Keep out of reach from children, the label read.
It looked tasty, though. Smooth, rich, colored purple.
“Divine… “, Mabel sighed.
She had already consumed four hamburgers with extra fries.
“But I had it with diet-coke… “, she licked her lips while uncapping the container. It smelled a bit strange, fruity but tangier than sweet.
“I deserve a desert… “, Mabel scooped the content with porky fingers and stuffed her face.
She tried chewing but her mouth filled with pink froth and her face turned had turned puce as her unbearably slender daughter Maggie-Mae entered.
“Ma… have you devoured all my shampoo… again?“
I focused on the text in the foreground rather than ice-cream at first, and somehow this gave me the idea for this weird story, which maybe could be seen as tragi-comic… poor obese illiterate Mabel.
Rochelle pulls us all into this weird…
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