The Sumo Strongmon
By FatalCalamityz


Tonight marked the fifth consecutive year for Erik Butler attending the Mirai Traveling Carnival. The large organization traveled all over the region, settling in various cities to attract mon from local areas and nearby regions with its ambiance and bright colors.


Zany rides were constructed to give mon a thrill ride they would never forget, fun games were set up in vibrantly-painted booths to test many a mon's luck, and vendors served the delicious food that provided the necessary energy to enjoy the fair’s festivities to the fullest. The Mirai Traveling Carnival was a place where children could experience joy like nowhere else, and where adults could experience that same old delight again.


But if you were to ask, it was the carnival’s legendary sideshow troupe that attracted the most attention. On the last day of the Mirai Traveling Carnival’s duration in a city, the troupe would orchestrate what many called the ultimate form of entertainment, with several performances of mon displaying incredible feats of acrobatics and athleticism to inspire awe and wonder in all present. Approximately nine out of ten carnival-goers would say that ehe sideshow troupe was the fair’s most popular event.


Erik was no exception to that statistic. The sideshow troupe was always the zebstrika’s favorite part of the carnival. Sure, the food was tasty and the rides were wild, but no amount of roller coasters and fried dough could surpass watching mon deliver mind-blowing performances in the name of entertainment.


So here he sat inside a big red tent in the middle of the troupe's latest performance. Hundreds of mon had purchased tickets to see the show and not a chair went to waste, it seemed - another sold-out night for the troupe. From where he sat in the front row, Erik humbly bragged that, out of all the seats in the tent, he had the best view of all. Up close to the action, just how he liked it.


The night started out like it always did, with Mr. Morton the infernape, the captain of the troupe, the mastermind behind this marvel, instructing everymon to settle into their seats and cease all chatter. He introduced himself with his titular eccentric style of declaiming. Keeping his bombastic tone, he expounded upon the acts the audience would expect to see tonight, complete with an omnipresent smile of utmost joy on his face. The infernape's cheerfulness might as well have been contagious, for Erik couldn’t help but smile along.


"Ladies and gentlemon," he asked the audience near the end of his monologue, "Are you ready to see the best show on Earth?!" whereupon everybody, including Erik, vocalized their enthusiasm aloud.


"Well, now! Let's not waste any more time, shall we? Let the fun… begin!"


Then, one by one, Mr. Morton summoned one of the acts from his troupe's list of performers to the stage, where they would mesmerize everymon with their talent and mastery of their craft through a complex routine. All of Erik's favorite acts had returned, much to his delight. Seeing each familiar face grace the stage made his heart flutter.


There was Bendy Bertrand, an incredibly flexible lucario who bent his body and dislocated his limbs to create intricate choreography to dubstep music. He danced behind a large x-ray so that everymon could view his outlandish feats of contortion. Definitely not an act for the faint of heart, but Erik was as impressed as he was the last time he saw Bertrand. The zebstrika couldn't believe that the lucario topped his previous year’s stunt of fitting his entire lithe body inside a medium-sized suitcase that would perfectly fit a growlithe.


Duo Gemini, a pair of twin aromatisse sisters, returned to dazzle with their amazing acrobatic tricks once again, performing an aerial routine that included hanging from silks while flawlessly performing tricks dozens of feet off the ground, all without a safety net below! Erik was yet again rendered speechless as to how two young mon who were not even teenagers yet could be so brave, strong and talented.


And of course, Ritchie the Crazy Biker 'Yena, who led the audience outside the tent to show everymon what death-defying tricks and flips he could perform on his motorcycle as he jumped from one dirt ramp to another. If the proverbial saying was true, that a fine line existed between genius and insanity, then Erik believed that Ritchie had a healthy amount of both qualities which made him endlessly entertaining to watch.


Mr. Morton himself performed, as well. The ringleader dazzled by interacting with various props set ablaze, including twirling fire batons to create vibrant rings of fire, juggling torches in different fashions and quantities and swinging fire whips to create intricate patterns. An orchestral piece played in the background of his set with Mr. Morton's movements synchronizing with its melody. To better the appeal of his literal pyrotechnics, all of the lights had been deactivated so that the fire props were the only source of light in the tent. This was why Erik loved Mr. Morton, because he was not an average ringleader in how he was more than just the face of the troupe but another one of its amazing acts.


Ever since the show began, Erik's eyes glistened like stars at each spectacle. It was a night abundant with wonder, with one standing ovation after another. Even though it had been at least two hours since the show started, Erik wished that it would never end.


But alas, it all had to end sometime soon. "My friends," Mr. Morton said, "we have reached the final act of the night!" Mr. Morton's tone then changed from upbeat to gloomy. "As much as it pains me to say it, I am afraid the festivities must end at some point!" The infernape gave an exaggerated sigh and feigned an overly dramatic whine, much to the audience's amusement. "Unfortunate, but unavoidable."


"Regardless," he added, his enthusiasm from earlier quickly eradicating his melancholia, "I am more than excited to introduce our final act! Personally, I think you are all going to love, love, love her! She's a recent addition to the team and, by Arceus up above, I am more than honored to call somemon like her a new friend!"


'Ooh, another new act?' Now Erik’s interest was piqued. It was fun seeing an act no mon had ever seen before grace the stage, as nobody would know what to expect. Such was the case with Sam the Blackhearted, a simisage magician who made his debut tonight, performing several card tricks involving the illusion of vanishing a volunteer’s signed card into thin air, then finding it in obscure places, such as in between the pages of a big dictionary next to the same word she had written down at the start of the act. Plenty of flirting on Sam’s part, as well, which he kept chivalrous yet comedic, playing into the persona of “a true gentlemon.” Erik had no idea how Sam’s trick worked, and he didn’t expect Sam to ever tell anymon, either. Overall, a strong first performance, another hit for the troupe!


Yet the news of a new act made Erik a bit nervous, as well. This would either be a grand debut like Sam, or a mediocre performance, as unfathomable as that sounded. The fact that this was the final act of the night made him that much more anxious, too. He took a minute to calm down. After all, Bertrand, Duo Gemini and Ritchie had to start somewhere.


"I don't wanna spoil too much," Mr. Morton said, "but what I will say is that she's got a larger than life personality and a body to match!"


Erik chuckled. '"A body to match," huh? Must be a heavier species of pokemon, like krookodile or torterra, maybe even a snorlax, or something!'


"Everymon, please give a warm welcome to Taelyr, the Sumo Strongmon!"


The second the mon revealed herself, Erik was overwhelmed by emotion. His eyes went wide as saucers and his jaw hung open agape. “W-Whoa…” came his stunned reaction. Now he saw what Mr. Morton meant...


The fattest flygon - the fattest mon, at that - he had ever seen in his whole life walked out onstage; immediately, Erik could see where her stage name came from. This flygon boasted a girth that could fluster a snorlax; and her arms, legs, tail and neck were all encased in an ungodly amount of fat. She looked like a giant, green ball with circular limbs and a head!


Her gargantuan gut was poorly concealed by a gray tank top, which only managed to cover about a third of its immense bulk. Over her top, she wore a black denim vest with the buttons left undone, likely to accommodate her big belly. On each foot, she sported a black combat boot - as if her legs and feet were not already heavy enough! Erik doubted that she tied their laces herself. It was impossible for a mon as corpulent as her to bend over and reach her feet, let alone see them past all that fat!


A black fingerless glove studded with small spikes donned her chubby arms, a necklace with a blue dragon-type charm hung from her thick neck, and her claws were painted jet-black. Her body was also heavily inked, sporting a tattoo on each of her upper arms, both her thighs, across her chest, and on her right cheek going down her neck. Her attire, cosmetics, and accessories looked stereotypical for a metalhead.


Erik watched with bewilderment as Taelyr slowly lugged herself toward the middle of the arena, struggling to fathom how a mon as fat as her could remain mobile. But there was a fluidity to her movements that indicated the abundance of fat on her lower-body hardly hindered her gait whatsoever. Specifically, it didn't look like she was struggling to push herself forward with every step; rather, she was maintaining a slow and steady pace. Her smile conveyed an aura of confidence about it, and the red resin covering her eyes hid a fiery gaze.


Once she reached the center of the tent, Taelyr raised both of her heavy-looking arms - which, again, she appeared to do with no noticeable trouble - and bent them as she clenched her claws into fists, presenting a comical display of flexing her fat as if it were muscle.


A majority of the audience were clearly amused by Taelyr’s actions. They laughed, cheered and took pictures of her as she posed. Erik heard a cheeky whistle from somewhere behind him. Somemon was clearly smitten by this fat mon; Erik, however, thought otherwise. He saw no humor to be found in what he was seeing. He was appalled by this flygon's size and how disgustingly overweight she was. ‘A flygon should not be that fat!’ What was a mon of her size even doing here, anyway? Shouldn't she be at home or checked into a hospital, focusing on losing weight? Did her doctor, dietician, or personal trainer know she was here? Did she even have one?!


Now she was playfully digging her claws into her free arm’s fat, showing how soft and squishy her arms were. Her flamboyant behavior left him further incensed, nauseated even, close to vomiting. 'She thinks she's the sexiest mon alive, doesn't she? Ugh, no way!' This was not sexy in the slightest - it was outrageous! What was so hot about something so grotesque?


Oh, and he wasn't a fan of heavy metal music, either.


Mr. Morton exchanged a few words with his new act and handed her his microphone before disappearing backstage, leaving the Sumo Strongmon all by herself with the audience. "Hey, hey, hey! How's everybody doin' tonight?" she spoke. Her voice was gruff yet mellow, which Erik thought sounded rather dissonant for somemon as obese as her. "Enjoyin' the show, so far?" she asked the audience, who quickly arose in roaring applause - Erik included, as it was true: he had been enjoying the show... so far.


"Good, good! So like Mr. Morton said, my name is Taelyr, otherwise known as 'The Sumo Strongmon!'" She flexed once more before explaining the inspiration behind her stage name. "So, you know how some fairs have their 'fat mon' and 'strongmon' archetypes, yeah? Well, I'm like a two-in-one package combination of both, 'cuz I'm both extremely fat and incredibly strong!"


‘Well, honey, the fact that you’re mobile at your size is an incredible feat of strength in and of itself!’ Erik was left aghast. So not only was she aware of the disastrous state of her body, but she didn't seem to have even an iota of shame about it? 'She's crazy!' Erik thought, absolutely disgusted by this flygon's ignorance. She had the wisdom to acknowledge her obesity but had the naivete to not view it as an issue? ‘Of course obesity is a serious issue!’ How did she think it was acceptable to appear in public like this, be around other mon like this, talk about a serious issue like this?


Before Taelyr could continue her introduction, somemon from the audience yelled "Fatty!" The sudden verbal jab garnered some murmuring from shocked spectators. It appeared that Erik was not the only mon who held this opinion of her. The zebstrika felt a bit relieved yet awkward at the same time. Sure, he disapproved of Taelyr’s obesity, but he would never be vociferous about his disdain.


Taelyr had heard it, as well; however, she didn't seem remotely fazed by the heckler's insult, quickly retorting with "Ha! Man, you don't need to tell me that!" She gently smacked the soft surface of her big belly like a drum, creating a pleasant percussion sound that she clearly found endearing. "Yeah, I'm huge; I know!" she said before laughing in a jocular manner. "I weigh 761 lbs.! Haha! What can I say? I eat a lot... heheh, like, a lot!"


'Oh, I bet you do...' Erik cringed again. He had no problem with a mon being proud to express him or herself in whatever way he or she deems most comfortable. But this? This was surreal! Insane, even! What was there to celebrate about living an unhealthy lifestyle? So she took pride in something bizarre; surely there was nothing else to extrapolate about her size, right?


"I see some of you guys looking at me a certain way, but I totally get it. I mean, it ain’t everyday you encounter a mon as big as me! Hehe! Y'know, I'm actually the heaviest recorded member of my species in the whole world, believe it or not!" She said that statement with such conviction that it sent Erik and everymon else into a stunned silence, in collective awe over her apparent lack of self-image issues. Typically, overweight mon were rather bashful when it came to their weight and hated their size being the topic of discussion; but Taelyr was the first fat mon Erik had ever seen fully embrace his or her size, and he had no idea what an appropriate reaction should be. Regarding her claim, Erik did not doubt its credibility for a second, for Taelyr had to be the only flygon in existence who was as mindbogglingly massive as her. If he were to guess her weight, he estimated that she must be at least 700-800 lbs. - an absurd weight range for a flygon!


"But I digress. I know I got some generous proportions, but I wanna put more emphasis on the muscle I got hidin’ underneath all this flab! Believe me, I’m way stronger than I look! So, are you guys ready, or are you ready?"


'Oh, I'm ready, alright...'


"A'ight! Let's get this show on the road!"


Taelyr whistled backstage, and almost immediately, two machoke - her assistants, apparently - appeared from behind the curtain, each carrying a different prop: one, a barbell; the other, a wagon loaded with weighted plates of varying sizes and colors. There were four red plates, two yellow, and two blue. The red plates were the largest of the three kinds, with the yellow plates being smaller than them, and the blue plates being the smallest and presumably lightest of the three. The two machoke quickly got to work preparing the barbell, each sliding a plate onto each of its ends. Erik thought it was weird to see two muscular mon act so subservient to a fat mon.


While they were busy, Taelyr explained her first trick. "I'm gonna do a good ol' clean and jerk with this barbell, meaning I will lift it over my head! Now, each plate weighs a separate amount: the red plates weigh 100 lbs., the next-heaviest - yellow - weigh 50, and the last - blue - are 25."


"This," she said as she tapped her claws against one of the plates, "is authentic iron," evident by the metallic sound made when she struck its side. "Here, we got two red plates, and one yellow and blue plate. That's 100... 100... 50... 25! Altogether, that’s 275 lbs.! And since we got one set on each end, that’s a total of 550 lbs.! For comparison, that’s like the equivalent of lifting a palossand over my head… if only sand didn’t fall apart so easily."


'Okay, fatass, so you're apparently smarter than you look, as well.'


The two machoke had attached a collar to each end to hold their respective plates in place, then signaled to Taelyr that their preparations were done. With a machoke on each side, they hoisted the barbell, effortlessly carrying it as if it was a light wooden stick instead of a heavy iron rod and brought it over to their boulder-gutted boss. The barbell rested in their hands directly in front of her, ready to be gripped. Her six fingers wrapped around the barbell, knuckles facing forward, shifting along the bar until they found a comfortable position. With a nod of approval from her, the machoke slowly let go, leaving Taelyr to endure the weight. Her more muscular assistants stood at either side of her, just in case something went wrong.


Erik held his breath, anticipating either the worst or the best - mostly the former, but he still had some faith in her act, wanting to see another one of Mr. Morton's acts do well.


Taelyr did seem to be handling the heavy barbell pretty well. The only noticeable sign that she felt the strain was the visible sweat that started to drip down her face. Then, with one quick motion, she swung the bar upwards, holding the bar so her elbows now faced the audience, who clapped in response to her action, already impressed. But Erik held his applause, for Taelyr was not done yet. Not until she made that final transition would he bring his paws together.


But Taelyr paid the applause no heed, not out of lack of compassion but because she needed to concentrate. Her fiery gaze was fixated on the bar alone. Erik had been a fan of the sideshow troupe long enough to know that, from her position, even a millisecond’s worth of a dip in focus could prove disastrous. Erik eagerly eyed the bar in Taelyr’s hands as the fat flygon took in several deep breaths through gritted fangs, until with one last push, one big shout, and one great burst of energy…


“AAAAAAAAHH!!!”


She hoisted the heavy bar above her head in one swift motion, straightening her bulky arms as she let out a scream. Erik could not believe it! Taelyr had clean and jerked more than three-quarters of her presumed body weight!


The entire audience erupted in cheers - Erik included. A manectric sitting to Erik’s right was pleasantly surprised, both her eyes and smile wide with awe. Clearly, she was amazed by this fat flygon's feat of strength. Admittedly, Erik was impressed, too; however, he dared to be skeptical. Could a flygon as ridiculously overweight as Taelyr really be capable of lifting a heavy object over her head? 'No,' Erik thought, 'Impossible!' There had to be some gimmick afoot, an aspect of her act that wasn’t what it appeared to be. Perhaps the plates were fake and actually weighed little to nothing? Maybe Taelyr's fatigue was just stellar acting?


But Taelyr wasn’t done with her trick yet. She gingerly lowered the barbell back down to her ample chest, and then, with a second great shout, she hurled the bar as far as she could, which landed with a heavy thud in the dirt about three-and-a-half meters away from her. The red plates being the largest and heaviest, they collided with the ground first, appearing to slightly sink into the soft earth. Her machoke assistants swiftly retrieved the barbell as everymon clapped again, amazed by her finale.


The iron did look and sound pretty authentic... and what reason would she possibly have to sweat as much as she did when the setting of the sun made it rather cool inside the tent? Maybe this was real… Maybe...


"Hey! Flygon aren't usually that strong! This is nuts!" Erik turned around to see a male druddigon speaking to him from the row behind him. Erik grimaced. His own remark from earlier was now being thrown back in his face, only "fat" was replaced with "strong.”


"Yeah!" Taelyr proudly proclaimed, "How ya like them candy-coated apples, eh? Now, sure, 550 lbs. is a lot; but it’s the bare minimum of what I can lift. If you wanna see me lift even more weight, shout “I!” on 3! 1… 2… 3!”


“I!!!”


‘I… I guess...’


“Alright!” Taelyr turned her head upwards toward the top of the tent, where she called out, “Release the rope!” to a hidden assistant. Per her command, a blue rope slowly uncoiled from a hole above the tent until it reached the ground. Erik saw that, along the rope’s length at equal intervals, knots were tied.


As the rope fell, Taelyr’s machoke assistants returned, this time pushing a small staircase into the stadium. It was relatively large in design, with two wide steps about a foot off the ground each, and a handrail on each side. Taelyr walked to the front, gave her microphone to one of the machoke, and started ascending the stairs with one heavy footstep after another until she stood valiantly atop the structure. Although she already looked out of breath at the top-step, the vigor in her eyes indicated that she had plenty of spare energy left. She let the rope gently slip into her claws as it slowly fell from the ceiling, finding a good spot to grip on one of the many knots.


‘Is she serious?’ Erik thought, ‘She thinks she can climb that?! And where’s this-’ That was when it finally hit Erik: that “greater weight” The Sumo Strongmon was talking about? Herself!


The mon around him started screaming in shock when Taelyr jumped from the top of the stairs, hanging from the rope. Her big belly and thick tail sagged underneath her, her large legs dangled at each side, and her chubby arms nearly squashed her face. Erik winced; with every single pound of her hefty frame threatening to bring her to the ground, that had to be painful. How her bones hadn’t fractured from the sudden force was beyond him. There was just no way Taelyr did not feel even a little bit of discomfort in her current situation. It did look very uncomfortable, if Taelyr’s face implied anything.


Amazingly, though, she didn’t drop. With a grunt, she placed one hand in front of the other, then pulled herself upwards, then quickly repeating the move with her other hand. Her enormous abdomen jiggled about with every thrust of her hefty body, but the obese flygon persevered, continuing to fight through the pain. If the fact that she didn’t fall earlier proved how strong her iron grip was, then how she just kept on climbing with one perfect transition after another certainly did! In the battle between the fatass and gravity, the fatass was actually prevailing in a stunning upset victory!


The whole time, Erik’s eyes never left Taelyr’s body. As she continued to scale inch after inch up the rope, several thoughts cluttered Erik’s mind. Firstly, ‘That’s at least a probopass’ worth of weight those arms are holding…;’ secondly, ‘That rope must be made out of ariados silk, because how is it not snapping?;’ thirdly, ‘Ugh, that belly jiggle is an unattractive sight. Her tank top does not do a good job covering it up!;‘ and lastly, ‘This can’t be real. There’s gotta be some sort of mechanism attached to this fatass to support her, or something in her gloves that’s keeping her hands from slipping, or… something!’


But just like with the clean and jerk, everybody arose in enthusiastic acclamation. Even Erik contributed, but only because there was unanimous praise from the rest of the audience, and Erik did not want to be seen as the sole outlier.


By now, Taelyr had to have been a good ten feet up the rope, but Erik could tell that she was definitely feeling the fatigue, for every sharp exhalation of breath was audible from the farthest row of bleachers. Then Taelyr paused for a few seconds, apparently satisfied with her height she had reached, before starting to descend the rope. She slowly slid down the rope’s length, her gloves’ material protecting her skin from rope burn, until her feet reached the dirt surface of the tent. When they did, Erik swore her belly touched the ground before they did. Taelyr’s second trick was complete. She released her grip from the rope, let her arms fall, and gave a victorious shout.


She looked very tired. Her fatigue looked like how a rock-type long-distance runner might feel after breaking the world marathon record for their type. Her breaths came out rapid and harsh. A dark stain ran down the front of her tank top, and her skin was soaked shiny with a slick layer of sweat. Despite that, she still kept an air of professionalism and a complacent grin as she faced the crowd, who started a second round of applause - one that she could enjoy this time, without the risk of disrupting her concentration.


On cue, one of Taelyr’s machoke assistants gave Taelyr a big bottle of water, which she quickly opened and started feverishly drinking from, taking drink after swift drink to relinquish her exhaustion. She proudly declared “I’m the first strongmon... to physically use her own… her own body mass… as a weight!” in between gasps for breath. She gave her big belly a loud smack before cheering the last of her exhaustion away with another swig of refreshing liquid.


“How ‘bout that?!”


‘Yeah, yeah, cool and all… A unique concept, but I doubt what I saw was real!’


“Sorry ‘bout the seismic activity. Guess I shoulda warned you guys first, huh? I wasn’t kidding when I said I was heavy! No tricks, no magic, no strings attached!” she declared, still slightly fatigued. “All o’ this,” she said, flexing her hidden muscles again, “is just as real as all o’ this!” giving her big belly a gentle shake.


‘Shoot, she has a point… A mechanism strong enough to support a mon as heavy as her could not be hidden so easily. Goddammit!’ He shrugged. ‘So it is real.’ Taelyr’s super-strength was genuine, a fact Erik was forced to accept.


“You guys ready for more?”


“YEAH!!!”


This time, Erik’s response was less apprehensive. He, too, was now eager to see what Taelyr would do next, and how much weight she could lift. Still, he did not think too highly of her for taking pride in being fat. Although, he sheepishly came to admit that, honestly, she was starting to grow on him with how unique her act was - an obese female strongmon who uses her own massive weight to her advantage. That idea did sound… unique, definitely the kind of quality a ringleader like Mr. Morton adored in a performer. Taelyr was certainly distinct among overweight mon, boasting confidence like Erik had never seen such a mon express before, probably the most outspoken about her gargantuan size. She was definitely not a typical fatass, that was for sure. Lazy? Dumb? Weak? Shy? Depressed? Taelyr was none of those! She defied every common stereotype fat mon were known for, instead embracing their opposite. ‘You were right, Mr. Morton. Her personality is as big and bold as the rest of her!’


As much as he hated to admit it, Erik was actually enjoying this! With his suspicions about her credibility having been raised, he found some kind of respect for her growing inside him. She clearly worked hard for her debut performance and Erik thought it paid off, because what she was doing for her size was very impressive!


“Alright! For my last trick, we’re actually gonna need to go outside, so could everymon please follow my assistants outside the tent to the designated spot? I got somethin’ I wanna show ya that I think will blow your minds! Oh, and just a head’s up: because this trick will mark the end of tonight’s show, I strongly recommend that you take all of your personal belongings with you, because we will not be going back inside this tent! Okay? I repeat: it is strongly encouraged that you take all of your belongings with you outside! Now let’s go!”


Taelyr disappeared backstage, and her assistants began escorting the crowd outside. Everymon rose to follow them, remembering to bring their coats and bags with them, and were encouraged to discard any leftover trash on their way out. Mr. Morton joined the crowd, as well. As Erik followed the machoke outside the tent, the first thing he noticed was that the color of the sky had changed since the show began about two hours ago. The dusky blue-orange sky was replaced with black and purple of nightfall. Erik glanced down at his watch to see that, too his surprise, it was now past 9:00 P.M.!


Secondly, a big, blue tarpaulin caught his attention. There was some large object concealed underneath the sheet, and by observing its shape, Erik attempted to discern what it was. It was about his height, fairly long and shaped like a rectangle. Unfortunately, the zebstrika hadn’t the faintest idea on what lay underneath. Looking around him at the faces of his fellow spectators, no mon else seemed to, either. Whatever it was, Erik presumed it to be very heavy, given its sheer size.


Taelyr was nowhere to be seen, though. ‘Huh, you’d think somemon of her size wouldn’t be hard to spot.’


“Look! Up there!” Mr. Morton yelled from the crowd. The infernape was pointing at the sky.


‘Oh, my God. No way…’


Erik followed the direction Mr. Morton’s hand was pointing, squinting his eyes as he attempted to discern what the troupe leader was seeing. It was difficult to see anything against all the blackness, though… yet, looking closer, a flying pokemon was visible. The pokemon was a mix of green and black. 


The crowd erupted in joy as they realized what - or rather, whom - the pokemon was. “Is that her?” “Hey, it’s Taelyr!” “Oh, my God! She can fly!?” “Incredible!!!” Erik’s mouth fell open. This freakishly fat flygon’s wings weren’t useless and actually capable of lifting her off of the ground!? Just how many more surprises did Taelyr have left?


“BOOYAH!!!”


The Sumo Strongmon landed in front of the crowd with a large impact, shaking the ground and all mon whose feet rested on it. She reared her head down then unleashed a ring of bright beams of energy that evaporated into the air, much to the crowd’s delight. ‘Wow, extra,’ Erik thought; but he, too, was just as amazed by the epic spectacle as everymon else was. Taelyr’s huge arms crossed over her ample chest, heavy breaths escaping through a cocky grin. Her machoke assistants soon joined her side, looking like a pair of bodyguards protecting a high-profile celebrity.


“Hey, guys!” Taelyr cheerfully called, “Long time… no see, eh?” The audience reciprocated her exclamation with enthusiastic applause. “Now, I’m gonna get right to the chase: you’re all dying to know what’s under this tarp, ain’t ya? Well, let’s cut the crap now, shall we?” Taelyr’s assistants grabbed the tarpaulin at two different areas, prepared to unveil her final prop. “On 3! 1… 2… 3!” At once, Taelyr and her assistants removed the tarpaulin to reveal the source of everymon’s intrigue.


The crowd erupted in “Oohs” and “Aahs” as a giant cart was unveiled, a floodlight highlighting its features. Its metal frame sat atop two wooden wheels. Two handles protruded from one end of the cart with ribbons that touched the ground.


“This cart alone weighs 500 lbs.!” Taelyr explained. “My goal is to lift this cart up off of the ground for as long as I cant. Once the cart leaves the ground, the timer ain’t gonna stop until I drop!”


“Looks easy, right?” Taelyr continued. “Ha! Nah! ‘Course that ain’t all the weight I’m liftin’! It needs a few more weights inside.“ Taelyr pointed to the right, the floodlight following her gesture. The light reflected off of the brown, bumpy surface of several logs arranged in a large pile. “74 logs will be placed inside the cart to make it heavier. Each log weighs about… 5 lbs. Don’t sound like much on its own, but multiply that by 74 and the full magnitude of those logs’ll become obvious!” Taelyr’s assistants began transporting the logs from the pile into the cart. The clang that resonated from inside the cart as logs were chucked against the cart’s metal interior soon became the harsh percussion of wood colliding with more wood. Erik observed the logs Taelyr’s assistants were using; they looked big and bulky.


“Given the combined weight of the cart and the logs, that’s 870 lbs.” The Sumo Strongmon took a deep breath as she gave her fans one last look. “This’ll be the heaviest thing I lift tonight. I’m ready - are you all ready?”


“Yeah!”


Taelyr returned her microphone to Mr. Morton and turned to face the cart. Now it was time for her to concentrate. This would be the greatest amount of weight she’d have lifted tonight, and she needed absolute silence to get in the zone. Her assistants gave her a thumbs up when they had fully loaded the cart; Taelyr returned the gesture with a thankful smile. She bent her knees down as far as her thick thighs would allow her to, resting into a squat position as she wrapped her jet-black talons around the cart’s handles, giving it a few tugs to feel the cart’s weight. She gave the logs a confident look, took a deep breath, then slowly started to stand up.


Then the cart started tilting, much to everymon’s astonishment. Eventually, the ribbons left the ground! It was a surreal sight, seeing a mon as enormously obese as Taelyr lift such a large and heavy object, demonstrating surprising strength that defied her abnormal corpulence; yet she continued to stay strong! “Ten… eleven… twelve…” Mr. Morton’s eager gaze shifted from his latest star’s performance to the stopwatch in his paw, counting the seconds that passed by out loud.


But then she suddenly dropped the cart, falling backward onto her rear. All she did was just remain still now, shaking, panting, and grunting. A mix of excitement and worry overcame the crowd. What happened? Had she reached her limit on the amount of weight she could pull? She hadn’t given up now, had she?


“W-Wait a minute…” she replied loud enough for everymon to hear, “Wait a minute…” What was she talking about? Was she okay? Was she about to vomit from extreme exertion? Even Erik was worried.


“I… I got an idea!” she declared.


“You!” she called, pointing to somemon in the crowd. “Yeah, you!” Erik looked at where her black claw was pointing and saw one of the spectators, a male aggron, looking confused. Taelyr gestured with her claw for him to come forward. “C’mere! May I offer you a spot in my trick?”


The aggron gave Taelyr a nervous look but nevertheless stepped forward to accept the sudden offer. Behind him, Mr. Morton began offering the aggron words of encouragement. “Come on, guys! This mon needs all the love he can get!” Per Mr. Morton’s comment, everymon gradually started offering the aggron cheers of their own. Their support appeared to make him more comfortable, as he increased his pace to a jog as he ran up to greet The Sumo Strongmon.


“‘Sup?” Taelyr said as she shook the aggron’s hand “What’s your name, dude?”


“Uh, Carlo, ma’am.”


“Nice to meet ya, Carlo! Glad to see somemon so eager to accept. Everymon, let’s give a round of applause for Carlo!” Erik and everymon else gladly offered Carlo a second helping of encouragement, to which he responded with a shy grin and a coy thumbs up.


Erik, too, was unsure of what to think, the rhythm of his hands clapping more slowly than the other audience members. ‘What on earth does she have planned for this guy?’


Taelyr kept talking to Carlo. “What I want you to do is to climb into the cart, okay? And brace yourself, ‘cause I am going to lift the cart while you are in it!”


Erik’s eyes shot open in shock. ‘Okay. Before, you sounded confident; now you just sound crazy!’


“But before you do that, do you mind if I ask how much you weigh?”


“Uh, about 800 lbs..”


“Whoa, wow!” Taelyr sounded pleasantly surprised. “Uh, that’s… t-that is…” was all she could say before momentarily pulling her mouth away from the microphone before breaking into a giggling fit. “That’s actually, uh… heavier than me, believe it or not!”


A series of “Ooohs” came from the crowd as Carlo did as Taelyr instructed, her volunteer climbing into the cart with help from her assistants. Carlo sat as comfortably as he could atop the logs. With the additional weight of an aggron, the load had now increased to 1,670 lbs.


With Carlo weighing down the cart even more, the feat suddenly sounded more impossible. Nevertheless, the Sumo Strongmon looked as determined as ever to deliver an amazing spectacle again.


She repeated her rhythm from before, carefully bending down to grasp the cart’s handles and using her lower-body strength to slowly stand upright. The process visibly proved more of a struggle for her, but she was determined to end her performance on the highest note possible. She kept pushing herself and soon, the cart started budging, with Carlo holding on tight. “Oh, my God, look! It’s moving!” An audience member commented, whereupon the crowd began cheering once more.


The greater weight felt nigh-unbearable and the strain was certainly showing on her face, but she continued to trudge forward, letting the adrenaline obliterate all negative thoughts her fatigue brought upon her. Sweat cascaded her scales, but her eyes were fixated on the cart and nothing else.


“Taelyr! Taelyr! Taelyr” The entire crowd had Taelyr’s back - which was a lot of back to get behind - and began chanting her name. Erik, too, was cheering.


The entire time, Mr. Morton was relaying the numbers that showed up on his stopwatch like he had before. “Ten… eleven… twelve…” By now, Taelyr had upstaged her previous lift with an even heavier amount of weight! “Fifteen… sixteen!”


“If anymon wants to… mmph… climb aboard…” Taelyr shouted through the fatigue, “You’re… ack… more than… welcome to!”


At the sudden request, several mon ran forward. First was a herdier, then a charmeleon, followed by a bouffalant. One by one, each mon joined Carlo the aggron in the cart, adding more weight to the load.


“Aaaaaaaaaaaggghh!!!” Erik couldn’t help but cringe at Taelyr’s scream. It sounded like she was in immense pain.


“You okay, Taelyr?” Carlo asked out of concern for the flygon.


“M… Mmph! M-More!!! Uugh!” Her massive frame was trembling from the effort, but the cart staid off the ground.


One more mon, a pachirisu wearing a pink hoodie, climbed atop a krookodile, standing atop its red-and-black head. She was grinning wickedly. “Oh, yeah! I paid good poke-dollars for this!” The electric squirrel pokemon jumped off the end of the krookodile’s nose like a diving board with an energetic “Let’s go!!!!!” Ten more pounds of pachirisu were added to the pile.


But then… “WooooUUUGHH!!!” with a yelp, Taelyr dropped the cart into the dirt. The cart’s contents jostled violently, causing the passengers inside to yelp a little. Taelyr fell onto her rear again, raising a flabby arm in triumph and gave an anguished cry of victory that echoed into the night.


Mr. Morton sprinted back to Taelyr, the infernape’s arms outstretched for a big hug; however, Taelyr protested. “N-No, don’t… don’t… hug me… I’m… I’m gross, dude!” Mr. Morton understood, choosing to high five then fist bump the Sumo Strongmon instead. Her machoke assistants walked up to them carrying a metal basin of water. The glint in the infernape’s eyes indicated he knew what to do, so joined them in dousing Taelyr with the water. She sat still, willingly letting the cold liquid cascade down her body. She sighed in relief; the cold temperature of the water contrasted her intense fatigue, and it probably felt wonderful after the supreme stunt she had just performed. She deserved to enjoy every last droplet!


The last thing that came out of her mouth blew Erik away.


“Uh-huh! Let this performance serve as a testament that anything is possible if you are willing to put in the effort! I got to where I am today because a long time ago, I decided that... "You know what? I really want to do something worthwhile with my life! I wanna take this big ol’ dream of mine and make it reality!" Cuz I was living a boring life, I had a stupid job, and I was unhappy. I soon decided that enough was enough - I wanted to make a difference!”


“You think all this super-strength... I-I was born with it? Hell no! I got this strong because I worked hard every single day! I dared to push myself way beyond my limits, and oh, my God, it hurt, it sucked, it felt horrible, and it sure as hell wasn't easy for a mon of my size! I mean, I’m… pretty limited in terms o’ what I can do and what I can’t!"


"There were times when I felt like quitting, like giving up. There was the recurrent thought of "Ugh, this is unbearable! Maybe I should just... stop." I wanted so badly to relieve myself of this... torture. But I didn't, and years later still, I'm glad I didn't. Call me a stubborn zealot, a hopeless optimist, or a crazy lunatic; I do not care! Believe me, there were mon on the way who kept using terms like those to wear me out, and initially, it kinda got to me, I'll be honest; but I soon learned to just… ignore all that crap! I finally have a chance to turn my life around for the better, and I am not going to let some arrogant numbskulls try to tell me what to do!"


"Because in the end, it was so, so worth it! All those years' worth of pain, of tears, of self-doubt - the final result ultimately trumped all of that! I mean, did all of y'all see what I did tonight?! Five or so years ago, I would not have been able to accomplish those feats! Even to this day, I still need to work hard to keep my strength up.”


"So if you've got a dream, go for it! There's nobody stopping you… except yourself! Dreams don't come true overnight; dreams come to fruition through effort and energy and a crap ton of determination! Dreams can take days, months, even years to accomplish! But don't let that deter you! You have to find that purpose yourself! It's a rough process, but trust me: it's worth it! Because, by golly, if somemon like me can do something like this, anybody can! Anything is possible!"


"I am Taelyr, the Sumo Strongmon! I hope you had a fun time, and good night!!!"


Erik gleefully contributed to the big final round of applause of the night. This was the most content he had ever felt in all of his years of watching the troupe! Each year, they somehow manage to better their routines. Bertrand, Ritchie, Sam - everymon brought their A-game… especially Taelyr, who might have given even more - an “A+-game,” perhaps. For a new recruit, she made a grand impression on everymon tonight to ensure that she would not be forgotten. She was a brave mon, doing what she did at her absurdly huge size. And that memorable motivational monologue of hers about chasing your dreams was one of the best speeches Erik had ever heard!


Now that the show was over, mon began to leave the area. On their way out, Taelyr would chat with them alongside her troupemates, taking photos and signing autographs. She was also advertising a party that she and the rest of the Mirai Traveling Carnival Sideshow Troupe were hosting the next day. To promote the event, Taelyr was listing what food would be provided, bragging about eating ten whole 12” pizzas. Some mon were intrigued by the idea. But Erik?


‘Eww. Hard pass.’ While Erik planned to go to show his support for the troupe, he was not interested in seeing Taelyr stuff herself silly like that. She was a charismatic performer, yes… yet she was also the most shameless glutton he had ever known, as boastful of her stomach as she was with her strength. ‘That must be what the “fat mon” part of her act looks like.’ The thought of somemon eating such a large amount of food in one sitting grossed him out, but he could still appreciate how unique the “strongmon” part of her act was. Besides, he figured that the actions of a single mon shouldn’t dictate his attendance.


Overall, Erik left the show having learned something. The zebstrika had previously a negative opinion of Taelyr and fat mon in general; but he now understood that a highly corpulent mon had just as much a right to live a happy life as a mon of normal weight like him. He might not agree with her lifestyle, but she was clearly happy to be herself, and he respected that. He entered a detractor, and left a fan. But did this shift in judgment mean his opinion on fat mon had changed completely? Well…


Let’s suppose Erik was presented with the opportunity to date only one of two possible female mon, both of whom were equally beautiful in their own right, with their only difference being size, would Erik choose the fat mon over the trim mon?


Well, it would depend if said female mon in question had a personality that Erik found appropriate for the job. Sure, she might not be the prettiest mon in the world, but an unattractive exterior could hide a beautiful interior.


Like she said, she had endured constant harassment working to accomplish her dreams, likely the same prejudice he displayed upon first meeting her. He felt… a pang of guilt. The fact that he was certain the Mirai Traveling Fair Sideshow Troupe was actually going to deliver a sub-par performance was enough of an offense already. But he should not have judged Taelyr so harshly just because she was a fat mon with no self-image issues. He never should have judged her book by its cover, even if that book was a cookbook full of the most decadent and most chocolatey confections known to monkind, it was still naive of him to base the harsh assumptions and comments he made about her just because she was fat. Erik decided that, come the party, he would approach Taelyr - if she wasn’t eating, of course - to ask for forgiveness and how he admired not just her physical strength, but her inner strength, as well.


Because to boldly confront prejudice and surpass all assumptions to prove that you are more than what other mon claim… that is true strength.


- FatalCalamityz