For The Gods

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Paralysis had set in, but not in the typical form which so many were used to and weapt over. If he could raise his arms and celebrate he would have, for complete and total immobility had just set in. He had gotten so ludicrously obese, so incredibly fat, so immensely overweight, that even turning his head was nearly impossible. The striped whales which had once been his arms sat uselessly on a ninety degree angle, where his rolls had made him more than thirteen times as wide as he was tall. Legs were something he hadn’t seen in months, and were covered by the invariable sea of fat he had become. An offering of pure lard to the beast which threatened to consume their whole town, and now thanks to the efforts of both many feeders and the feline pig who are like there was no tomorrow, they had that.

 

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