Kimberley was feeling ill. She felt sick, like she almost wanted to vomit but not quite. She felt like that nearly all the time.
She made an appointment to see the doctor.
“Doctor,” she said, “I feel sick.”
“That’s because you’re fat,” said the doctor. “You should lose a bit of weight. Do something about it, and you won’t feel sick all the time. I repeat: you’re fat.”
Kimberley was outraged. “How dare the doctor call me fat!” she screamed. “How dare he!”
But she was fat. It’s just that the word “fat” is not an acceptable word to use of a person who is fat. She was fat, fat, fat. Fat as a saggy bag of pork fat gristle, oozing waves of slobbery overhanging ugly fat, fat, fat.
Kimberley sued the doctor and won. You should see her now that she can afford more food! She’s so fucking fat a bulldozer blade wouldn’t fit across her backside to push her somewhere else. She’s changed doctors, of course. The new one gives her a pill if she’s feeling queasy. He doesn’t dare tell her she’s a saggy bag of pork fat gristle, oozing waves of slobbery overhanging ugly fat, fat, fat.