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*Hey, Daddy-Bear. How are you doing?*

The Good Lady asked in a disquietingly gentle voice.

I looked up in suspicion from the bowl of pasta I was having as my mid-morning snack.

*I am fine, dear woman. How are you, oh recipient of my meat?*

I boomed loudly to chase her off.

*I am fine.*

She ignored my *meaty* comment and pulled a chair out and sat next to me at the table, placing a hand gently on my forearm. 

Inside I nodded with approval that she hadn't been so foolish as to lay a hand on my fork arm. That way madness lay.

I lifted another mouthful of spicy sausage pasta to my mouth and gave it a happy chew. I wondered what the Good Lady was after? She had laid a hand on me which by any measure must mean she was trying to rev up the old beef corvette for a drive.

Inwardly, I chuckled. Patience, lady of mine. Can you not see that old Daddy-Bear has a bowl of pasta to finish and then might need a short nap? 

There will be time for finagling later. Perhaps.

Fuck, I noticed she was still there. Looking at me, saying nothing but with an odd look of pity in her eyes.

*Can I help you then?*

I said hoping that I couldn't.

*Well, Daddy-Bear, perhaps I can help you!*

Her voice seemed artificially light. There was something wrong here. Something in the wind and I didn't mean the wind from our oldest cat's arse. 

I frowned magnificently at her. 

*Help me? How? How can __you__ help me?*

I commanded like an 18th Century English Lord speaking to a peon.

*I am glad you asked. You know with this lockdown situation we have all gained a few pounds. Only to be expected. Well, some of the girls are getting together a Whatsapp group for losing the COVID Weight. We will do a weekly weigh-in via a video call and treat it as a bit of fun but also you know... seriously? I wondered, if you would like to join in?*

She grinned hugely at me.

I grimaced as if I were a teenage boy who's fat Aunty had made a comment about his bedroom being where *it all happens.*

*What do you mean, you want me to join in? Like a referee or something? A Judge kind of thing, like on Pop Idol but with fat women?*

I asked in a confused tone.

*A referee? A Judge? Oh!! Oh ho, haha hhahahhahahhaha. Oh my! Oh no, you! You didn't?! Oh, Daddy-Bear... What?!*

The Good Lady creased herself in two as if she had been stricken with sudden onset Spina Bifida. 

I was a little baffled myself. What was so funny? Had she been boob feeding the Little Boom a bit too strenuously and he had sucked out some of her actual brains?

The Good Lady caught herself and straightened up. 

She reached a hand over and patted my stomach.

*No no, Daddy-Bear. I mean as a participant. You know, to shift a few pounds?*

She giggled slightly as if we were in Iran and had found a bag of figs.

To shift a few...? What? 

Did she mean, I could lose a few pounds??!

Slowly,  I inhaled a great snort of air in through my nose and lifted up the Iron Hand, readying myself, however regretfully, to administer justice.

The Good Lady gave my belly a shake and made a strange *bubububububuuu* noise with her lips.

I looked down at my belly, still rippling back and forth like a cut-rate tsunami and looked back up at the Good Lady.

*So, you up for it?*

She asked excitedly. Withdrawing her evil hand.

I looked back down at my belly. Was it still wobbling?

Fuck.

*Aye, go on then.*