The obese man sat over the chairs seat hoping it wouldn’t break beneath his weight, as the man in the white coat told him that it wasn’t his fault he was living in a grotesque skin filled with fat and disease. The other day a different white coated person had said,” there is less and less circulation in your legs and in a few years if things don’t turn around you will lose both feet.” The obese man whose feet pointed outward, as his legs rubbed together to below his knees recalled an advertisement on his favorite morning television show as he waddled down the hall, something that would be the answer to his prayers; a magic injection and he would no longer be in a grotesque skin, he’d be a skinny man they said and all he had to do…
“…ask your healthcare expert about it…"
Expert,”hormones, glp-1, you aren’t in control, disease, disease, some more it’s not your fault.”
You don’t say the man in the grotesque skin thought, obviously it’s not his fault, he knew it the whole time, he was smart and so grateful they could finally help him. They told him he was born this way and only with this magic injection could he be his true self; he would have to take it the rest of his life.
A week later the obese man lifted his puffy fingers holding a burger in a bun, ketchup dripping from the side he took a big bite and chewed his food and swallowed it down. The person in the white coat that he had asked about the magic injection, so he could be his true self, told him he didn’t have to do much differently, take special supplements and eat normal, so the soon to not be obese man for his first free meal would be his favorite.
The chewed up ground beef, pieces of bun, and ketchup slid down into his stomach where the acid would normally continue to break down so it could make to the next step where all the nutrients would be absorbed for good use. This time though the chewed up ground beef, pieces of bun, and ketchup jostled in his stomach till it would rot enough to seep through his intestinal system and drip out the other end, where normally nutrients would be absorbed to feed his whole body through management of the system controller.
The system controller of the obese man knew the fuel had been taken in to the body but now the pathways of control had been disconnected. The system controller had a job to do even if the fuel system had been closed off; so the system manager started to dismantle and consume the obese man, bone meal pieces here and there, iron from the organs, just a bit, not to much and some fat to melt on down.
The system controller was aware of more going on than the once obese man, as his not as fat fingers walked their way down the row of new shirts on hangers, something to fit his true self, smaller than his last self. The system controller had taken fuel where it could but with no control to intake fuel from the outside, the fat had been melted and the bones hallowed. The organs that the systems controller needed to keep the now not obese man alive had been broken down to keep the systems controller from wasting.
The now not obese man was having more and more problems, he was skinny now, but he had a hard time breathing and his feet really weren’t better, his skin had yellowed here and greyed there he thought, as he walked down the hall to get his routine magic injection from the person with the white coat. As he was walking his hip buckled beneath him and he fell to the ground.
A year later, after losing access to fuel control intake, the systems controller had no more fuel to keep the now not obese man working, so the systems controller started closing bits of the complex being down.
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