As morning arrived on the planet Voretopia, the alien landscape was gradually illuminated by the gentle beams of light from the planet's star. The blueish grass and purple-leaved trees that dotted the Voretopian fields were bathed in the warm, cyan glow. The good-natured, dog-plant creature-things that inhabited the planet began to stir. Emerging from their dens, some stepped into the sunlight to generate energy while some stayed behind to tend to the pups. A small group of these creatures gathered various dessert items and junk food from their kitchens and loaded them into a large, macaroon-shaped plane. Boarding the vessel, they navigated through the Voretopian sky and happened upon a nearby field. 

In the center of said field sat what appeared to be a small, light-green mountain connected to two vats and resting on a large scale. However, a closer inspection would denote that this was no mountain: it was a massive, impossibly corpulent Irken Invader with one tube shoved in its mouth and another shoved up its rear. This creature wasn't just any average, everyday Irken, however; this horrible mound of adipose tissue was none other than the infamous Invader Zim. Once upon a time, he was one of the smallest, most incompetent Invaders in Irk's history. Because he not only failed his "mission" to take over the Earth and was found guilty of many different crimes, the Tallest fooled him by making him think he was to embark on a "super duper special mission" to this accursed planet. Unfortunately, over the course of two months, Zim's previously small, scrawny stature had ballooned to insane, unrealistic proportions (thanks to all of the junk food and desserts that were forced upon him by the Voretopian dedicens). His current appearance was a stark contrast to what he once was, having more rolls than the town bakery and such a blob-like physique that it was difficult to tell what some of his body parts were.

His hands and feet were completely engulfed by the layers of fat on his limbs, and said limbs grew to resemble two or three tires smushed together. His elbows and knees were no longer there, being buried underneath the nearly mile-thick layer of fat on his frame. Though Zim still maintained his cute antennas and even more adorable ruby-red eyes, his head barely poked out of the massive folds that consumed his neck and shoulders. His face was partially concealed by his massive, marshmallow-esc cheeks. His PAK was no longer visible, being devoured by the massive folds on his backside and hindquarters; the technology within said PAK couldn't possibly accommodate this ever-growing monstrosity. Most noticeable of all, his gargantuan gut and chest area extended far past his thick legs. His massive stomach gurgled and moaned as it worked overtime to process the junk that was forced upon it; this process led to the sorry sack's digestive tracts producing tons of noxious gas. Any sort of wriggling or writhing would cause his frame to wobble, which was a nauseating sight for onlookers. Essentially, Zim went from a small, eccentric Invader to a horrible, blubbery fuel production plant, being doomed to live out his days relegated to one spot and being almost completely immobile. A sad, miserable existence for a respectable "Invader", indeed.  

As the bright sunlight made contact with his eyelids, Zim began to stir, opening his bright red eyes and yawning. He stretched as far as his immense bulk would let him, and woke up just to see the long tube still in his mouth and being unable to stand up. "Please...my Tallest...relieve Ziiim of this nightmare...I detest this mission...." he silently pleaded. Alas, the Tallest were not around to hear him nor would they have cared. 

He glanced up to see the Voretopian plane delivering food to the vat. Zim looked in anguish as he prepared himself for yet another day of force-feeding and waste production. He was barely able to move as it was, so all he was able to do was sit on the scale and watch in discontent as the numbers displayed on the levitating screen gradually increased: 

"Current Mass: 3,500,000,000 lbs...3,500,000,001 lbs...3,500,000,002 lbs..."

"Fuel Output: 2,000,000,000 tons...2,000,000,001 tons...2,000,000,002 tons..." 

Zim's cheeks became a bright shade of pink upon seeing the increasing mass fuel output, and he perspired slightly out of sheer embarrassment. He moaned softly as the Voretopian plane dropped about a million tons of hyper-fattening slop into the vat, causing the pumps to activate. Zim groaned as the slop was forced down into his stomach, which protested and groaned as the process was under way. "Urrf...no more...please...I've had enough", he thought as he was forced to devour the abhorrent mix of high-calorie sweets, greasy food, junk, soda, and whatnot.

The filthy dog-creatures within the plane's cabin nodded their heads, and turned the plane back in the direction of their civilization to gather more junk food. Though the Voretopian dedicens tried their best to care for this annoying creature, they didn't seem to know that they were causing their beloved blubber bug extreme agony and discomfort. 

This force-feeding was not the end of the massive blob's daily torment. As Zim was forcibly stuffed with saturated fats and carbohydrates, he felt as if something rough was walking on him. He moped and whimpered softly as he saw a few of the Voretopian dedicens climb up his massive belly into his field of vision, their rough paw pads scraping and irritating his skin. While one of them stayed behind and began to gently knead Zim's gargantuan gut like a lump of dough, the other two approached his face and nestled themselves in the pillowly folds of his neck. The two dog aliens began to caress Zim's head and antennas, adding even more embarrassment to his current situation. "Please...get your filthy pawssss off meee", he thought as the dog aliens petted him. Though he tried to duck away, he could barely move his head due to how much blubber had accumilated on his neck. The one that was stroking his antennas began to speak to him:

"Good morning, sweetie! Did you sleep well?" it said in a sweet, sing-songy voice. 

Zim simply moaned and shook his head in response, perspiring heavily with sheer humiliation and slight annoyance in his eyes. The one that was caressing his head chimed in:

"Oh dear blubber bug! Why are you blushing so? Is it because we're giving you the attention and praise you love so much?" it said in a much softer (yet super sweet) voice. "By the way...It's almost time for your daily tummy massage!"

Upon hearing the phrase "daily tummy massage", Zim groaned in subtle annoyance. Aside from being stuffed like a giant Thanksgiving turkey and being astronomically flatulent, this was the part he disliked most. This "massage" only made more room for disgustingly sweet junk and made his huge gas predicament worse. Alas, Zim could not decline this treatment, as much as he desperately wished. The Voretopians were adamant on giving him the best pampering they could, feeling genuine affection towards this annoying creature. Even if he spoke up to them about how uncomfortable he was, they'd continue to care for him like they do with anyone else in this situation.

The two Voretopians that were nestled in the squishy folds then whistled, which attracted more of their kind. Though many of them stayed at his feet, many of the others climbed up Zim's immense gut. 

"No...no! Not the stomach or antennas...those areas are sensitive...", Zim attempted to say, but was muffled by the tube in his mouth and the slop being forced down his esophagus. The filthy, filthy dog creatures began to rub and massage his oversized marshmallow of a stomach, rubbing it in gentle circular motions then patting it as it wobbled profusely. Zim, of course, had never been so embarrassed! This was NOT the type of praise and respect he had in mind! 

"Please...stop...?" he thought as the Voretopians continued to flood him with affection. In that moment, Zim seemed to calm down quite a bit. He wiggled a bit and quietly moaned, though this time is was not a moan of agony. It was actually a moan of subtle pleasure. "Oh...ohhhhhh...that feels nice...." he thought as he began to quietly purr and emit little trills. 

It would seem to him that the Voretopians had hit what some would call a "tickle spot" on his tummy and antennas. Of course, the entire group of Voretopians took notice of this and tried to locate that special spot. When they did, these filthy dog creatures went to town, kneading Zim's pillowy dough and stroking the tips of his antennas. This seemed to send their beloved blubber bug into pure euphoria as he purred as loudly as possible. "Yessss...don't stop...keep going...." he thought as a slight smile began to form on his face and he closed his eyes. 

"Awww...do you like that, lovebug?" one of the Voretopians asked while stroking the tips of his antennas. Of course, Zim simply nodded and continued to purr, seeming to relax what little muscle was left in his body. 

After a while of these shennanigans, the Voretopians' beloved blubber bug slipped into a euphoric slumber, snoring softly yet still emitting subtle trills and purrs. Though many of the Voretopians left to take care of other business, some stayed with this massive mountain of Irken lard. His purrs gradually began to lull them all to sleep, and they proceeded to doze off whilst laying on his warm, soft tummy. For that moment, he didn't mind them there at all.

Perhaps this predicament wasn't as bad as Zim initially thought it was. Perhaps he could get accustomed to the Voretopian's care and affection, and maybe even grow to absolutely love this sort of praise and respect...........

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