Daryl had always harboured a suspicion that video games were bad for you–it always seemed like such a waste of time, when you could be doing something productive with your time: studying, working out, taking a walk, or anything else for that matter! And so, you can imagine his frustration when he arrived at his campus house for the start of the semester, and discovered he was living with a bunch of gamers–though one of them was by far the worst of the lot. Sammy was every worst imagined flaw of a gamer that Daryl could imagine, brought to life. He was obese, he was a slob who never picked up after himself, he drank and ate all the time wherever he was, and he was always playing those stupid games of him. His two housemates got sucked in with him, wasting their time, but he just ignored them…until he started to notice something strange.

The other two guys had been fairly normal, but within a month of hanging out with Sammy, they were starting to pick up his habits. They stopped shaving and showering, they were all drinking beer and eating pizza every night, and none of them seemed to find that the least bit strange or disturbing, even when he tried to point out what was happening to them. They were oblivious. By midterms, the two of them were almost unrecognizable, and if he hadn’t seen it happen, he would have never believed that the two of them had been slim, clean cut guys just a month and a half before–it wasn’t possible. How in the hell could someone even gain 200 pounds that quickly?

The tension in the house was rough–Daryl would get into screaming fights with any of them, telling them to pick up their crap, or do anything besides sit there, drink, and play video games all day long. Then, one night, he came home late from the library, only to discover the living room was empty of the three of them, but the gaming system was still on the TV. He walked over to turn it off, but the screen…caught his interest somehow, and he stared at it for a few minutes, unblinking, before throwing caution to the wind, picking up the controller, and giving it a shot.

When he finally emerged from the stupor he’d sunk into, he realized it was morning–no, it was afternoon. Snacks were litered around him, along with a bunch of empty beer bottles, and his gut was distended. He threw down the controller and stood up as Sammy walked into the room, completely naked, bearing another tray of junk food. “Oh player four, sit back down on that couch–you aren’t nearly ready for a break yet.”

Daryl tried to resist, but he found himself compelled to obey, Sammy waddling over and picking up the controller, putting it back in his hands. “Players two and three are having plenty of fun upstairs together, so that gives us plenty of time to get you caught up, right big boy?”

But Daryl wasn’t listening anymore–he was playing his game. By the end of the week, he was as massive, hairy and slobby as the rest, begging for player one’s cock all day long, and he couldn’t even remember being any other way.