Okay, so I've never really been good at "this" kind of thing. I suck at first impressions, so let me just lay everything down on the table for you right now:
My name is Melanie Carlyle, I'm a Saggitarius, I've got long blonde hair, and I'm fat.
In fact, I'm probably the biggest girl you'll ever meet. So 'fat' is kind of an understatement.
I'm huge.
The last time I weighed myself, I was somewhere around four hundred pounds. And my belly was so big that I had to get my little sister to look at the scale for me. I've put on three hundred pounds since my freshman year at prep school, and by the time I graduated I could barely fit through the front door. So yeah, I'm pretty fat.
I know, I know. Heart disease, diabetes, whatever. Who gives a crap. I love my body—and I mean I really love my body. Back in my Buttercombe Academy days, I was the hottest piece of ass to waddle down the hall, and it was because of my weight. You'd be surprised how many heads you can turn at my size.
The thing is? It's not enough.
I want to get bigger. Is that crazy?
I mean, I'm already the fattest girl I know. I spend more time eating than I have any right to, and it takes just as much food to feed my parents and my little sister to fill me up at any given meal—sometimes more. I love to eat. I love how people look at me when I waddle down the street. And, probably most importantly, I love the look on my Mom's face every time I break a chair or pop a button at the dinner table.
So the long and short of it is: my name's Mel Carlyle, and I want to get as fat as humanly possible.
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