Fat Stewart and the Crisp Confrontation

[hierachy]

Fat Stewart had always been overweight. He had also always been tormented because of it. As he stood waiting in the queue at his local shop, looking down at the immaculately polished floor reflecting the lights overhead, and feeling the breeze of ceiling fans glide down the collar of his tripple extra large T-shirt, his mind began to wander.

He remembered how all through school he was bullied about his weight. Of course, his name being ‘Fat Stewart’ didn’t help a great deal–the bullies didn’t even have to invent a nickname; he remembered the time when the bus driver made him buy two tickets, because he took up so much space; he remembered the time some drunks thought it would be funny to push him down a hill, to see if he would roll like a ball (he did); he remembered–

“Next, please!” The pretty young cashier smiled at him.

Placing his basket by the till, Fat Stewart shook away his bad memories–they were in the past.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” Said Stewart.

“If you say so, Sir,” replied the cashier, her smile still strapped to her face–Stewart mused that it looked fake enough to have been bought at a cheap joke store, and found the idea hilarious.

As if she had read his thoughts, the cashier’s expression suddenly turned into a frown.

“Do you have proof of weight, Sir?” She asked.

“What?”

“Proof of weight.” She waved a packet of crisps in front of him, they were from his shopping, “I can’t sell you these without proof.”

“What the devil are you talking about?”

In reply, she merely pointed. He followed the line of her finger and his eyes came to rest upon a sign. It read:

In the interests of health, it is shop policy not to sell excessively fatty products to the obese. If you look overweight, please do not be offended if our staff ask you for proof of weight.

“You do look more than just a little bit fat, sir,” added the cashier.

On that day, fat Stewart vowed to fight whomever it was necessary for his right to buy those crisps. The assistant, the manager, the company, the little boy at the chocolate stand, the army, the world, even God himself… but he died of a heart attack on the way home.

[CovenantJr]

Haven't I read this before? Hmm...

[hierachy]

Probably. I posted it on my blog some months ago.

[Loredoctor]

Hilarious!