Look at yourself, fat ass. You need to lose some weight. A thin, beautiful, perfect child I will help you create. First we will start with one pound and by the time that's through it can't possibly be enough. So now we will push for two. The two pounds come and go, but you're still not pleased by what you see. So then I'll whisper in your ear "hey let's shoot for three". Pound after pound you will shed, but yet you yearn for more. So what's the harm I say. Our next goal will be four. Over the time you will get addicted. Four will turn into right and so you'll keep losing as you fuss about your weight. You look in the mirror and are unpleased with the fat protruding from your skin. Eight turns into sixteen. You just want to be thin. Oh hold on you're getting sick, but now you don't give a damn because now you're truly obsessed, you're scared of gaining just one gram and by now you've lost fifty pounds and you want to double that, but you don't see that you're getting deathly thin. You're the opposite of fat, but you don't see it, so you say, "a couple of pounds, just a few" and not much further on this disease has killed you. So people go to your funeral, and they cry as they play the last song...
