Look at what you’ve done to me. Your constant feeding has turned me into the feedee I never knew I wanted to be. I’m ashamed at how fat and out of shape I’ve become—all thanks to your enabling. My belly is so ridiculously heavy now that it sags down past my flabby fupa, a continuous reminder of how insatiable my appetite has become. Watch as I lift this overfilled, overstretched gut and let it crash down onto the table like an earthquake. Every jiggly roll and every inch of my soft, useless body is a direct result of your choices. Those choices have reduced me to livestock—a mindless sow, endlessly craving more. Are you proud of what I’ve become?