and puzzled look on her face.
“My stomach fucking hurts. I ate too much,” Silvio muttered and laid down on the couch, resting his head in Gabriella’s lap.
“Oh, honey.” Gabriella placed a hand on his protruding belly. It felt hard and incredibly full and heavy.
“Oh my god, Sil, you really overdid it, huh?!”
Silvio only groaned in response. Then, he shoved the dollar bills out of his shirt pocket. “For you.”
Gabriella looked at the money, and then back at her husband. “Maybe you should keep that to buy new clothes. At this rate, you’ll need some,” she teased.
“Please, Gab, no more comments about my weight, I can’t stand it, not today.” Silvio was surprised and ashamed to feel tears well up in his eyes.
Gabriella gave him a concerned look. “I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to hurt you. You know I love you just the way you are.”
She started to gently rub his stomach until Silvio, already drowsy from all the food, finally fell asleep.