Tyson whimpered in his seat. He fidgeted his fingers slightly, tapping them lightly on the chair rests. He couldn’t move, not a single twitch Audrey said. Audrey was the makeup person on set, currently dying his fur the right color. “H-how much longer will this take?” Tyson said quietly, trying not to move his mouth too much, despite how odd his new contacts felt.

“I’m working for quality, not speed right now, hun. Do ya need me to turn on the TV?” She said, slight southern drawl coming through her speech as she prepared another dollop of dye.

“N-no… So what happened after your mom opened the general store?” He said, smiling tinily. Audrey was quick to spill her life story to him. It was interesting to Tyson; he had spent much of his life under the impression that California was the only place worth thinking about, but it was harder to accept that assumption the more he actually talked to people.

Audrey began speaking about how her father was the produce collector for all the farmers as Tyson looked down at his costume. He frowned slightly. He was proud of his weight now, the power and attention enjoyable and confidence boosting and the ability to cut loose with food a fantastic vice with which to channel his negative energies, pushing his positive energies into his day to day life, but this was a bit too much…

It looked like one of those old B-movie outfits, the ones that the Conan rip offs would use when they got a muscleman who couldn’t act. They’d put him in a loin cloth and not much else before sending him off in front of the camera to say mediocre lines. While Tyson and this production did not resemble… 90% of that statement, Tyson’s whole belly hanging out felt a little over the top.The attire provided barely covered anything on his body, He didn’t even get pasties for his nipples! Still, with a blush that thankfully did not confuse Audrey’s dying, he did find it nice he could be this open about himself, and how great he looked.