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“You landed on my hotel: pay up!”
“Aw, come on,” Fiona moaned. “Fine, here’s your money.”
Fran took it gladly. “I told you: Kentucky Ave is a fav.”
“’Fav’ isn’t a word.”
“What I want to know,” Meghan interjected, “Is why we have to automatically stay at a hotel whenever we stop. Imagine driving around New York for days and days and sleeping in hotels; what are we even doing here?”
“Yeah,” Fiona agreed, “And what about spaces with houses? Does that mean that we just barge into some guy’s home and demand to sleep there? Yeah, you pay rent, but it seems rude.”
“All I know is that I’ve got another five-hundred bucks. I’m about to make it rain in this bitch!”
“I heard that,” Mom snapped from upstairs. “You watch yourself, Fran.”
Fran rolled her eyes and turned to Gretchen. “Could you pass me some…nachos?”
“Hmm? Oh!” Gretchen looked quite sheepish holding the empty plate. “I’m sorry.”
The girls stared as Gretchen slowly expanded. Her big sweatpants tightened, her round bottom swelling and stretching out the fabric. Her arms and legs plumped up, and her belly softened, gaining more rolls.
“Not again,” Gretchen sighed.