Chapter 1: Introduction
The first thing one comes across in the wooded and lake decked town of Roundstag is a large sculpture of a group of deer. Cast in Bronze and seeming more at home at a Cabela's or Scheel's, it is a beautiful if strange piece, where three high flying does, bound with grace high over a brazen deadfall, while two obese bucks, most likely in reference to the name of the town, blunder clumsily through the underbrush. The bucks, however, majestic as they may be, were quiet bloated, the artist taking great pains to keep the bucks as fat and bloated as possible. Even more oddly, the bellies of both Bucks, round and swollen as they may be, had the top layer of bronze worked away, giving a much lighter, almost golden color to the swollen guts of the brazen bucks.
It was as if the artist had wanted to emphasize the fullness of the beasts, to draw the eye to their bellies. It was a heavy focus, almost fetishistic in nature, to display the obese deer in such a manner. Max looked at it with bemused interest as he slow drove past it to get to the residential area.
Max noticed more Statues, all of Minnesotan animals, Bears, Wolves, Cougars, sprinkled liberally through out the town. He also made note that roughly half of them, the male half presumably, were sculpted to be as round and bloated as the bucks on the foremost statue.
The other half, the females, were slim and lithe, their forms accentuated by the sculptor's artful hand. It was a peculiar sight, one that Max couldn't quite put his finger on. It was as if the town was celebrating the female form in all its dynamic glory, while the males displayed as lazy, gluttonous and slow.
The art was impressive to be sure, Max could almost imagine the statues, especially the sluggish males, coming to life.
He could almost see them lumbering through the streets, their bellies swaying with each step, their eyes glazed over with a dull stupor, searching for more food to grow their already massive stomachs. It was a strange thought, one that Max quickly pushed aside as he turned onto the quiet, tree-lined street where their new home was located.
Another though, more subtle in his mind, was the idea of becoming one of the fat, bloated animals of the forest.
He had always been a slender, athletic man, his body honed by years of running and swimming, his muscles lean and defined, however that had changed recently when he seriously sprianed his ankle while running. He had lost some of the tone he had, and he felt bloated and slow. Still, there was something about the idea of becoming a lumbering, hairy beast that appealed to him. It was a primal, almost animalistic desire, one that he couldn't quite explain. A beer bellied bigfoot, round and soft and strong and warm, a huge happy beast with his lovely wife by his side. He noticed in his revelries he was starting to get a half chub. he looked at his wife, who was distracted by the charming quaintness of the town to notice him, for which he was grateful for.
He shook his head, trying to clear the thought from his mind. He was getting ahead of himself. He and Sam had just moved to Roundstag, and they were still getting to know the town and its people. He couldn't let his imagination run away with him.
As they pulled up to the house, Max couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.
The house was a charming two-story with a wrap-around porch and a large backyard. It was the kind of house that Max had always dreamed of living in, and he couldn't wait to start making it their own. He pulled into the driveway, parking behind a large, black SUV. Sam had already unpacked a few things, and he could see her through the window, moving boxes around in the living room.
As he drove further into the town, the houses began to appear. They were charming, well-maintained, with a certain quaintness that seemed to be a hallmark of the town. The streets were clean, the lawns were manicured, and the air was filled with the tantalizing aroma of cooking.
Max could smell the sweet scent of baking bread wafting from a nearby bakery, and the sound of laughter and clinking glasses from the local tavern could be heard in the distance. Yet, there was an undercurrent of unease, a sense that something was not quite right. The town was too perfect, too pristine, as if it were a stage set for a play that had yet to begin.
Max parked the car in front of their new home, a charming two-story house with a wrap-around porch and a well-tended garden. Sam was already out of the car, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she looked around. "Isn't it wonderful, Max?" she said, her voice filled with enthusiasm.
Sam exited the Subaru and stretched her arms over her head, trying to work out the knot in her back that she had acquired with riding in the car from Milwaukee. North Central Minnesota, lovely as it was this time of year, was still a seven hour drive from their old home.
Max, despite his excitement for the new life they were about to embark on, was feeling the weariness of the journey. He stretched his arms, feeling the pop of his joints as he did so, and took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air. The leaves were just beginning to turn, the trees a riot of reds, oranges, and golds. It was a sight to behold, and one that Max had always loved.
"Come on, Max," Sam urged, her voice filled with impatience. "Let's go inside and see what our new home looks like."
Max followed Sam up the porch steps, his eyes scanning the house.
It was a charming place, with a certain old-world charm that he found appealing. The house was built in the early 1900s, with a certain quaintness that was becoming increasingly rare in modern architecture. The porch was wide and welcoming, with a swing at one end and a set of rocking chairs at the other. The garden was well-tended, with a variety of flowers and plants that Max couldn't quite identify. He made a mental note to ask Sam about them later.
As they entered the house, Max was struck by the sheer size of the place. The entryway was large and spacious, with a sweeping staircase leading up to the second floor.
The walls were adorned with an assortment of taxidermy, the once-living creatures now frozen in time, their glassy eyes staring blankly at the intruders. Max felt a shiver run down his spine as he looked at the lifeless forms, their frozen expressions almost human-like in their intensity.
"Sam," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "do you think it's a bit much?"
Sam, however, was already moving deeper into the house, her eyes wide with wonder. "Oh, Max, it's perfect," she breathed, her voice filled with awe. "It's like we've stepped back in time."
Max followed her, his unease growing with each step.
The house was filled with an odd, cloying scent, a mixture of old wood, dust, and something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was a scent that seemed to cling to the back of his throat, making it difficult to breathe.
The living room was large and dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn tight against the afternoon sun. The furniture was old and worn, the upholstery faded and threadbare. Yet, there was a certain comfort to it, a sense of history that Max couldn't quite shake.
Sam, however, seemed to love it. She ran her hands over the back of an old sofa, her eyes shining with excitement.
"I can just imagine us sitting here, watching the fire, reading books, and drinking hot chocolate," she said, her voice filled with a dreamy quality.
Max looked around the room, his eyes falling on a large, ornate mirror that hung over the fireplace. It was an old piece, the glass slightly warped, and the frame tarnished with age. He could see his reflection in it, but it was distorted, his face appearing misshapen. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but the image remained the same. If he had to say it looked like anything it looked like a swollen sasquatch.
"Sam," he said, his voice filled with unease, "do you see that?"
Sam turned to look at the mirror, her eyes widening in surprise. Max saw her quickly disguise her reaction and then play it off.
"Oh, that old thing? It's just a bit of a trick of the light, that's all. I'm sure it's just the way the glass is warped." She walked over to the mirror, her heels clicking on the wooden floor, and touched the glass lightly. "It's just an old piece, Max. I'm sure it'll be fine once we get it cleaned up."
Max hesitated, his unease growing. He could still see the distorted image of himself in the mirror, his reflection a bloated, hairy beast. He shook his head, trying to clear the image from his mind. "I don't know, Sam. There's something about this place that feels..."
"Minnesota Rustic." A low, blooming voice called from the entry way. Max spun around to see where the voice was coming from and his eyes widened. For the briefest of seconds, he thought saw Bigfoot.
He realized that it wasn't bigfoot, it was just a mountain of a man. 6'4", Muscular, big bellied and hairy, he strode in confidently.
His eyes were a piercing green, and his smile was wide and warm. He was dressed in a flannel shirt, buttons straining to contain his overfed gut, the sleeves rolled up to reveal thick, hairy forearms, and a pair of worn jeans, knees missing revealing muscular hairy legs, that hung low on his hips. He was a fusion of Seattle Grunge and Minnesota lumberjack, and Max couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the sheer size of the man.
He was like a human bear, a grizzly in human form, and Max couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the sight of him.
"Hello there," the man boomed, his voice like thunder. "I'm Jack, Ad rep, and local bigfoot impersonator. I live just down the street. I saw you pull up and thought I'd come over and welcome you to Roundstag."
Max hesitated for a moment before extending his hand. "Max," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Nice to meet you."
Jack's hand enveloped Max's, his grip firm and strong. Max could feel the power in the man's hand, the strength that lay just beneath the surface.
It was a strange sensation, one that both excited and unnerved him. He could feel the heat of the man's flesh, the rough texture of his skin, and the faint scent of sweat and something else, something almost animalistic.
"Nice to meet you too, Jack," Sam said, her voice filled with a warmth that Max had never heard before. She stepped forward, her hand outstretched, and Jack took it in his own, his smile widening as he did so.
Max watched as Sam's eyes flicked up and down Jack's form, a slight flush creeping into her cheeks. He felt a sudden pang of jealousy, a possessive urge to pull her away from the man, to claim her as his own. He was being ridiculous. Sam was his wife, and she loved him. She was just being friendly, that was all.
"Well, Jack," Sam said, her voice filled with a warmth that Max had never heard before. "It's very nice to meet you. We're so excited to be here in Roundstag.
It's such a charming little town, isn't it, Max?" Sam's voice was like honey, dripping with sweetness as she gazed up at Jack, her eyes sparkling with a fervor that Max had not seen before. He felt a twinge of unease, a gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach that he could not quite place.
Jack chuckled, a deep rumble that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house. "Why, thank you, Sam. We do try our best to keep it that way. It's a special place, Roundstag. Full of wonder. And great food." He ran his thick muscular hands over his large, soft gut.
"I'm always ready to share some of the best food this town has to offer. You should come by the bakery sometime. Elsie makes the most amazing pastries. You'll love them."
"What about Dinner foods? Tonight is our first night here, and I want it to be special." Sam asked.
"Well, we got the pizzeria, the burger joint, the Mexican place on 5th, but for your first special meal, I'd recommend the Lumberjack bar and grill over on Comstock street." Jack replied with a smile.
Max winced.
Max loved Sam, he really did, but he was afraid of her when she drank. Sober she was a lovely friendly woman, but drunk, she was aggressive and violent. She had harmed Max many times until she was got back on the wagon.
Max had tried to get her to stop drinking, but she had always refused, claiming that it was her one vice, her one way to unwind after a long day. Max had tried to be understanding, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread at the thought of her getting drunk again.
The low point, however, was when Sam hit Max so hard, she ruptured his spleen. He had to be rushed to the hospital. Max gave Sam an ultimatum: Lose the booze or lose him. She selected Max, and she had been sober for over three years. But he could always tell she longed to drink again. The lurking monster just inches away.
"That sound's lovely, doesn't it, max?" Sam asked happily. She tried not to think too much about her former addiction, and the flippant nature irked Max. Almost as if she pretended that it wasn't a problem, or that the issue had been once and forever resolved. Max elected not to make it a bigger issue than it needed to be.
"It does." Max said.
Jack laughed.
"Glad to help. Now if you excuse me, I've got some yard work to do." Jack said, turning around and leaving. Sam's jaw dropped when she saw him turn, his ass had to be four feet wide!
She couldn't help but stare, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of the man's massive, hairy posterior. It was a sight to behold, a testament to the man's robust nature. She felt a strange sensation in her stomach, a fluttering that she couldn't quite explain. She quickly turned away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
Max watched as Jack lumbered away, his massive form filling the doorway. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the sheer size of the man. He was a beast, a lumbering, hairy beast, and yet there was something almost majestic about him. Subtler, Max was envious, he kind of wanted to be that size.
He wanted to be a lumbering, hairy beast, a monster of a man. He wanted to be a beast, a big, hairy, fat beast. The thought of it sent a shiver down his spine, a primal, almost animalistic desire that he couldn't quite explain. Sam must have noticed Max's deep in thought.
"You want to look like that." Sam said, not as a question, but as an observation. Max's eyes widened and his face looked wracked with guilt and embarassment.
"Y-yeah..." Max said sheepishly.
"I mean, not like him, but... I don't know, just big and hairy and strong. Like a... a beast."
Sam's eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head to the side, studying Max with a curious expression. "A beast, huh? That's an interesting choice of words. You know, there's a certain... allure to that, isn't there? The raw, primal power of it all."
Max felt a blush creeping up his neck, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't believe he had just admitted that to Sam. He had never been one to talk about his desires, especially not with his wife.
"To be honest, I do love the whole beauty and the beast aspect of it, and I must admit that a large beer gut is quite... masculine..." Sam purred.
"You know, there's a certain... allure to that, isn't there? She stepped closer to Max, her eyes locked onto his. "I've always had a thing for big, hairy men. It's like they're so... primal, so... untamed. It's exciting."
Max felt a shiver run down his spine as Sam's words sank in. He had never heard her talk like this before, never seen this side of her. It was like she was a different person, a wild, untamed creature that he had never seen before.
"Sam," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.