Gay weight gain

'Mayor Bradley! What are your reflections following your surprising electoral victory in securing a second term?' a man inquired, microphone in hand.

'I'm deeply honored that the citizens of Stocksville have once more entrusted me with their leadership. I'm enthusiastic about returning to my office and implementing positive change.' He confidently stated, smoothing the sleekness of his blue suit. He meticulously adjusted the curls of his hair.

'Mayor! To what do you attribute this considerable triumph?' a woman, striking in her red suit, interjected, her voice sharp from the crowd. She, of course, was fascinated by the significance of a black man's re-election as mayor in Stocksville.

'I believe my policies are evident. Our economy is improving, crime rates are at a record low, and the general populace feels satisfied with city life,' the mayor assertively replied.

'And mayor, what response do you have for those who suspect your victory to be fraudulent?' a man questioned, before being jostled back into the gathering.

If the voters had understood him intimately or had carefully observed his body language, they might have discerned a moment of hesitation before he responded. 'I urge everyone to await the official results from the voting authorities, and in the meantime, collaborate with me on constructing a better Stocksville,' he warmly stated.

'How could anyone have suspected such a clandestine plot - I was certain it would remain under wraps.' A man with unkempt brown hair paced, his words interrupted by Scott.

'Silence! I assure you my office is not concealed with hidden cameras or clandestine microphones. There's no way such misinformation could have surfaced.' He stated, leaning forward at his desk.

'Then how did they know about our covert actions?' Scott swiftly and decisively cut off the man this time.

'There is absolutely no basis for such suspicions, aside from baseless conjecture. We've acted with complete integrity, and there's no evidence of wrongdoing.'

Roger, wiping perspiration from his neck, responded with 'Well… '

Scott, his expression firm, said, 'Roger.'

'I am not admitting to concealing the document, but-'

'Roger!' Scott exclaimed, a surprising display of frustration.

'What if I require a supernatural entity to secure a desirable woman, perhaps? One never knows.' Roger confessed, significantly less tense.

'If by ‘supernatural entity' you imply ‘advice,' then fine. But you definitely didn't mean what you said literally, correct?' Scott replied, highlighting the sarcasm in his tone.

'Relax Brandon, there's no cause for concern. I'm practically certain there are no negative repercussions. You followed the advice's counsel, correct?' Roger began, "You did indeed follow the advice, correct?"

Brandon sighed, pulling out the greasy takeout container, "Yes, I purchased a burger after my win. I fail to grasp how this could be akin to whatever that… advice entail.'

He savored a large bite, finding the taste exquisite. Scott promptly followed suit, taking a bite and a sip of his beverage.

'Hold on to your hats, champ. Just because you triumphed doesn't necessarily mean indulging in such a feast won't compromise your health.' Roger cautioned, though Brandon was seemingly engrossed in his meal.

'Mmph, sorry,' Scott swallowed the final bites of his burger, 'I'm not certain why, but that was the greatest burger I've had from McTasties.' Following his soda and fries, he declared, "I believe I'll purchase another. They must have tweaked the recipe.'

Roger noticed Scott smear grease onto his blue suit, which, given its dark hue, wasn't notably affected. Nevertheless, he recalled Brandon's anger when he had spilled water on a similar garment.

'Yes, I'm heading home now. Please call if you require any assistance outside of politics.' Roger said, his green and gray hoodie strings swaying. 

Despite his serene outward appearance, Roger was still pondering the peculiar incident from the previous night. Just what was it that they had evoked from the supernatural realm?