Like god, do they have to enter my territory so often. This is MY restaurant, I have earned the right to be the only 447 pound person in the restaurant. It took hard work and dedication to get to my weight especially since I’m a respectable 5 foot five.

Other fat people know the rules that they have to mark the territory by clogging the toilet to the point it overflows. You have to make the restaurant staff groan at the sight of you. When your the alpha of the restaurant you have to make your presence known at all time it’s from coughing, obnoxiously or breathing super loud they must know you’re there.

But anyways, another fat person waddled into my territory. They started a loudest breathing competition, where one has to breathe more obnoxiously than the other. They had the audacity to start sweating from eating to fast. This a blatant sign of disrespect and I will not tolerate it.
Of course because it’s my restaurant I know exactly what to order to scare them off.

I ordered half a dozen very spicy tacos. Then I ordered chicken nachos and drowned them in hot sauce. Truly adds to the flavor of my creation. Finally after I digest I can feel the beauty of the atmosphere destroying fart I would created. It was a wet but hot fart, one that hurt on the way out. I didn’t move a bit as it was leaving my body. I formed an orchestra. It didn’t disappoint, it came out in 3 musical pieces. It was a real leather staining fart. I could tell that my opponent could he had lost from the moment he smelt my wonderful creation. When the city buster hit his nose it was as if he was punched in the nose. Although I did feel bad about making this fart as it did make 3 kids cry 2 people pass out and the waiter closest to me vomit and than fall to the ground with my desert.

I believe it’s safe to say that I won this war and reclaimed my territory. For that waiters troubles I left her a nice 5% tip for the wonderful service. Although I don’t believe she deserved the full 7% as she did drop my desert.