>>2546A bakery? Hm. At your size it might just be the last trip you take. I've rented a mobility van. You just walk up this ramp, like the cattle you are. Sit on the bench seat in the back. Your flabby form is much too wide for seat belts, but you're wedged up against the front seats, so it's safe enough. Here, have a sandwich for the trip. I know you're hungry.
When we arrive five minutes later, the bakery has its closed sign out. Just when you start to tear up, I slowly lead you inside. The staff is all here, pastries are being baked. I lead you to a wide park bench someone brought in.
"I had them close the place to focus on baking for you." I explain. Just then, the first cart rolls out, loaded down with cakes, cookies, pastries and rolls. You smile at the baker who brought it in, then turn and begin ravenously attacking the sweets. Food disappears of the cart in a flash of flab. You look worried as the first cart empties. You still need more, don't you?
"Mmph... More... Uh, sweet things please!" You beg to a baker. Two more carts roll in, loaded with pies and donuts.
I sit and watch you scarf down everything in sight. You have what some might call food brain. You just eat and want more, your smarts slipping from lack of use. You struggle to name what you're even eating. "Pastry" and "Doughnut" are forgotten words, abandoned in favor of "MORE FOOD".
"More food!" You call, as carts 4 and 5 approach.
Yes, fatty. " More food" for you.