“Oh my God, I can’t believe Stan actually blew the place up. Now we’re stuck in here,” Francine complained, leaning forward to rest her face moodily in her hands. “I’m gonna miss that fancy dinner because of him. I haven’t eaten all day because I was trying to save room!” Right on cue, her stomach gurgled with hunger, and she heaved a sigh, moving her hand to rub it, trying to soothe the hunger pangs. “My belly is running on empty…”
“Do /not/ talk to me about food right now,” Roberta sassed, arms folded angrily over her chest.
“Roberta, calm down. We’d all like to have some food in our bellies,” Donna said, giving her daughter a chastising look. “And I was looking forward to all that fancy food in my tummy just as much as anyone. You don’t hear /me/ complaining!”
Her stomach rumbled, and she placed a hand on it and looked away, a bit embarrassed.
“Yeah, that’s just cuz you have your stomach to do it for you.”
Donna smacked Roberta on the back of the head, then stood, her long, fancy gold dinner dress torn on the shoulder and up the leg from the falling debris. “Why did your dumbass husband go crazy anyway?”
“Yeah, and who just carries around sticks of dynamite?” Roberta chimed in.
Haley sighed. “My dad, unfortunately.” Her tummy growled, loud and proud for all to hear, and she moaned, cradling her gut and sucking in a breath. “Ugh, my stomach… I just /had/ to go and smoke pot first… Stupid munchies…”
Francine shook her head. “Ugh, I /told/ Stan to wait until after dinner to work, but noooo, he just /had/ to assassinate the bear and drag the fourteen year old in for questioning /right that very second/.” Her stomach rumbled again, and she moaned, turning around to bag her forehead against the wall as he hands pressed against her gut. “My belly wants foooood… Why. Is. He. So. Stupid?!”
“Wait, what? Why did he need to kill a bear?” Roberta asked, scowling.
Haley shrugged her shoulders. “Apparently he saw a video somewhere and became convinced that some bear in a shirt and tie was a terrorist or something.”
Donna scoffed. “Tim’s a lot of things, but he’s certainly no terrorist.”
“Yeah. Tim’s a wimp!” Roberta agreed, frowning again, brow furrowing as she remembered something, though it was hard to place her finger on it when her stomach wouldn’t stop complaining and begging for food. God, she could go for some shrimp right now… Or some barbecue ribs… It rumbled against just at the thought, and she rubbed it soothingly, trying to get it to quiet down so she could think. “My belly’s rumblin’ so loud! …Wait a minute… He saw a video that said Tim was a terrorist? What fourteen year old were you talking about? Was it Cleveland Junior? You know, the fat kid? Red shirt that doesn’t even fit him?”
Haley nodded her head. “Sounds like him.”
Roberta moaned. “Ugh! I’m gonna /kill/ Rallo when I get out of here. If he hadn’t been messing around with Cleveland Junior so much, Cleveland Junior wouldn’t have pulled that huge, elaborate prank just to get back at him, and I’d be stuffing my face and filling my gut with fancy seafood right now! How did that guy even find that video anyway?!”
“He borrowed some stuff from the CIA. Apparently he forgot to take the video off before he returned it,” Francine explained, splaying out spread eagle on the ground, her sparkling pink cocktail dress fanned out. Her gut gurgled beneath the thin fabric stretched over her smooth abdomen, and her hand moved to her belly, rubbing it. “My tummy’s so empty… Donna, do you have any food in your purse at all?”
“If I did, don’t you think I would have eaten it by now? My tummy’s just as empty as yours,” Donna said, giving the other woman a look before grumbling under her breath. “Dumb, blonde white bitch…”
“I still have some pot, but…” Haley’s belly growled, and she rubbed her hand over the sleek, velvety black fabric of her dress, letting out a sigh. “That’d probably only make the empty stomach problem worse once the munchies set it,” she pointed out, still rubbing her own, empty belly. “It might make us calmer though, so there’s that. I mean, we are trapped in a collapsed building. We need all the calm we can get.”
“Haley, you know I don’t normally approve-”
“You’ve /barely/ commented before.”
“-but, if we’re stuck here much longer, I /might/ have to take you up on that.” Francine’s stomach growled, and she sighed, rubbing it. “My tummy’s aching for food so badly I’m half tempted to eat my lipstick.”
Haley’s stomach soon joined it in its rumbling, and she rubbed it a bit more firmly. “/My/ tummy’s aching for food so badly I’m tempted to eat my hemp headband.”
Roberta’s belly gurgled, begging for food. She pressed her hand over it. “/My/ tummy’s aching for food so badly I’m tempted to eat my belt.”
Donna’s stomach let out a mighty roar, and she patted it, looking around at the fallen brick and wood and plaster that surrounded them. “Hell, /my/ tummy’s aching for food so badly I’m tempted to dig until I find some dead guy and eat his dead ass,” Donna said, putting her hands on her hips.
The others stared at her in horror.
“…What?! You guys think we’re the /only/ ones who were caught in that explosion? Our bellies are empty, and I ain’t gonna die here like this.”
“Everyone, calm down,” Haley said, moaning softly about her gut when it rumbled. She massaged her fingers into it. “Ah, my stomaaaach… Okay, okay, we’re not gonna die here, guys. Everyone’s gonna be fine, alright? It’s just a little setback. As stupid as our bumbling dads and husbands are, I’m sure this isn’t the first time.”
Roberta, Donna and Francine all nodded.
“We just gotta… wait it out.”
All the women sighed heavily, Donna sinking to the floor to lean back against the wall, while Haley sat with her knees up and Roberta laid curled up on her side, Francine staying right where she was on the ground, with her hands over her stomach.
“Maaaaan, I can’t stop thinking about food,” Roberta complained, rubbing a hand over her rumbling belly. Her green cocktail dress hand a belly window that made it easy for her to rub it directly, and she could feel the rumbling all too easily through the soft, supple flesh. “My belly’s achin’…”
“Well maybe if you quit your bellyachin’…” Donna grumbled.
“Oh please, like you’re any better!”
Francine sighed heavily, her stomach grumbling and demanding her attention. She rubbed her tummy through the thin, shimmering pink material of her dress, pressing her hand firmly into it. “Ohhh, my gut is getting so loud I can barely hear myself /think/. I mean, I know my thoughts aren’t very loud to begin with, but this is just ridiculous! I hope Stan and Cleveland get here and rescue us soon. I want to eat!”
“Please, Mom, it’s dad. Remember the time he /harpooned/ you?”
Donna raised an eyebrow. But, she didn’t have time to be skeptical of Stan’s sanity for long, because her tummy rumbled, and she patted a hand against it, letting her head fall back against the wall. “Ugh, my belly hasn’t ached /this/ bad since I gave birth to Rallo… I’m so hungry… Alright, so Stan’s crazy, Cleveland’s useless… How we gonna get outta here?”
Haley’s stomach rumbled with sympathy as soon as she heard Donna’s, and she fidgeted, pressing her arms between her legs and her belly. “I’m so hungry… My stomach feels like a black hole, ready to devour anything that gets near it…”
Roberta raised her eyebrows. “Wow, you /are/ stoned.”
The younger Smith girl shrugged her shoulders. “Anyway, we could try digging again.” Her tummy gurgled again, and she pressed her hand against it, trying to silence the noise, before rubbing it soothingly. “Though, my belly’s so empty that I’m probably too weak to do /too/ much digging… But if it’s our only real way out, it’s worth a shot.”
“Aww, but Haley, I just got my nails done…” Francine complained, frowning down at the pretty, sparkly pink polish.
Roberta folded her arms over her ample chest. “I just got my hair done.”
“Yeah, but you’re not using your hair to dig.”
“So? It still has dust and dirt all in it now.” Roberta’s belly growled so hard that she doubled over, cradling her arms against it. Her hands massaged the soft, hungry flesh through her belly window. “Maaan, I’m so hungry… My stomach feels like it’s going to start eating itself or something, it’s so hungry… I mean, did you guys hear that?”
“Yeah, we /all/ heard that,” Donna confirmed, giving her daughter a grumpy look, not needing to be reminded of how hungry she was. She groaned irritably when her gut grumbled right along with her, voicing its own discontent. She rubbed it firmly, the soft flesh giving beneath the pressure of her palm and fingertips, so that she could feel the vibrations her rumbling stomach made. “Look, my tummy feels like it’s gonna cave in on itself, so I’m gonna go ahead and start trying to dig my way outta here regardless of whether it makes the /building/ cave in on me or not, and if you all wanna get outta here and fill your tummies too, I /suggest/ you all suck it up and dig with me!”
She threw herself into her work of digging away the rubble, but the other women, too hungry, weak and dispirited at the moment, just sort of watched her.
After a minute though, Haley’s tummy growled again, and she moaned softly, moving a hand to her stomach, patting it and looking down at it, a thoughtful look on her face. “My belly’s so empty… I know it’s supposed to take, like, two weeks before you die of hunger, but… it really doesn’t feel like I’d last that long…” And, while this concerned her, and while she knew that water was actually the more important resource, since you’d die after only about three days without water, her empty stomach was too much motivation, and with a sigh, she got up and joined Donna in her digging, though not with as much passion, aggression or reckless abandon as the other woman.
Roberta moved to sit by Francine, the two of them watching the other two work.
Francine’s belly rumbled, and she crooned, rubbing her hands in large circular motions to cover as much surface as she could. “Man, my tummy aches so bad… I think it’s cramping. I’m so hungry that I’m starting to get a little dizzy…”
The younger girl’s stomach didn’t take long to chorus in, the gurgling loud, vibrating throughout her middle. It felt like it would go on forever. She pressed a hand over it, patting gently. “Maaan, I’m right there with you… My belly needs /something/ and I am seriously tempted to take my belt off and chew on it to /give/ it that something. And it was an expensive belt too!”
Francine’s gut growled again. She patted her own belly, sighing. “Even a /belt’s/ making me hungry… It’s not even real food!”
“No, but it’s leather. That’s close enough,” Roberta reasoned. Her stomach gurgled needily, and she caressed a hand over it, her middle finger idly circling around her belly button as she considered. “Alright tummy, alright, I hear you… We’ll get you food soon,” she said, not caring if she was lying to it or not but hoping that it was the truth. Then, after another few seconds, she unlatched her gold, leather belt and started chewing on it. Though she knew she couldn’t actually eat it, it was comforting to have something at least sorta food-like in her mouth.
Francine pouted. “I wish /I/ had a belt…” Her tummy growled jealously, and she couldn’t help staring at the fashionable accessory turned object of desire as she rubbed her belly, practically salivating just watching Roberta’s teeth grind against the leather. “You’re making my belly jealous… Can you at least share?”
“Get your own belt!”
The blonde woman could no longer take the rumbling in her tummy, and after pressing her hand into her gut and closing her eyes for a moment at the unbearable urgency, she tackled Roberta to the ground. “My belly needs that belt!”
Roberta screamed. “Get off of me, you crazy bitch! It’s my belt! Get your own!”
“I don’t have a belt!” Francine screamed back, grabbing Roberta by the hair and trying to snatch hold of the belt.
The younger girl was having none of that though and after screaming and struggling for a few more seconds, she delivered a kick to Francine’s gut, knocking the woman off of her. Then, as soon as she was free, she scrambled away, breathing hard. Her stomach growled again, now even hungrier and needier from the energy she’d just spent getting away, and she moaned, rubbing her belly and placing the belt back between her teeth. “Damn, my belly wants food,” she muttered through her clenched teeth, closing her eyes and resting her head back against the wall. “I’d make a salad that was all just croutons and dressing…”
Francine moaned, her stomach making noises from both hunger and pain now, making her hold it with her arm, her hand squeezing at her side. “Ahh, /bitch/… My tummy aches even /more/ now…”
“Well that’s what you get!”
“Pain in the gut is what you are!”
“Alight, enough!” Donna yelled, taking a time out from her digging to turn and glare at the two non-diggers. “You two are fighting over a belt for crying out loud!” Her stomach grumbled, and she sighed irritably, rocking it in her arms. “My belly’s achin’ for food too, but I’m actually /doing/ something about it!”
Haley lifted her head, frowning at all the violence and aggression. “Guys, I seriously think we might wanna smoke that pot.”
The group fell silent, considering this.
Francine was the first to cave. Her stomach was rumbling and aching something fierce, and she was so hungry and tired and frustrated that she was ready to try just about anything. She rubbed her tummy. “Alright, I think my belly will take /anything/ at this point… Throw me a joint, will ya?”
Roberta was next. The belt just wasn’t doing it well enough. “Alright, me too,” she said, her own belly growling loudly. She drummed her fingers against it, rubbing with her thumb. “My gut is desperate. Besides, maybe it’ll at least make it a /little/ more fun to be trapped in this dirty hole with my mom, some crazy blonde bitch and a stoner chick if we /all/ get stoned.” She held out her hand, and Haley tossed her a joint too.
Finally, Donna hung her head, her shoulders sagging. Her stomach was rumbling angrily, in such a way that she felt like, if it had been a human being or an animal, it would be snarling and gnashing its teeth. She rubbed a hand over her belly, heaving a heavy sigh. “Ugh, my belly’s driving me crazy with this stupid hunger… Yeah, yeah, throw me one too…”
Haley finished passing out the joints and then, after lighting everyone up, she sat down with one for herself, lit it up and sucked in a deep breath, holding it and letting it out in a smoky sigh.
Her tummy rumbled, not liking being teased with flavor it couldn’t have and devour, but she did feel a little calmer. She patted her belly, taking another drag from the joint. “God, my belly is /so/ empty right now… I could really go for some Sun Chips right now.”
“Forget Sun Chips,” Francine said, taking a drag from her own joint. “Funyuns is where it’s at.” Her stomach growled loudly at the mention of the delicious, onion flavored treats, and she patted her stomach a bit before rubbing her hand slowly over her belly. “God, my belly could really use some Funyuns right about now… I would just, eat them until I exploded. Exploded into a happy, delicious, Funyunny mess…”
Donna nodded her head. “Oh yeah, I gotta get me some Funyuns when I get outta this mess,” she said, leaning back against the wall. Her dress was just as much a mess as the situation she was in, after all that digging. And /with/ all that digging, she’d worked up even /more/ of an appetite.
Her stomach practically roared, and she whined, rubbing a hand over it. “My tummy /needs/ those Funyuns! Cleveland, you better get your ass here soon and dig me outta this…”
“Please, like that dumbass husband of yours is gonna get us outta here,” Roberta snarked, pretending that her joint was a cigarette so she could be like a cool rebel chick instead of some hippy stoner. Her gut gurgled so powerfully that she could feel all the way up to her ribcage, and she moaned, rubbing a hand over her stomach. “Forget that small stuff, my tummy needs some barbecue ribs! That shit is le/git/!” she declared, practically drooling just thinking about getting out of this place and eating some barbecue ribs. She was gonna be licking that barbecue sauce off the plate and then chew on the bones! Not a single /scrap/ was gonna be wasted when she got her hands on those ribs.
Donna groaned, dragging herself back to her feet. “F*ck you all, I’m gonna keep digging,” she said, walking back to the dent in the rubble she started. Her tummy rumbled, and she rubbed it, sighing. “It’s okay, belly. Mama’s gonna get you outta here and get you some food soon, promise,” she said, trying to move as many rocks as she could, as quickly as she could.
Haley sighed heavily. Her insides rumbled, and she kneaded the soft flesh of her belly, biting her lower lip and staring up at the ceiling. “My stomach’s just so empty… It feels like I’m gonna go crazy with hunger.”
Her mother moaned, curling up on her side. Her belly growled, and she half expected the pebbles on the ground nearby to start shaking it reverberated so strongly through her body, like the water glass in Jurassic Park when the T-rex came or something. She hugged her arms to her paunch, pressing her hands into either side of it. “My belly’s so hungry I feel like I could eat a whole horse, just by myself,” she said, staring miserably at the ground. “It might not even have to be cooked first. I’d just swallow it whole, like a snake.”
“Fur and all?”
“Fur and all.”
Roberta scoffed. “That’s nasty.” Her own tummy rumbled not long after though, calling out loudly for food. She dragged her hands in slow, firm circles over it. “My belly is cryin’ for food… I don’t know how much longer I can stand being in here before I turn to some cannibal bullshit or something.”
“And yet swallowing a horse whole is nasty,” Donna couldn’t help but comment, pausing in her work to give her daughter a moody look. Her growling, achy belly reminded her how empty it was, and she stopped to rub a hand over it before groaning and returning to shifting through the rocks, panting for air and sweating at all the exertion needed to move and work like that when her poor belly was running on empty like it was. “Look, my tummy’s just as achy and hungry as all y’all’s, but nobody’s gonna be eatin’ anybody, alright?” she declared, deciding that, if somebody had to lay down the law, it might as well be her.
Especially if that law involved cannibalism.
“I was just jokin’!”
Haley laid down on her back, legs drawn up and eyes closed, trying to drown out the loud, idiotic talk of the people around her, as well as the equally loud growling of her stomach. She patted a hand against the soft paunch of her belly, imagining all the different foods she’d eat as soon as she got out of this living nightmare of hunger. “I can’t wait to get out of here and get some food in my belly…” she said aloud, images of pie and sugary tarts dancing behind her closed eyelids and making her mouth water, her stomach crying out at the teasing imagery. “God, I want poptarts… The strawberry kind, with plenty of frosting… Ohh, or some toaster strudel… Either strawberry or apple…”
Roberta whined when her stomach cried out for the foods Haley described, her hands pressing into her belly. “Cut it out! You’re making my tummy jealous! It wants those poptarts now too!”
“Warm, flaky toaster strudel…”
Francine wanted to cry she was so hungry. Her belly gurgled, trying to ready itself for toaster strudel that wasn’t coming. The blonde woman rubbed her stomach again, sighing. “God, I want some toaster strudel in my belly… What are you going to draw on it with the icing? I think you should draw a cute little bunny, or maybe a little fish, like Klaus.”
“I want this toaster strudel so bad that I think I might just draw a toaster strudel on the toaster strudel…”
“That’s stupid,” Roberta said, giving the other young woman a critical look. “You’re stupid.”
“No no, it’s genius,” Francine corrected, her stomach rumbling as she imagined the warm, flaky, toaster strudel inside of it. She rubbed her belly again, sighing. “Some apple pie in my belly would be nice too… With a little bit of vanilla ice cream on top, you know? Doesn’t that have a fancy French name?”
Haley moaned. “Apple pie ala mode…” Her tummy growled at the new image it was presented with, desperate to fill itself with some delicious, warm, baked apple pie and sweet, sweet ice cream now. She patted it, wishing that she could be patting it because it was full and content and happy instead of empty and desperate and wanting. “God, I’m just… I’m so hungry… I can practically taste that ice cream, slowly melting over the heat of the pie, and those warm, cinnamonny apples… I could just eat that all day. I’d eat until my stomach was full to bursting.”
Roberta was quiet for a few seconds before quietly asking. “…What about chocolate lava cake?”
Simultaneously, every woman moaned, their bellies moaning right along with them. They all rubbed their stomachs, letting out a collective sigh.
“My belly is so empty…” Haley said, eyes still shut.
“Yeah… it’s aching for food like crazy… It feels like it’s crying out for me to feed it, you know?” Francine said, rubbing her tummy again. “It’s like being pregnant all over again, but without the morning sickness and the fat.”
Donna ‘mmhmm’ed, nodding her head. “I feel ya. Though, my stomach’s so empty and hungry that I actually do feel just a little nauseous. I think I’m more dizzy than anything though. Been stressed and workin’ too hard.”
“Mama, you should sit down and take a break,” Roberta said, patting the ground.
“I don’t /want/ to take a break though. I want to get the hell out of here and get me some food in my belly,” Donna retorted, giving the walls trapping them there an irritated look, as though they themselves were responsible, and not the man who’d blown them up. “Seriously, what is /taking/ so long? They should have called someone and had a rescue team here digging and looking for us by now!”
“I bet they went out for sandwiches or something…” Roberta grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and giving the walls an irritated look of her own.
Francine’s tummy growled at the mention of sandwiches, and she rubbed it, unable to help wondering what kind they were. Cold cuts? BLTs? Meatball subs? Egg salad? Ohhh, she wanted a sandwich… She bet they had those cute little finger sandwiches at the fancy dinner… “I don’t think my stomach is every going to stop growling, I’m so hungry… I’m gonna kill them if they went to that fancy dinner without us.”
Haley sighed. “Knowing Dad, that’s probably exactly what they’re doing. It wouldn’t be the first time he abandoned us to go to somewhere we’d all been looking forward to by himself.”
Donna groaned, slapping a hand over her face in exasperation. “Cleveland too…” Her stomach rumbled jealously at the thought of Cleveland off eating by himself at that dinner, stuffing his face with all that fancy seafood, and the ribs that Roberta hadn’t been able to shut up about before. She moaned, rubbing a hand firmly over her aching, growling belly, patting it. “It’s okay, tummy… If he /is/ eating instead of getting you some food, Mama promises she’ll kill him,” she consoled it, closing her eyes and sighing her frustrations. “For his /own/ sake, he better hope that’s not what he’s doing.”
Roberta nodded. “Yeah, that’d be messed up, leaving your wife and step-daughter to die of starvation while you feed your fat, stupid face.
“…Why am I suddenly craving cheesecake..?” Haley asked, her eyes narrowing in a slightly stoned daze at the opposite wall. Her tummy gurgled at the thought of it, all sweet and creamy and drizzled in strawberry and chocolate sauce… She rubbed it, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the wall, lips parting to breathe as she continued to fantasize. “Mmm… I want that in my belly so bad right now…”
“Haleeeeey,” Francine whined, her own stomach gurgling in response. She pressed her hands against her paunch. “Stop teasing my poor stomach! I didn’t raise you to be a sadist!”
“I’m not trying to be a sadist. I’m doing this for my own stomach, not yours.”
If anything, that would make her a masochist.
Haley took a deep breath, closing her eyes again to daydream. Her belly rumbled, hungry, empty, wanting to be filled, and she massaged her fingers into it as she dreamed of things to fill it with. “You know what else would feel great in my tummy? Mashed potatoes. Just… nice, hearty, creamy mashed potatoes, loaded with gravy and corn and cheese… Maybe some bacon bits, or little pieces of fried chicken…”
Roberta moaned, her poor, empty stomach crying out for the food Haley described. She pressed a hand against her midriff, closing her eyes. “Ohhh, my belly wants that toooo… My belly /needs/ that…”
The two older women nodded their heads in sad, hungry agreement.
Francine’s stomach rumbled, and she cradled her belly in her arms, hitting the back of her head gently against the wall. “Mine toooo… Tummy needs food so bad! God, I wouldn’t even /pretend/ to enjoy salad, no matter how handsome the guys there or how bitchy and catty the girls there were, unless it was all fried chicken or… or… like, a pizza salad, or something! And- ohhhh, I could /really/ go for some fettuccini alfredo…”
“Mmmm…” Haley’s insides practically purred, and she petted her tummy, happily dreaming away about the creamy pasta. “My belly likes that too… What about chicken parmesan?”
Donna was slowly being tortured by all the delicious sounding foods. Just /thinking/ about all the wonderful things she could not have was teasing her poor tummy, making it gurgle, whimpering for food. She rubbed her hands over it, having to sit down for a moment. “My stomach feels like it’s just going to wither away and die, and you two are not helping! You’re teasing it!”
“I’m doing what I have to do to stay sane,” Haley argued, turning her head to give the woman a pointed look, too stoned and too hungry to really muster up any real anger. Her tummy growled, and she patted a hand over it, closing her eyes again. “I mean… my poor belly’s gonna be empty either way. I can either focus on how hungry I am right now, or I can imagine all the great food I’m eventually going to get to eat. I mean, yeah, I’m teasing my poor belly doing that-”
“Yours and mine both!”
“-but at least I’m thinking of something positive. It’s a /little/ better than focusing on the miserable part. Nothing wrong with fantasizing. …Well, I mean, as long as you’re not listening to the Catholic Church or anything.”
Donna and her tummy both grumbled, seeing Haley’s point, and she folded her arms over her stomach, massaging her fingertips into the soft, but hollow flesh. “My belly’s just so hungry… All I wanna do is get outta here. I wanna /do/ something, not sit around and fantasize about food while I wait for someone else to come and rescue me! Don’t get me wrong, I like being rescued just as much as any other woman, but… I do /not/ trust those men to come rescue us.”
“I don’t either,” Haley admitted, tilting her head back to look up at the dark, caved-in ceiling, longing to see sunlight again. “But, you’ve been digging really hard, and I dug for a little while too, before I just got too dizzy for it, and we haven’t even gotten any sunlight to break through in here or anything. It would be great if we had a shovel or something, but… unfortunately, we were trapped in this Bed and Breakfast Dad had you guys staying at, and not a hardware store, so…”
Donna’s stomach rumbled again, prompting her to rub it. “Bed and breakfast my ass… There’s no breakfast in my tummy…”
Roberta gave her mother a look. “Well maybe if you hadn’t been all ‘let’s not eat anything all day so we can work up an appetite for dinner,’ we /would/ have some kind of breakfast in our tummies…”
“Please, like stupid discount cereal and bagels would have been really all that filling anyway.”
Francine gave the two an apologetic look. “I was going to make you guys some muffins, but then Stan insisted that I not with something about mama birds pushing baby birds out of the nest so they can fly on their own or something stupid like that, and then when I made them anyway, my family- well, not Haley, just the guys- ended up eating them all before I could bring them over,” she explained. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of those sweet, moist, crisp, delicious muffins… She groaned and patted her belly. “I wish I’d snagged a couple of them myself now… My tummy would give anything to be filled with muffins right now…”
Donna heaved a heavy sigh, her stomach rumbling sympathetically right along with Francine’s. She likewise patted it, leaning her temple against the wall. “My tummy would give anything to be filled with muffins right now too… I’d be mad, but, honestly, I probably wouldn’t have wanted to eat them anyway because I was saving room for dinner…”
“What kind of muffins were they?” Roberta asked, unsure whether she really should or not.
“I was gonna make banana nut, but then I got worried that someone might be allergic to nuts and just went with blueberry, since everyone seems to like a good, blueberry muffin,” Francine replied.
Roberta’s tummy growled, craving those blueberry muffins like her lungs craved oxygen itself. She rubbed her hands against her belly window, closing her eyes and moaning. “Maaan, those would have been delicious… My tummy wants those blueberry muffins so bad… But, Mama’s right. We’ve been fasting all day. I don’t know how those people who fast for like, Ramadan and shit do it.”
“A lot of commitment,” Haley answered. “I wish I would have snagged a muffin when I’d had the chance…”
Francine’s belly gurgled for food, whether it be sweet, sweet muffins or seafood or even just tacos or… just anything, really, and she leaned against the wall, sliding her heel off and batting it listlessly against the floor with one hand while the other hand rubbed her stomach. “My tummy wishes that I was one of those women that just like, always carried candy, or granola bars around in my purse… I’ve made fun of those women before, but, you know, they’re the smart ones.”
Haley whimpered at the heavy wave of hunger that hit her at the mention of the word ‘granola,’ her stomach growling hard. She pressed her hands against her paunch, trying to calm her insides. “God, you know, as much as I’ve eaten it to the point of getting tired of it… I could really, /really/ go for some granola right now…”
“Not me,” Roberta said, crossing her arms over her ample chest. “I mean, I’d eat it if it were here, but I at least want some trail mix or something. That shit’s got nuts /and/ berries in it!”
Francine’s stomach growled again, and she rubbed it a little harder. “God, now my tummy wants those blueberry muffins again… Oh oh! Or strawberry cheesecake! Strawberry anything! My tummy wants it so baaaaad…” she whined, taking her other heel off and just sort of throwing it at the opposite wall in frustration.
Donna took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way her stomach rumbled pitifully inside of her, so empty that the growls were reverberating off the walls. She massaged it with her hand. “My belly needs food something fierce guys… If I don’t make it, promise me that one of you will slap Cleveland for me if you do?” She prayed to God that, by some miracle, their husbands were actually out there looking for them and not being totally selfish fatasses like Cleveland usually was and, like she assumed, Stan probably usually was too. But… it was better to be safe than sorry.
Francine nodded her head in solemn agreement. “Same for me and Stan.”
“You got it. I wanna slap the shit outta that man anyway.”
“Come on, guys,” Haley tried to reason, even as her own poor, growling, empty tummy longed for revenge. Revenge and food. Sweet, sweet revenge and food. She rubbed it soothingly. “My belly wants food too, but… I’m sure we’ll get out of here, okay..?”
Just then, some rubble fell from the walls around them, and then a light shone down, and they heard a voice call out.
“Stan!” the blonde woman called back, eyes widening as she hopped to her feet, hurrying over to the spot. “Stan, we’re in here!”
“Donna! Donna, are you in there too?!” Cleveland’s voice rang out, and the black woman sighed with relief.
She rushed over to where she could hear the voice coming from to sift through the fallen debris there as well, wanting to get to them as soon as possible so she could eat. “Yeah! Hurry up and get us out of here! We’re starving!”
Haley’s tummy gurgled loudly, and she stood, cradling and arm against it and rubbing it as she hurried over to join her mother and Donna. “Yeah, seriously. I don’t think my belly would have lasted too much longer. It feels like it’s dying.”
With the men working on the outside, and the women working on the inside, it didn’t take long at all before, finally, they were freed. Sweet, /sweet/ freedom… with a side of cocktail sauce.
They all decided to forgive and forget, because food was just so much more important. The men tried to add the aspect of togetherness, but the women knew the truth, and they knew what they wanted. They stuffed their faces with vigor when they got to the dinner, not caring about their ripped and dirtied dresses, and how utterly undainty and dignified they looked to the people around them, and their husbands didn’t care much either, taking it as an invitation to laugh and do the same, especially when the double decker chocolate cake came out.
Freedom had never tasted so sweet.