A satellite floats through space, utterly weightless in the void.  It flies by a reddish-brown sphere, Purgatory. Orbiting a distant star in the Milky Way galaxy, it is a dry, rocky planet covered in sand, small oceans, and capped with two polar ice regions. Life is hard, but its colonists have eked out a humble existence on the frontier world through hard work and sheer tenacity. Their mining operations have enabled them to trade with other civilizations for valuable terraforming equipment, though their own technologies lag behind the rest of the system as most still live without electricity. Indeed, the inhabitants have learned to rely on themselves first. The rule of law falls short outside the big cities, where bandits roam undeterred; a backwater like this is a good place to get lost if one desires. Much to the ire of one intrepid deputy.

A cream coloured deer woman stands outside the local pharmacy, staring at the front cover of the Iron Alley Gazette. The morning sun hangs overhead, making the steel badge pinned to her khaki shirt twinkle like a star. The doe shakes her head in disgust as she scans the page: Bandits after your water! Reads the title. This was the work of Big Bertha, a towering bear with few scruples about breaking the law, and her Badwater Gang, ruthless thugs with a penchant for poisoning wells, destroying water purifiers, bootlegging alcohol, and public drunkenness. She had uncovered a lucrative rumrunning operation and was about to slap a pair of handcuffs on the villainess, but an anonymous tipoff gave the group ample time to burn the evidence and race off into the night. This time, however, was going to be different. This time, Bertha was going down, even if Jane had to haul her big butt to jail herself. She stuffs the newspaper back into the dispenser and marches to the sheriff’s station, her brown boots kicking up dust with each step. 

Meanwhile, an imposing blonde cow waits idly in her office, passively sipping her coffee; extra strong, black, no milk or cream. The wooden chair creaks under her plump butt. She doesn’t move as the door opens and Jane enters the room, her chocolate eyes half open. “Nice of you to drop by. I gotta job for ya.” The bovine announces, setting her mug down on a coaster. Sheriff Seattle pokes at some buttons on her desk.  The doe sits opposite and doffs her plain brown hat, placing it on her lap. The table face opens with an audible clunk to reveal a lens, projecting a map of blue light between the two, depicting the local area. A large reticule pulses over the newest settlement. “It’s a place called Tinysprings in the mountains. The area is littered with waterholes and aquifers. A miserable little place with a couple buildings. The locals are mostly farmers, they grow what they can and export the water they don’t use. They want some law presence there to handle disputes and keep the peace.  Top brass thinks the same, so they want us to set up a post there. Problem is, we’re shorthanded. That’s where you come in. Yer gonna go there and keep things calm, report back so we know what’s going on. Don’t play hero, cuz ah can’t send anyone to save your skinny little ass if things go wrong.” The deputy nods throughout, nervously straightening her little black tie. “You up fer all that?” Seattle asks with a raised eyebrow. “Yes, Sheriff! You can count on me!” She replies, brimming with enthusiasm. 

“All right. Get your stuff and report to Marty in the morning. He’ll take you there by ground speeder. Good luck.” The cow says before gulping down more coffee. With that, the Deputy dons her hat once more, her long ears poking out of holes cut in the top, and shakes the Sheriff’s hand, which she immediately regrets since it feels like a tank just ran over her knuckles. With that, she sets off to empty her locker. Seattle leans back in her chair and sighs. “You’re gonna need it.” before finishing her drink. 

Jane arrives late the next day. She waves goodbye but gets no response from Marty as he speeds away. “Always a charmer.” The deputy reaches into her coat and takes out a pair of green-tinted spectacles; standard issue night-vision glasses, courtesy of the department. The darkness is bathed in a sea of jade as she switches them on. Spinning on her heel, she makes her way into the settlement. Tiny was right. The town is made up of a handful of buildings: a general store, pharmacy, mechanic’s workshop, garage, metalsmith, hotel and one saloon. This place left a lot to be desired. No tents yet, they must be closer to the mine. “Not even a gunsmith. How do they protect themselves?” She mutters to no one in particular. The energy pistol dangling under her left arm did not feel so puny now. Tired from the bumpy ride over, Jane makes for the hotel. A bell rings out as she opens the front door. A desert rat man, in white shirt and black slacks held up by suspenders, sits behind a massive wooden desk. His beady black eyes look her up and down as she approaches.

“Can I help you?” He asks, suspicious. The deputy rolls up her sleeve revealing a bracelet that projects a document. It dictates that the bearer is entitled to free room and board for the duration of their stay. Granted by authority of the Purgatory Sheriff’s Department. Grumbling, he reluctantly accepts it and shows her to her room without another word. Sleep came slowly to the deer as the saloon opposite was alive with music, laughter and dancing that continued well into the night. The next morning, she wakes up, starving. Mrs Mouse was no kinder than her husband had been, serving what could generously be called food and made herself scarce as Jane planned her next move. Groggy from the night before, she will visit the saloon. With its loud music and raucous patrons, it violated a string of noise laws. Jane leaves through the main lobby, not saying a word as Mr Mouse reads his newspaper. Given the cold welcome from the night before, she did not want to stir their ire further. Out in the sun once more, the deputy dons her hat and moseys down the road. The town was hardly bustling, but not derelict either. The locals must be at work. 

Doe marches over to the saloon. A huge, surly hippopotamus watches as the girl approaches. “Hello, I’m-“ She starts up. “Members only.” The guard replies, pointing her stubby thumb at a sign in the window with the same message. “You don’t understand, I’m-“ She persists. “You best leave. Now.” The security woman declares, folding her arms over a white T-shirt that fails to cover her bulging stomach. “I see that, but this establishment is in violation of-“ The brute grasps Jane’s neck and lifts her up in a vice grip. Snatching her belt, the hippo stomps forward and tosses her into the dirt. Coughing up dust, she props herself up onto all fours. A pair of huge faux leather boots walk into her blurry vision, followed by legs the size of tree trunks wrapped in maroon pants, trailed by a flowing red duster. Blinking into focus, she realizes this could only be one-person, Big Bertha. The giant strides by the deer without a second thought. “Mornin’ Helga.” The bear greets in a smooth voice, doffing her dark red hat. “Boss.” As the deputy shakily stands up, the infamous outlaw disappears inside, and then behind a wall of grey-brown flesh. 

Jane dusts herself off, spins around and advances on the saloon once more. “I need to speak with that woman!” She demands. “You jus don’t learn.” Helga snarls, shifting her legs to a wide stance. “Stand aside! That woman is under arrest!” Ducking, she narrowly dodges the hippo’s left hook. The right swing throughs her off balance and she falls to her knees. Doe wastes no time and squeezes between the guard’s barrel-like legs. Just as she reaches its threshold, an immense weight lands on her back. Dust shoots up and the whole saloon shakes as the guard’s humongous rump crashes to earth like an asteroid. “Hmph! Weasel.” She grunts, glancing over her shoulder. The deputy squashed under her opponent’s gargantuan butt cheeks. Helga grinds the poor doe into a pancake against the hardwood floor; her haunches shaking side to side to the soundtrack of her prisoner’s anguished muffles. Standing up, Jane is stretched across her blue jeans like a bumper sticker. She reaches back and gives her titanic ass a slap, the soft flesh of her rump jiggling like jelly, meanwhile, Doe’s skin tingles from the strike. Laughing, the huge woman casually strolls outside. Rounding a corner, the Deputy bounces around as her captor’s rear bounces with each step. Stopping at a trash can, and she peels the deer off like a huge wad of gum with an audible schlorp. She cracks a smile looking over her handywork, before callously tossing her into the garbage, sealing it with a lid.

Soon after, a figure appears from the plains. Dressed in a mustard yellow poncho and a large brimmed straw hat, the turquoise gecko glances inside a trashcan. He pushes it over  and Jane flops out. Opening his coat, he reveals a small armoury of metallic energy weapons. Drawing the smallest pistol -an elliptical shape attached to a grip- he aims it at the woman. A pink laser shines out from its needle barrel. Doe’s body inflates like a balloon within moments. “Sorry fer shootin’ you. Hope you won’t use that against me in court, Sheriff.” The man chuckles, hoarsely. “I’m. A. Deputy.” She pants between gasps. “Tussling with Helga, huh? A tonne of fun that one. Literally.” The doe tries to mend her flat headgear by shaking it out; it pops back to its original shape within seconds . “I’m in the middle of an arrest, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish it.” She says, donning her cap. “May I suggest taking the back window?” He gestures to the corner behind him. With a raised eyebrow, she follows the stranger around the building. Indeed, a small pane of glass is ajar, sitting roughly eight feet above the ground. “Citizen, I may need your help with this.”

Jane balances on the gecko’s narrow shoulders while reaching up at the stone window ledge. Grasping the shelf, she hoists herself up to peek inside. A small room with plain beige walls. Looking over the ridge reveals a stainless-steel toilet and basin, with a small locker to its left. “Ugh. I’m not going in this way.” The doe groans. She glances over her shoulder, but the stranger is gone. Cursing, the deputy squeezes through the opening. Placing her hands on the back part of the commode, she swings her legs toward her back and performs a front-flip. Her boots land a foot or so in front of the device. She straightens up and makes for the door. Pushing it a few inches, she peeps out. A voluptuous elephant lies naked, save for a pair of dirty white socks, on the far side of the adjoining room. The roundness and fullness of their bare rump and flowing blue hair leaves little doubt that they are female. Luckily, she is facing away from the bathroom and fast asleep, as her loud snoring indicates. Doe carefully slides through the crack and tiptoes past the slumbering giantess. Two doors lies on opposite sides of the room. Kneeling down, Jane sees the leftmost entrance has a keyhole and peeks through. It reveals a short corridor and what could only be the inside of the saloon. Not wanting to risk another encounter with Helga, she decides to try the other door to her right. Too dark to see inside, she gently turns the knob, only for it to jam. Locked.

Rustling comes from the bunk, making Jane freeze, though, it is little more than harmless tossing and turning. Slowly, she scans the room until a goldish key, poking out of a huge pair of jeans on the floor, catches her eye. The girl cannot help but grimace at the underwear still inside them, they could certainly use a wash. Curiously, the name Emma is written on its waistband in blocky black letters. Swallowing, she bends down to retrieve it. A gust of hot air blows against the right side of her face. The deputy swings her head back and pinches her nose before another wet fart seeps out of the woman’s colossal butt like steam from a pressure valve. She turns green as the foul stink lingers. Squeezing her nostrils, the doe summons her courage and leans in again, snatching up the brass key from the tent that is the mammoth’s trousers. She spins around and undoes the lock with a slight clunk; carefully inching it open to suck in some much-needed  fresh air. The door creaks open to reveal a staircase ascending to the next floor. 

“Gotcha, varmint!” The elephant booms from behind, her massive arms coiled around Jane’s throat like a grey python. Jerking her captive into her chest, she spins around, and they crash onto the floor. “Thought you could sneak passed me, huh?!”  The titan yells. On her hands and knees, the Doe finds herself pinned under the huge woman; their heaving breasts brushing against her neck, their tree trunk-sized legs wrapped around her own. Starved of oxygen, she grasps her energy pistol, jamming it into the giantess’ right armpit. “AH!” She shouts, receiving a nasty zap. It was department policy for an officer to keep their sidearm on stun unless greater force was authorized. Safety first, of course. Emma loosens her grip for a split-second, just long enough for the deputy to slip out of her stranglehold. 

Jane scrambles leftward from under the elephant, only to receive a swift knee to the kidney, bashing the wind out of her. The force of the blow like a battering ram, it sends her toppling over, energy pistol falling from grasp. As she gasps for air, Emma spins around and wraps her titanic legs around her opponent’s neck. “Got ya, weasel!” Squeezing her colossal thighs tight, the doe flails around helplessly. Reaching back, she shoves Jane’s face between her mountainous ass cheeks. “Get a whiff of this.” An explosive fart explodes from her rear, deafening the poor doe and burning her nostrils. The girl’s vision darkens, between Emma squeezing her throat shut and her face buried deep in the giantess’ musky crack, she struggles to stay conscious. Hearting pounds in her ears, counting down the seconds like a referee before she passes out. 

The deputy slowly wakes up as she is bathed in a bright light. Her body splayed out on a strange hard surface. Running her hand along its face, it feels very rigid with few imperfections. A clear coating protecting it from harm. It is unlike any terrain she had seen before. Jane looks around, puzzled. “Where am I?” She wonders, cricking her neck. The doe finds herself surrounded by a transparent, cylindrical structure. Staggering to her feet, she bangs the top of her head on the odd substance. A faint ring echoes throughout the chamber. “What is this place…” The doe asks of no one in particular, rubbing her uncovered head. “And where’s my hat?”

“Good evening, Deputy.” A muffled voice booms from behind; spinning around, Jane sees a gargantuan claw flying toward her. She reaches for her gun, only to grasp at faux leather. Cursing, Jane dives to the floor. The hand plucks the crystalline structure between its thumb and forefinger, lifting  it up effortlessly. “It’s been a while.” The deputy looks up to see a huge pair of honey coloured eyes gazing down upon her. “Bertha!” She calls out. The colossal bear woman watches with a toothy grin. “What have you done?! Where am I?!” Her captive squeaks defiantly. “You really don’t know where you are? Why, you’re in my saloon, the Watering Hole! Some detective you are.” Bertha chuckles. “I thought you’d know that at least, you seemed so eager to get in here. Despite this being a private establishment. My security team have had their hands full keeping you out.” She informs the deputy, pouring herself some whiskey from a bottle the size of a water tower. It dawns on Jane that the transparent cell she woke up in was nothing more than a simple cup, a shot glass no less. “You shrank me?! Shrinking technology is illegal across Purgatory!” She accuses as the villain gulps down her liquor. Indeed, the doe stands no taller than a matchstick. “Oh? You mean this little thing?” The woman asks, feigning surprise as she opens her maroon duster to reveal a tiny metallic ray gun stuffed in her breast pocket.“Ya know, I always admired sheriffs. Bossing people around just because you’ve got a badge and a gun. That’s gotta be great. I woulda been one, but I play by my own rules. One of em is that I don’t like trespassers. Break that rule, and I gotta to punish you.” She says, unbuttoning her white shirt.

Bertha reaches over and plucks the deputy off of her desk.  Dangling her captive over her cleavage, she chuckles, the noise in her throat sounding like boulders grinding together. “You’re gonna be my bargaining chip fer the night, Deputy Dope.” Then, she parts her fingers. Jane screams, plummeting into the crevasse between the bear’s ample breasts. The atmosphere inside Bertha’s shirt is warm and thick, her natural earthy scent mixes with the musk of her sweating upper body. Light penetrates the white fabric, enveloping her surroundings a faint glow. Brushing along the woman’s wiry fur, she bounces to a stop on the giantess’ pink bra like a trampoline. The deer girl holds onto the rope-like threads of cotton as everything around her shakes violently, accompanied by intermittent booms. The micro ricochets off Bertha’s boobs as they jiggle, eventually crushing her entirely. “Stay still in there.” She orders, pressing her bosoms together.

Descending the stairs from her office, she arres at the saloon. The place is alive with laughter, the clinking of glasses and music from the piano. Bertha moseys over to a table at the back, occupied by Helga, as well as other seedy figures. She doffs her hat to reveal her punkish blonde hair; shaved on the sides, long on top and brushed to the right. “Deal me in, Eleanor.” The eagle nods as the others shift one seat to their left. The hippo gives up her spot so fast that her generous rear brushes the sandy blonde cougar beside her. A wiry specimen dressed head to paw in black clothes. “Watch it, fat ass!” She hisses, recoiling from her two-tonne rump. The bouncer merely grunts in response. Bertha drums her fingers on the table, scanning her opposition. She takes particular interest in the heavyset alligator woman directly opposite with her back to the wall, casually taking a flask out of her dark green coat and sipping it. “Care to share some uh that, Carol?” The reptile screws it shut and deposits it in her breast pocket. “Get your own.” A round goes by before Eleanor passes the bear a stack of poker chips and cards. She takes a peek, leaving the cards facedown on the felt. 

The rhythm of Bertha’s heartbeat surrounds Jane; the constant thump of the giant muscle resembling a deep sounding drum. Gazing up, she can see begin to creep in through the giant’s cleavage. The deputy wriggles around, but the bear’s wiry fur has her legs, torso and left arm tangled. She uses her free hand to uncoil the strands of hair, though, it will take time. 

“I raise!” Caroline calls out, tossing a handful of chips into the centre of the table. The hippo and cougar fall like dominoes. Bertha chuckles softly as the others eagerly await her response. They watch, silent, as she rifles around in her cleavage. “I call yer bet and raise you one Deputy.” The bear counters, smirking, her pointed nails poking out from under her captive’s  armpits. Setting the micro down, she meets the reptile’s gaze. Undeterred, Carol brushes the rest of her chips into the pot with a toothy grin. “All in.” The spectators glance at both sides as they stare each other down. Sensing her moment, Jane darts across the felt. All she can think of is getting away from these giants. She scarcely covers an inch before Bertha’s palm to strikes the table, crushing the poor girl. “Sorry ‘bout that. Deputies, are a damn nuisance.” Jane sticks to her paw pad like gum as she retracts her claw. Meanwhile, the alligator simply laughs at the scene unfolding before her. “Enuff circus tricks, let’s draw.” Flipping her cards over, she reveals a three-of-a-kind; a strong hand indeed.

Caroline roars with laughter once again as Bertha reveals her cards, a lowly pair. “I win! Come to Momma!” She rakes in her winnings, peeling Jane off the felt with a pop. “I’m out. And remember, the deputy don’t leave this table.” The eagle simply nods and shuffles the deck as her boss makes for the bar. Carol takes the micro between two poker chips and squishes her between them like a pressurised mould as Eagle deals another round. Prying them apart reveals a perfectly rounded deputy, her eyes rolling around in her flattened head, with indentations in her form left by the playing pieces. “And don’t think yer getting’ away from me!” Mocks the alligator, standing up. She tosses the tiny doe onto the chair, flicking her coattail out back to reveal her humongous rump squeezed into a pair of black pants. “No! Don-“ Her pleas are muffle as the giantess’ colossal derriere crashes onto the seat. The little air left inside her is squeezed out as her mountainous butt cheeks spread across cushion. She gasps, only to regret doing so as the stench of swamp ass makes her gag. Jane can feel her body trying to regain its form as it had earlier. Though, its effectiveness  is hampered by Caroline’s gargantuan ass, keeping her as flat as a penny, with only her head inflating slightly. Much to the tiny doe’s chagrin as her nose is forced deeper into the alligator’s ripe butt crack. 

Poker resumes for the titans, they move around, so that Helga now sits opposite the reptile; Eleanor serving as a small buffer between them. Caroline’s luck had ebbed and was nearly out of chips within a few rounds. All the while Jane struggles to stay conscious under the alligator’s enormous ass.  It is surprisingly warm and humid for a cold-blooded creature. The deputy feels her captor fidget in her seat, subtle to the normal world, but feeling like earthquakes to her as the woman’s mountainous grind against her soft form.  Indeed, the game above was heating up. She has a decent hand, though, her opponent was hard to gauge. Helga’s stone face expression mask her feelings perfectly and made reading her nearly impossible.

“Finally!” Jane thinks as Carol leans to the side, fresh air washing over her. Peeling her off the cushion, Caroline tosses her onto the felt. She casually plays with the deputy, flattening her against the table face until she resembles a square, then folding her into the shape of a triangle as a new round of cards a dealt. Reluctantly, the alligator peeks at her hand. She squeezes the micro between her thumb and forefinger as the cougar inevitably folds, and  the hippo raises. “All-in.” She grins, fangs on display, and they reveal their cards. Caroline’s single pair falls short of Helga’s double. “Gimme a target.” The reptile says, propping the deputy on the table like a paper football. Her opponent uses a few chips to make two short pillars, acting as a makeshift goal. Closing one eye, Carol takes aim and flicks the tiny so hard she sails over her opponent’s heads.

Screaming, Jane hurtles through the air and plummets to the hardwood floor. The tiny doe unfurls into a square upon impact. “Damn it, Carol!” The hippo curses. Her and Cassidy shoot up from their chairs and after the shrunken deputy. Jane’s body inflates to its natural form within a few seconds and as soon as her legs are sturdy enough, she dashes toward an empty table; any cover would surely help conceal her movements. Cassidy gets on her hands and knees to better scan the area. The micro scarcely covers a few inches before the feline snatches her up. “Got ya! You’re mine n-“ The words stop as Helga crushes the feline under her rump. “She’s mine, damn it!” Collapsing like a bundle of matches, the cougar hits the ground her grasp loosens, allowing Jane to jump out as her eyes spin inside her head. Rolling, she uses the momentum to recover and break into a run as Helga swats at her clumsily. 

Helga rolls off the flattened cougar and onto her stomach and starts crawling after the deputy, bashing a wooden chair out of her way. She clasps her hands around a tiny beige shape. Banging her head on the table, she curses and shuffles out from under it. Kneeling, the hippo grins as she opens her meaty paws, only for a moth to fly out. “Dang it! Keep looking!” Sprinting out from the furniture, Jane slowly makes her way to the entrance. Carefully, she darts from cover to cover, avoiding any giants that stomp by with such force they make the ground tremble. “I think I lost them.” The doe takes a quick breather at the final table, one occupied by a group of horse people, casually drinking and chatting among themselves. The micro woman narrowly avoids their huge feet, crashing down on the wood floor like hammers, as if Jane were a nail waiting to be struck into lumber. The constant movement feeling like a series of intermittent earthquakes, kicking up dirt and wafting the stink of their old shoes directly at her. This is hardly an atmosphere to catch one’s breath, with the smell, the threat of being squashed again and the choking dust that makes her gag. 

Jane sprints between the forest of horse legs and feet, aiming for the exit. The world brightens as she emerges from the shade cast by the table’s edge. Eleanor and Helga remain a few yards behind- what must seem like miles to Doe- feeling the ground like blind men. Glancing over her shoulder, she sees a gaunt figure draped in grey following her. Doubling her efforts, the deputy’s legs race faster than a jackrabbit’s but the titan closes is on top of her within a few strides. Closing in on the threshold, she can see the back of two huge black boots standing idle outside. Looking back a dusty sole hurtles towards her. She dives out of the way but falls short and is flattened under the giant’s foot with an audible crunch. 

Eleanor leans against the archway and peels Jane off her boot like a sticker. “Something wrong, El?” Emma asks, pushing the shutter doors open with each arm. It took Jane a few seconds to recognize who was asking the question as her eyes roll around in her head. Indeed, the elephant looks very different clothed, with her navy duster hide her curves very well, though the black T-shirt she is wearing does little to hide her ample bosom. “Nothing I can’t handle.” Nodding, Emma returns to her post and the shutters swing closed with a squeak. The eagle makes her way to the bar. Sidling up to her boss, she places Jane on the counter. “Ah! Elly! Ah can always count on you.” Bertha congratulates, depositing her bargaining chip into her coat pocket. “Tell Eleanor to meet me in my office, I’ve got a job for her.” 

Later that night, Cassidy the cougar races through the desert on her hoverbike, gliding over the sand without a trace. Dressed in her black jumpsuit, she blends into the night like a shadow. Dark blotches emerge on the horizon, growing taller until the bandit arrives at the outskirts of Iron Alley. The heads-up display projected onto the helmet’s visor estimated she would reach her destination within minutes. Meanwhile, Jane feels herself being flattened under the huge woman’s sweaty foot; encased in her faux-leather boot and being ground under the rocklike surface of her paw pad made the ride feel like an eternity. She could only tell they had come to a stop when everything stopped shaking, and Cassidy stomps her foot down to steady herself and her bike. Kicking the stand back, she throws her other leg over her ride and doffs her headgear, sandy blonde hair unfurling around her shoulders. Though, the top and her bangs remain comically flat against the feline’s skull. Her attire leaves little to the imagination, showing off her rounded hips and perky chest, with hard pads along her front and covering her bony parts. Cassidy produces a plain brown duster from her ride's saddlebags. Donning the coat, she takes a red bandana from its breast pocket and masks her mouth and nose before retrieving a large brimmed hat from the opposite side. Shaking the thing out, she doffs it and quickly strides through the streets to the sheriff’s station, all the while flattening Jane under her paw. She found it amusing how bouncy the shrunken deputy was, taking pleasure in how she oozed between her toes with each step. Arriving at a window, a quick glance shows no one is inside and the lights are off.

Fumbling in another pocket, Cassidy finds a thin metallic tool and picks the lock within seconds. Silently, she raises the glass pane up and climbs into the building. A floorboard creaks under her foot as she shifts her weight onto Jane, squeezing the air out of her. The cougar jumps back and tries the opposite side. Light bleeds in through the fogged window in the door opposite the window, displaying Sheriff Seatle along its pane. Carefully, she skulks over to peering through its keyhole. It appears the station is lightly staffed with only two officers on duty: a grey bobcat woman with black spots adorning her fur and a shaggy brown coyote man. It would seem they either did not hear, nor cared, about random floor creaks. Spinning around, the cougar tiptoes over to the desk and casually sits in Seatle’s chair. She chuckles softly, the sheriff was indeed a big lady, as the feline struggled to take up more than half of it. Reaching down, she undoes her boot and shakes it, only for Jane, still flat, to plop down onto the floor. Cassidy brings the tiny deputy up to her face. “Let this be a lesson. Don’t mess with the badwater gang.” She hisses. Then, she gets up and deposits the Jane on the vast expanse of the seat. Glancing at the table, a wry smile emerges on the cat’s face. She takes a strip of cello tape and rips it with one of her claws before sticking it to the micro. Jane struggles to move even as her body inflates, the sticky substance of the tape gluing her beneath the plastic strip. “Let’s see you get out of this one.” Cassidy grins before creeping out of the window and into the night. Try as she might, the deputy cannot seem to free herself from the gunk now covering her. All she can hope for is that Sheriff Seattle would arrive in the morning and look before she sits down. 

“Howdy.” Seattle greets upon entering the station. “Sheriff.” The pair respond in unison. “I take it nothing happened last night?” She asks, seemingly knowing the answer. “Nope. It was eerily quiet last night.” The coyote man replies, shaking his head. “Thank you, Marty. Well, I’ll be in my office if anybody needs me.” The cow lady bumps the door closed with her hip and tosses a newspaper onto her desk. Doffing her alabaster hat and duster on the adjacent rack. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Jane makes out the very tall, and very wide, figure. “H-Hey Sheriff! Sheriff Seattle! Down here!” Her calls are barely audible, sounding like a series of high-pitched squeaks. The bovine seems oblivious as she stomps over, making the chair, and the deputy, vibrate with each thunderous step. “Uh, Sheriff! I could use some help!” She implores once again, only to be greeted by the vast snowy mountains of her boss’ skirt clad rump. “Look down! Please just look down!” The doe screams, before the giant woman casually brings her enormous derriere crashing down on seat like an icy comet. Jane is lost under an avalanche of ass fat as the cow’s cheeks spill out across her and the wood, it screeches in response from the titanic weight thrust upon its surface. “Damn chair.” She grumbles, shuffling her sizeable bottom to meet the backrest. Seattle then unfurls her paper and begins scanning its contents. Wriggling side to side as her deputy, unbeknownst to her, digs into the soft flesh of her butt cheek like a pebble. “Not again.” Jane sighs.