The roads aren’t ready for Vicky—and neither is the poor candy bar she’s demolishing in frustration. Stuck in traffic, her belly pressing hard against the steering wheel, she’s seconds away from losing it. That tiny snack isn’t going to cut it, not for a girl who’s been dreaming of buffet trays stacked with food mountains. Her shirt clings to her sweaty curves, already riding up from the pressure of her size and impatience.

The setting may be mundane—a car, a traffic jam—but the tension in her body, the sheer need to eat, turns this into a moment of explosive gluttony waiting to happen. When Vicky finally parks at that buffet? It’s going to be a feeding frenzy for the record books.