Jonathan

A fatty followed me in the supermarket today. I think he must of entered just after me, whilst I was standing checking out the papers. I turned around and saw him. He was more than fat, he had gone far beyond simple fatness into some horrible obesity where his legs and arms and head seemed merely mutant growths upon the rotund blob that was his stomach.

As soon as I saw his corpulent mass heaving into view I thought, "Oh God, I bet that guy stinks". Sure enough as I tried to quickly pass his massive bulk, which occupied almost the entire aisle, I caught a whiff of a wretched sweaty musk emanating from the direction of fatso's armpits and God knows what other areas. Fighting the urge to gag I made haste to grab the few items I needed from that aisle and move out of the blobman's vicinity and smell-range. I figured that the level of food purchase needed to sustain that awful weight would mean a slow pace around the shelves, as he stocked up on every type of food he could.

I was wrong, little sooner had I turned the corner than his giant bulk came ambling around as well. A moment of sheer horror then, as I grabbed a pack of yoghurts from the shop fridge and hastened onward. And yet I could not escape the fatso. It was as if some kind of reverse gravity was pulling his gigantic belly ever towards me. I dashed around the shop, grabbing items and quickly stuffing them into my basket. And no matter where I turned, there was fatty, seemingly always at my shoulder as I raced onward, terrified of smelling that revolting stench again. I couldn't have been in the shop more than three of four minutes, yet it seemed like an eternity of blubber filled horror.

At last though, I seemed to have lost him. I carried my filled basket to the checkout, and was relieved to find one with no queue. I swiftly placed my basket down and began to unload the items, when I spied something in the corner of my eye. It was fatso, he homed into view like an oil tanker upon a mountain stream, blotting out the sun, and making small children cry and priests renounce their faith in realisation that no benevolent God could allow such an awful thing to be. My horror redoubled, was he following me? Had he noticed my attempts to flee his rotten odour, and was now pursuing me to inflict it on me threefold? What sort of sick mind lurked behind that jelly face? I struggled to quickly bag-up my purchases as soon as the cashier scanned them, even as I noticed that fatso himself had only bought a handful of items. How so? Had he been in such a rush to follow me that even his gross appetite had been put on hold, or perhaps, I wondered in dawning terror, could something else be on the menu? Could he really be planning to eat me?

Normally I would have ridiculed such cannibal paranoia, but the events of the past few minutes, and the terrifying sight and smell of fatso had left me clinging to mere shreds of sanity. I had to escape the mad fat bastard's clutches. I raced to pay, even as the toxic stench of the blob's body invaded my nostrils and brought me feel close to fainting. Not daring even to look upon the rotund thing I grabbed my bags and shot for the door, and freedom. As I passed through the anti-theft barriers and out into the world, I fancied I felt a movement in the air just behind my head, as if giant pair of jaws had reached out to consume me, and snapped shut just a hair's breadth short. I dared not look back, and strived to swiftly put some distance between myself and the store.

At last I judged it safe enough to spare a glance backwards and, seeing I was not purused, slowed my pace and breathed a sigh of relief. I felt the cool, clear outdoors air fill my lungs and cleanse them of the stinking fatty-sweat infected gases, it had been a narrow escape.