FatElvis
01-07-2013, 10:21 PM
I wrote this piece about my psychological relationship with french fries. Hope you enjoy it!
(Criticism Appreciated) :)
The Inner Workings of A Fatty
I had been afflicted with a perpetually upset stomach perversely juxtaposed by a ravenous appetite. In an attempt to remedy my extreme hunger I had taken to going out and buying french fries from McDonald's everyday, and on occasion multiple times per day. In fact I ate them so frequently that I sometimes forgot if I had been out to buy them that day or not. However, I knew not long ago I must have purchased fries, because a fresh sack laid by my bed. I hugged the bag close to my body and quickly ate every french fry inside. I must have eaten too quickly because my stomach again made sour noises and hit me with incredible pain. I fell back in my bed and winced as my guts were poisoned from the inside out. After some time I mercifully lost consciousness and fell into a deep but disturbed sleep.
When I awoke it was again with the sharp pains in my stomach demanding my full attention. Finding the pain unbearable I begged my parents to send for a physician, and reluctantly they complied. While I was waiting for the medic to come I felt around my own torso and noticed a large, hard lump inside my gut. I fretted, worrying I had developed some kind of cancer and would soon expire, but decided to wait for a professional opinion before delving into a full-fledged panic. The doctor came after several excruciating hours and immediately wanted to examine my belly. However I would not let him look at the bare flesh of my stomach because of the shame I felt at my obesity. I did allow him to feel around the area containing the most severe pain, but he claimed unable to feel the lump that seemed so evident to me. Sensing this man would be of no assistance, I let him leave and turned over in my bed, hoping to at least shift the pain writhing inside me. On the shelf near my bed I saw another bag of french fries, (no doubt left as a get-well present from my parents), and ate them all. After eating I experienced a short respite that allowed me to drift off into slumber.
I awoke the next morning in terrible shape: bloated, uncomfortable, and with a mood so dour that I not only wished death upon myself but every living being on this accursed planet. I moaned, and hearing me, my parents entered into my room and asked if I needed anything. Remembering the relief I felt by eating the previous night I asked as sweetly as I could for more french fries, at which my parents disappeared assume-ably to retrieve them for me. The pain in my stomach was getting more and more intense, so bad that I was seeing flashes of white light and had trouble breathing. Just when I thought I might pass out from the agony a new sharp pain tore along the front side of my body as if I were being pulled apart at the seams. I heaved while my belly swelled up and down with each agonizing breath. My weak, trembling hands clumsily pulled at the buttons of my shirt, trying to release some of the hot searing pain into the cool room air. When my shirt had been opened and I'd seen what had been hiding under my garments, I forgot all pain instantly.
My belly had ruptured revealing intricate metal machinery grinding away beneath my ribs. I could see a constant motion going on inside, as if I were looking at the oiled gears of a clock-tower. Before I could comprehend what I saw, a small figure climbed out from beneath the inner workings of the machinery. The creature resembled a human almost as much as it did a frog, forming a combined grotesque caricature of the two. In its green, shimmering fingers it held something I had hitherto enjoyed, but from now on would only be seen as a symbol of the sickness lurking inside myself. The creature extended its green hands to me, proudly holding its ghastly prize to my face. I could no longer think, no longer affix any reason at all; for the stinking things an inch from my nose were none other than the delectable treasure of my life: a bag of McDonald's french fries!
Apologies for sharing this in the wrong forum before!
(Criticism Appreciated) :)
The Inner Workings of A Fatty
I had been afflicted with a perpetually upset stomach perversely juxtaposed by a ravenous appetite. In an attempt to remedy my extreme hunger I had taken to going out and buying french fries from McDonald's everyday, and on occasion multiple times per day. In fact I ate them so frequently that I sometimes forgot if I had been out to buy them that day or not. However, I knew not long ago I must have purchased fries, because a fresh sack laid by my bed. I hugged the bag close to my body and quickly ate every french fry inside. I must have eaten too quickly because my stomach again made sour noises and hit me with incredible pain. I fell back in my bed and winced as my guts were poisoned from the inside out. After some time I mercifully lost consciousness and fell into a deep but disturbed sleep.
When I awoke it was again with the sharp pains in my stomach demanding my full attention. Finding the pain unbearable I begged my parents to send for a physician, and reluctantly they complied. While I was waiting for the medic to come I felt around my own torso and noticed a large, hard lump inside my gut. I fretted, worrying I had developed some kind of cancer and would soon expire, but decided to wait for a professional opinion before delving into a full-fledged panic. The doctor came after several excruciating hours and immediately wanted to examine my belly. However I would not let him look at the bare flesh of my stomach because of the shame I felt at my obesity. I did allow him to feel around the area containing the most severe pain, but he claimed unable to feel the lump that seemed so evident to me. Sensing this man would be of no assistance, I let him leave and turned over in my bed, hoping to at least shift the pain writhing inside me. On the shelf near my bed I saw another bag of french fries, (no doubt left as a get-well present from my parents), and ate them all. After eating I experienced a short respite that allowed me to drift off into slumber.
I awoke the next morning in terrible shape: bloated, uncomfortable, and with a mood so dour that I not only wished death upon myself but every living being on this accursed planet. I moaned, and hearing me, my parents entered into my room and asked if I needed anything. Remembering the relief I felt by eating the previous night I asked as sweetly as I could for more french fries, at which my parents disappeared assume-ably to retrieve them for me. The pain in my stomach was getting more and more intense, so bad that I was seeing flashes of white light and had trouble breathing. Just when I thought I might pass out from the agony a new sharp pain tore along the front side of my body as if I were being pulled apart at the seams. I heaved while my belly swelled up and down with each agonizing breath. My weak, trembling hands clumsily pulled at the buttons of my shirt, trying to release some of the hot searing pain into the cool room air. When my shirt had been opened and I'd seen what had been hiding under my garments, I forgot all pain instantly.
My belly had ruptured revealing intricate metal machinery grinding away beneath my ribs. I could see a constant motion going on inside, as if I were looking at the oiled gears of a clock-tower. Before I could comprehend what I saw, a small figure climbed out from beneath the inner workings of the machinery. The creature resembled a human almost as much as it did a frog, forming a combined grotesque caricature of the two. In its green, shimmering fingers it held something I had hitherto enjoyed, but from now on would only be seen as a symbol of the sickness lurking inside myself. The creature extended its green hands to me, proudly holding its ghastly prize to my face. I could no longer think, no longer affix any reason at all; for the stinking things an inch from my nose were none other than the delectable treasure of my life: a bag of McDonald's french fries!
Apologies for sharing this in the wrong forum before!