Seduced By a Fish (A Tail of Love and Extreme Obesity) *1*

Hey! I'm on a vacation, so that's why I haven't had time to write new chapters. But my friend and I were at the local Piggly Wiggly one day, laughing at the cheesy romance novels. It's especially fun to read the backs in Snape's voice. Anyways, we were inspired to write this. Not meant to be particularly funny nor taken seriously. Enjoy, and read it in your Snape voice! ~ C.K.

Created by cshesback on Sunday, April 10, 2011


Seduced By a Fish (A Tail of Love)

A novel of romance and extreme obesity

By C.K.
Chapter 1 -- A Whale of a Girl

“Dangit Bob, if you leave your dirty underwear on my bed one more time, I’m going to divorce you!” Melissa angrily threw the unsanitary garments onto her husband’s bed for what felt like the hundredth time. Of course, there was no response from the snoring lump under the covers that was her husband of one month, Bob.

With a sigh, Melissa sat down heavily on the covers, the dusty bed springs giving a groan at the large amount of weight they were now holding. Melissa was tired -- her day, and life in general, had not been going well. She had been laid off as a manicurist at Pretty Nail, and had not been able to find work anywhere, even at the local Waffle House. Her two cats -- Muffin and Mr. Peepers , whom she adored, had mysteriously disappeared one rainy night when Bob -- looking very suspicious -- had left with two laundry bags and told Melissa that he was going to the Laundromat. After this, the two animals had never been seen again. Melissa also resided in a heavily Amish community, and was the only one who thought this was completely and utterly stupid. I mean, we have technology! Use it!!!

To top it all off, her new husband Bob was not turning to be the man of her dreams that she had once believed he was. Over the past month that they had been living together, Bob had gained twenty pounds, overtaken Melissa weight of two hundred and twenty pounds. This offended her greatly, since she believed that since Bob was so morbidly obese, she must look the same. He had also a lot less helpful -- not once had he done the dishes, nor did he ever take out the laundry again except for that one fateful night. Yes, Bob was becoming very, very infuriating.

Melissa heaved another heavy sigh, struggling to get up from her comfy bed. She pulled on her worn house slippers -- each embroidered with dancing bunnies -- and shuffled into the bathroom for another demoralizing weigh-in that her new diet instructed she must do everyday.

As she shuffled to the scale, she caught a look of herself in the mirror. Ugh, she thought, I look awful. And she truly did -- with greasy hair that reached down to her elbows and resembled the fine hairs that decorate a rats behind, beady little eyes hidden behind a pair of very unfashionable wire-rimmed glasses, and a general overall unsavory appearance (Not to mention the rolls of fat billowing out of her shirt.) Melissa was just not the most attractive of women. Maybe Clinton Kelly’s “Oh No She Didn’t” wasn’t working so well after all.

“Why?” she screamed, dramatically falling to the floor and simultaneously overturning the small plastic scale on which she faced demoralizing results of her diet everyday. It landed with a clatter on the dirty linoleum floor, and she cursed her clumsiness as up righted the small scale. Looking at with slight hope in her eyes, she raised her foot, placing it as gingerly as her fat body would allow, onto the scale. She waited with bated breath as the devil of the scale took its time measuring the body mass the rivaled that of a young killer whale.

“Please,” she whispered, “Oh just once, let me lose weight. Maybe my life would different if I had a better body, like all the other seventeen year old Amish girls, someone sexy would truly love me.”

Just as the last words of her pitiful rant streamed from her mouth, numbers flashed briefly on the scale -- an unintelligible jumble -- the scale flashed ‘error’ then promptly broke in half. The contents of the simple -- yet so evil -- scale spilled out on to the bathroom floor, each screaming in their tiny, nonexistent voices “Melissa….Melissa…two hundred and twenty pounds too many.”

An anguished scream ripped from the back of Melissa -- much like Mr. Peepers when she dragged him through the sand on a leash. Fat tears spilled from her eyes, leaving trails upon her chubby cheeks. She ran out of the bathroom with as much grace as an injured rhinoceros, waking Bob up with another banshee-like yell.

“Wha?” Bob -- a fifty year old, balding man who tried to cover up his bald spot with a very old Amish hat -- emerged from sheets with a confused expression on his face. He looked with utter disgust. “Oh,” he said, burrowing into his covers. “It’s just you.”

Melissa gave a tragic moan, bounding out of the room in only her bath robe and embroidered bunny slippers, running through the modest one-story home and out the door.

The air was warm, the soft tones of morning just appearing over the distant mountainside. Though Melissa could not see the beauty -- how could she? Her life really sucked.

“What am I going to do now?“ Melissa howled, rampaging through her home’s little garden and trampling over all of the carefully tended flowers which Bob loved so dearly. More than me, Melissa thought, gazing down at them as the wrath of her foot fell upon another daisy, more than me.

In a hasty, split second decision, Melissa decided to venture out onto the ocean side. The ocean had always calmed her as a child -- unlike the other, insensitive Amish children who she attended school with -- the ocean was a caring and ever-kind friend. It too had weight problems, and would ever remain sympathetic to Melissa’s constant struggle with her weight and debilitating addiction to BuglesÓ . Yes, the ocean was Melissa’s only friend (Actually, the ocean secretly hated her with a deep passion, though she shall never know this.)

“Yes,” she whispered, hastily knotting her bathrobe as she strode out of the garden. “Let me end the pain.”

For secretly, a tragic and pitiable plan was forming in the back of her mind. Yes, it would be so simple. All she had to do was go to the cliff on the farthest side of the mountains, say her final goodbyes to the cruel and unloving world around her, the dramatically (As always.), fling her body off the cliff. Maybe then, she would finally have peace.

In a determined sort of manner that hopeless people can muster, Melissa stomped, her footsteps shaking the ground, toward the cliff. With each step, she grew more inclined with her decision.

When she reached the point where she was sure her life would be ended, she spotted three Amish schoolchildren -- they looked to be about eight years her junior -- playing “Throw Rocks at Each Other” on the edge of the cliff. She tried (and failed) to sneak unnoticed to the edge. However, this was very hard thing to accomplish, seeing as she resembled a moving house.

“Hey!” one of the kids said, pointing his finger at Melissa as his belt buckle glinted in the dawn’s pale light, “A beached whale!”

Melissa sighed. Of course, what a fitting way to leave this world. Humiliated.

“I’m not whale,” she said, giving them an annoyed glare. “Just leave me alone!” She fought the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

The kids laughed. “A talking whale!” they shouted, their faces glowing with delight. “Let’s throw rocks at it.” Promptly, the children their best stones, and hurled them at Melissa.

She turned away, facing the open space beyond the cliff. “How peaceful…” she murmured as a rock bounced off the back of her right buttock and causing it to rapidly jiggle.

And with a final look at the peaceful morning sky, she flung her body off of the cliff, ripples of fat smacking her face as she fell like a rock toward the waiting ocean.

And then she got a text message whilst plummeting to her death. “Free Falling” by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers blasted from the phone’s speakers.

“My first text message!” she screamed as another roll of fat promptly smacked her in her face, and couldn‘t help but smile. “Maybe I shouldn’t have jumped.”

With shaking hands, she opened the message. It was from Bob.

Get more Bugles while you’re out, you obese swine. I ate the last bag.

She gave another depressed sigh, looking down at the fast approaching waves.

“I REGRET NOTHING!” she shouted as she plummeted fat-first into the icy water.
Lol. I'm so random. :) Have a nice day.

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