Samantha Fisherman by Longcriercat
One of the first pieces done for me by Longcriercat, a pic of Burger World's Samantha Fisherman from the Adipose City universe. A Grabboid infiltrator with few peers, Samantha is a master at squeezing her enormous rump through places where it shouldn't fit.
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(Taken from Operation: Tight Squeeze)
[i]“I’m in Penelope, can you hear me?” She whispered into her helmet microphone while slowly squeezing and slithering her way through the narrow airducts, her broad hips squished by the unyielding metal.
“Loud and clear Sammy, may I ask how you got in?”
“An air vent on the roof, looks like it goes all the way down to the basement level.”
“Oh goodie, I’ll get some cooking oil from Spoons then. Damn it Samantha, one of these days you’re going to have to tell us how you manage to fit your fat ass in all those tight spaces. Vents, barrels… if I didn’t know better I’d swear you enjoyed it.” The equine hacker replied sarcastically over the communicator.
Samantha smiled, grateful the channel was audio-only, but remained focused on the task at hand. “Quit the jokes Penny, you know a magician never reveals her secrets. Just tell me where they have Betty so I can be home in time for dinner.” The mink asked, fighting to ignore the small flame of jealous that flared up as she thought about the exceptionally chesty feline. No one deserved what PEC tended to dish out…
From her perspective inside the ventilation system, the interior of the warehouse didn’t appear to be that much different then the exterior. Pallets of freight were hauled in and out of the facility by heavy forklifts, the Consortium was either determined to maintain the façade that this was a legitimate warehouse or so strapped for facility space that they were doubling up. Shimmying along, the vents gently rattling in protest of her girth, Fisherman’s infiltration took her down to the basement warren of maintenance corridors and workshops… and several rooms that were definitely not on the original floor plan; a gymnasium for the lunkheads to spend their off-hours, a “fat farm” room full of exercise bikes to generator power from a troop of sweltering fatties the Consortium kidnapped from the city, barracks for the guards, and the prison… [/i]
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Artist's Site: https://www.weasyl.com/~longcriercat
-------
(Taken from Operation: Tight Squeeze)
[i]“I’m in Penelope, can you hear me?” She whispered into her helmet microphone while slowly squeezing and slithering her way through the narrow airducts, her broad hips squished by the unyielding metal.
“Loud and clear Sammy, may I ask how you got in?”
“An air vent on the roof, looks like it goes all the way down to the basement level.”
“Oh goodie, I’ll get some cooking oil from Spoons then. Damn it Samantha, one of these days you’re going to have to tell us how you manage to fit your fat ass in all those tight spaces. Vents, barrels… if I didn’t know better I’d swear you enjoyed it.” The equine hacker replied sarcastically over the communicator.
Samantha smiled, grateful the channel was audio-only, but remained focused on the task at hand. “Quit the jokes Penny, you know a magician never reveals her secrets. Just tell me where they have Betty so I can be home in time for dinner.” The mink asked, fighting to ignore the small flame of jealous that flared up as she thought about the exceptionally chesty feline. No one deserved what PEC tended to dish out…
From her perspective inside the ventilation system, the interior of the warehouse didn’t appear to be that much different then the exterior. Pallets of freight were hauled in and out of the facility by heavy forklifts, the Consortium was either determined to maintain the façade that this was a legitimate warehouse or so strapped for facility space that they were doubling up. Shimmying along, the vents gently rattling in protest of her girth, Fisherman’s infiltration took her down to the basement warren of maintenance corridors and workshops… and several rooms that were definitely not on the original floor plan; a gymnasium for the lunkheads to spend their off-hours, a “fat farm” room full of exercise bikes to generator power from a troop of sweltering fatties the Consortium kidnapped from the city, barracks for the guards, and the prison… [/i]
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Artist's Site: https://www.weasyl.com/~longcriercat
9 years ago
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