Tease me. Tell me what fat greedy, lazy, unfit hog I will become. Tell me how you will turn my small body fat. Leave no details left out.
You can’t imagine what a hog I will turn you into. I want you to hit 500 pounds, morbidly obese and fatter than most people will EVER be, and know you aren’t even halfway done growing. Instead of introducing you as my significant other...I want people to only know you as my hog. I want you to lose any self-control you had. It starts small. Take-out and fast food more often. Snacks and desserts within your reach at all times. The first twenty pounds creep on and you barely notice.I know the tricks. No “portion sizes” - eat straight from the pan. I”ll keep you on the best diet. Everything heavy on sugar, butter, and cream. Greasy pizza. Burgers smothered with mayo. Buckets of fried chicken. Family size portions of mashed potatoes drowning in gravy and mac and cheese dripping with excess cheese. Brownies. Ice cream. You want a soda? Just get a 2 liter. Chips? Better be family sized. Cake? You aren’t cutting a slice, you need to finish the whole damn thing. Then you get lazier. You could get your lazy ass off the couch - or you could text me to bring you more food. Tell me to answer the door and get your mountain of takeout containers because you’re too lazy to waddle 5 feet. (but don’t worry. when you’re so out of shape lifting your arms is an effort, or your sausage-like fingers finally become too laden with blubber to even move, I’ll feed you). Walking to the trash? why bother, just let yourself be surrounded by your feasts as a monument to your gluttony. Walking is so much work. First, you only get a little winded going up stairs. Then walking to your car becomes an exhausting effort. You go from being slightly winded to wheezing and huffing and puffing and sweating because your unused muscles aren’t struggling to lug around hundreds and hundreds of pounds of lard dragging them down. I hope you don’t plan on going to work for very long. No one wants an employee who keeps outgrowing their uniform, constantly eating, and complaining about doing the smallest of tasks. You’d be better suited working from home....or giving in and letting yourself be dumbed down by constant video games and TV. More time to eat, right? You’re going to balloon. No “plateau” or “Gradual gain”...you are going to be eating so much and moving so little, the pounds keep piling on. I’ll keep track for you...calories eaten, rising number of the scale, how heavy and wide your belly is getting. Getting wider than you are tall is the first step. Then comes outgrowing furniture. Your bed. Your car. Doorways. Chairs. You’ll know you are getting too fat, but admit it, hog. You’re too greedy to stop eating. You can just play with your blubber and count the new stretch marks that appear as you shove pizza slices into your gaping maw. No one will recognize you. Face hidden beneath a double and triple chin. Chest sagging down on your yoga-ball sized belly. Thighs thicker than tree trunks, a muffin top turning into full blown spare tires. Everyone will be wondering how it happened. How someone lets themselves get so fat. Get so unfit. They’ll wonder how long before you realize you need to diet? Or if you’ll just keep eating yourself into immobility, a bed-bound pile of blubber, burping and oinking and demanding more food, uncaring how you’ve let me destroy your body with food. Is that what you want, pig?