Robin continues in his latest crime spree, with a few unintended consequences. Enjoy!
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Robin Hood had spent a lot of time in his career as an outlaw thinking of the best ways to commit his crimes— he knew the right targets to pick to steal the most gold with the minimal amount of risk, he knew the best ways to leave behind only the most bare amount of evidence, and how to move stolen goods and coin to get to the poor and needy he had always aimed to help. And yet for all his cleverness, the fox had never considered the benefits of simply stealing food. In a sense, it was a perfect crime— the point of food being in the eating, hiding stolen goods became a non-issue.
This line of thinking had Robin chasing the same thrill night after night, something, anything, so he could relive the rush of his outlaw days. He knew Goodie Madge was growing increasingly vigilant in protecting her kitchen, but while she might be nearly as imposing as the old Sheriff, she wasn't nearly as good as she thought she was at catching thieves. Night after night, Robin would swipe as much as he could manage from the kitchen without the cooks catching on, and then enjoy his rewards— leaving only the occasional bone or apple core to dispose of. For quite a while, Robin was certain he would get away with this without anyone ever catching on— until the fox remembered all that food had to go somewhere.
His lean and fighting fit physique had suffered badly from this latest hobby of his, his new, fine clothes stretched out to their limits as his belly billowed out like a sail catching a full wind, his belt unable to hold back the widening of his hips, and his chest and arms become lined with an extra layer of plush. When he realized how much weight he had been putting on, he was certain it would all come out— but apparently even his castle staff and wife thought not even Robin Hood would steal from himself. Robin had heard Marian mentioning the word "diet," however, and he didn't like the sound of that at all.