Well, I'm alive. In-between some shenanigans and some other things, someone managed to send me a message, and I thought: Why not draft up something right quick for fat purposes. This is the result of that, and here you go. As per usual, if you can't read the story, it's in the comment:


The following has been collected and composed from events taken from all the direct sources. Journals, interviews with those present, during the great Food Fiasco, and the art, music, and various literary works inspired by those time. This is in no way to make light of, or diminish in any way the experiences of those involved. That said: We at the Fatty Coalition of America hope you enjoy the following reading.

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“It came in the morning, it swept through the streets!
Oh so, delectable, it smelled so sweet!
But what was it? Oh, what could it be?
Not rain, not snow, and not sleet.
Who could say? Not you, and not me, certainly!

All was still, and all was calm,
‘Til a great big whooping noise sounded the call!
Across the city, went the noise, the whole land it swept!
Every fur and every kind found themselves woke,
Only to find that a sudden silence had broke.

And then they all came; not one by one.
After all, it was Jello--and one by one? Not fun.
The people they blinked, confusion lighting their faces,
As jellos, and jams, and pastries began to start filling their places.

It rained donuts in the street,
And there were rivers of gravy and meat,
In a moment, the world had been transformed into something good enough to eat.
And why this was? No one could say.
But after some time, it seemed the food was here to stay.

Of course there was speculation, doubts to abound,
Of all this food that had made way to ground,
But as time passed, with questions asked,
And no answer coming fast,
It seemed that there’d be an end to some and their unwanted fast.

For you see, the world was an unwieldy and cruel place!
Not all were quite fortunate to be able to feed their face.
But in this place and this time, through means unknown but divine,
Food at last! Food at last! It was here at last.
Starving was a thing of the past.

Especially for one such heroine, all spots and golden fur,
Anita the Cheetah, (Surely her parents hated her!)

A wisp of a girl. All limbs and bones, and her hanging fur coat,
She looked less a cheetah, and more of a craggy old goat!
But such a thing changed, as once this day came.
Food, food, galore!
“Her hunger?” She said. “HAH! Nevermore!”

So off she went to go and enjoy this gift from the sky,
Too busy to even think to consider why.
She ate every meal, and ate every day,
Ate every food prepared in every such way.

Deep fried turkey, and gravy rivers,
Who ordered pizza any more? The sky would deliver!
All the food she could ever want and more,
Could anyone blame her, if she let her gluttony drive forward?

At first, all this food? Well, it made her grow firm,
But soon all her eating would take a different turn,
She woke up one day, and something wasn’t quite right,
No, certainly not, when her clothes had gone tight,

All this food, was bloating form,
And the way she ate, there would only be more,
Of this, her growing, and also her eating,
But for now, she worried no, for “Life is too fleeting,”

So on and on, she continued to eat,
Sweets, and good treats, and delectable meats,
And all the while, she steady kept growing,
Even so, she pretended not knowing,
Of the inevitable damage, the roundage and poundage,
That all of which, in her considerable feasting, was definitely found in.

Her belly it grew big, so pleasingly plump,
Of course the same could be sade, for wobbling rump,
And cantaloupes and watermelons, well they could hardly describe,
The new bouncing cleavage, which she took in great stride.

“Sure,” She said, beginning reasoning in her head.
“It’s natural to grow so big and so round,
After all! It’s not like I’m the only one fattening up in town.”

And truer words had never been spoken, the food that came from the sky,
Well it had definitely broken,
The world as furs knew it, was not a skinny place,
No, in fact it was growing, especially around the waist!

Anita herself, however, well she was spectacular,
Her gorging knew no bounds, no words to describe it in any vernacular.
She ate and she ate. It was all that she did,
And no amount of clothing, would help or hold, or keep her rounding fat hid,

Where she had once been skinny, she now was rotund!
Eating her way, surely to a good solid ton.
Not there of course, no there were many meals to go,
But she would soon be there, when her scale read aloud, “FIVE-FIVE-OH.”

She was surely magnificent, no longer a wellp,
With plenty of food, and no harm to her health,
There was no stopping her from ballooning more than the coffers of the commonwealth,

Perfectly round, wider than tall,
Every day she was closer, to wanting it all,
The food, the food, the food.
She needed the food, its siren song, giving an alluring call.

A call given, a call answered,
In the words of an era gone by,
“She was fatter than a whale sir!”
Not necessarily true, but the facts came as they were,

She soon became staggering, a true wonder to behold,
A moving, sagging ocean of plentiful fat folds,
Her countenance was more akin to a living gelatin mold!
Sandbags for legs,
Grandbags on her chest,
A testament, a mountain of fatty fox flesh,

She was too wide to fit through doors, and soon after too wide to leave the floor,
Her fat soon keeping her pinned, forevermore,
She was stuck from then on,
A monument to greed.

And it was her fate from that day forward, to do nothing but eat.