Fat people suck. I hate them almost as much as I hate dancing and parties. They are literally a drain on society. They increase wear and tear on our roads, walkways, public transportation, and food industry by virtue of their fatness. Did you ever wonder why restaurants don’t offer Small, Medium, and Large anymore? It’s because the fatties decided that Large wasn’t big enough. Normal people have to order the Large now; the fatties need to choose between, “Extra Large” and, “Gargantuan” portions to satisfy the bottomless abyss that is their stomachs. I have nothing against fat people who don’t care they’re fat. Hey, if you’re fine weighing 500 pounds and having to pay blind and deaf prostitutes to get sex, more power to you. My ire is deserved for the Self-Entitled Fatty, who shall hereafter be referred to as SEF.

SEF’s believe that their fatness is not their fault. They believe they are the victims of a vast, McDonald’s funded media conspiracy to get them to eat more. They believe they are unfortunate, mewling infants and should be allowed special treatment and consideration on account of their terrible “disease.” Disease? Are you fucking kidding? The day obesity became a handicap was the day that any hope mankind had for achieving anything worthwhile died. Exactly how in the fuck is eating so much food that you become a fat sack of lard a “handicap?” I have an idea to lose weight. My revolutionary new diet is going to blow Atkins and everything else out of the water. My diet is called, “Stop Eating You Fucking Fatty.” If you want to lose weight, I have a very simple program for you: stop eating. You don’t need to eat that stick of butter in the fridge. Every night. Additionally, and god fucking forbid that I would be so insane as to suggest this, you could try running. You will be totally fucking amazed at how quickly the pounds melt off if you just do some physical activity other than clicking the remote or sighing wistfully because that chicken leg is all the way across the room.

I hate these people. I have to deal with them every day at work. The fucking sacks of bloated flesh who believe that the world rotates on its axis solely to propel their fat asses through space. They’ll waddle into my store, huffing and puffing at the two degree incline and at the monstrous effort required to open the door. Then they’ll stampede through the aisles, knocking shit over with their huge layers of fat spilling over their pants, in a mad rush to get to that last Snickers bar. They can’t even wait to get to the counter before they devour their chocolately delight. They’ll tear the wrapper off like a starving Ethiopian who just magically teleported into the store. By the time they walk up to the counter, the bar is 3/4th’s gone, and they’ll warble out, “One snickers bar” in between their smacking and crunching, the chocolate spilling out of the sides of their mouth. They’ll hand me some crumpled up bills with their fat, sausage fingers moving involuntarily in a chocolate-related moment of pleasure. It makes me want to fucking puke. The worst is when it’s teenage fatties with an overinflated sense of their own self-worth. They will wear skin-tight clothes with slogans like, “PORN STAR” on them, their rolls of fat spilling over their waistband. I literally have to swallow the bile as it rises up into my mouth when these bipedal cows walk up to the counter. Didn’t anyone tell them they look like lumpy shit? On what planet did they think it was a good idea to show off their disgustingly fat bodies?

Now you may be saying, “Come on man, how could they possibly dress in a manner that would look good?” It is indeed possible for a fat chick to dress properly. There was an Indian girl at my highschool who was somewhat fat (but not a SEF), but she knew she was a little overweight. She would dress in a way so as to minimize her fatness and highlight the good parts of her body, namely her cute face, massive tits and nice ass. On a good day she left a trail of stiffies in her wake, and many deep feelings of confusion in the borderline-retarded male population as to how someone less than 90 pounds could be sexually arousing. Of course, she was also very smart, which is much more than I can expect from most teenage females.

By far the worst example of a fatty being a drain on society was when a person ROLLED into my store. Yes, a fatty literally came into my store in a fucking MOTORIZED WHEELCHAIR. How the fuck lazy do you have to be to think you’re above walking? Unreal. They buzzed back to where the drinks were (I could literally hear the chair creaking and groaning under the industrial-sized strain), and tried to get a drink out of the cooler. They huffed and puffed in vain at the stress of having to lean slightly forward in their chair, before yelling for me to come back there. They proceeded to berate me about how the store was not handicap accessible. I broke another molar as I clenched my jaw shut in an effort to avoid saying things that would get me fired, as I do many times every day. I handed the fat ass their GALLON of Iced Tea, rang them out, and then proceeded to jam thumb tacks into my balls in order to numb the pain of having to deal with the fat ass.

Since fat people have collectively cheated us out of thousands of tons of food, I propose that we make it legal to hunt and kill fat people, once per year. The ground rules are we must be on foot, and use spears. If the fatties are capable of outrunning us, they will have earned their right to survive for another year. If they are too slovenly and slow to escape us, they will be skewered by our gleaming implements of death and brought down like a woolly mammoth. We will then proceed to dress, skin, and cook the fat person. Years of muscle inactivity will ensure a particularly flavorful and tender dish.