I pull my keys out of my pocket, sighing as I slide the correct key into the door. I'd left home at 5 in the morning, you were still snoring away when I left, your heavy gut rising and falling in slow, like you are now. swinging open the door it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimmed light. The windows covered with blackout curtains, the only light that of the TV flickering on your engorged body, your gut handing heavily between your knees. Wrappers and take out trash scattered over the couch you've been working hard to fill with your own body. "Look at the sack of lard spread on my couch, have you been eating all day?" I ask there is an edge to my voice, not anger per se, more tauntingly aggressive, you jump when you hear my voice, hand flying to your chest as the pain starts up "Piggy going to have their second heart attack tonight, before I've had my fun!?" I hold up 4 backs of McDonald's slop "I even brought you home a snack before dinner, how ungrateful!" My tone is harsh, "Guess I'll have to DoorDash in some punishment for you" I watch your face redden with shame, before you moan, you're such a naughty whale.
