mt lardy, midnight

The private meeting room groaned as Mt. Lady shifted her 800-pound frame, her lavender bodysuit straining as she wedged herself deeper into a triple-wide velvet chaise. "You’re just jealous, Nemuri," Yu huffed, reaching for a gilded tray of truffles. "My presence literally commands the room, while you’re barely a footnote at 600." Midnight paced in a slow, hypnotic waddle, fanning her face. "Commanding or just stuck, darling?" she said. "I can actually reach the door without a team of interns. You’re not a mountain anymore, you’re a landmark."