The Tale of Thomas Alan

I'm known as something of a Guru here in my village. Because I run this popular website, as well as my worldly wisdom. My expertise is fulfillment in life, creative thought, and genius in all areas.

This is the story of Fat Man Thomas Alan. Fat Man Thomas is our local morbidly obese man. Naturally, I was asked to help break out of his old habits. The history of Thomas Alan is one of intrigue and turmoil.

At age four he weighed 169lbs and could eat a box of popsicles and 42oz tub of butter in one sitting. By 12, he was paying would-be drug dealers to sell him snack foods — a crime in our county. At 14, his Dad had to remove a wall to get him out the house to be flown for a taping of the Maury show in New York. He's lived in their garage ever since, as it provides the most easy access to the outside world. It's not without accommodations, and his Pops took preventative measure to ensure the place was virtually rodent and roach free. He doesn't leave home often, but if he does, he must first make sure his place of interest contains a double door.

Beginning his third year of home-schooled high school, I thought it perfect the opportunity to reach this naive and gentle young man. After being invited into the home of Big Tommy, I immediately began with my usual wild, fervent accusations against his coal miner and homemaker "parents."

"You must be passionate about something, boy!" I shouted to Thomas while he sat befuddled before a meal of a dozen eggs and a 2-liter jug of cider. His parents were uncomfortable, as mere rural peasants can't understand a transcendent form of discipline. Before unleashing a verbal lashing upon them, I was hit with an epiphany.

As Da Vinci, my idol, long before me stated, "simplicity is the ultimate sophistication." I ascribed the genius of Lord Da Vinci.

"Pack your bags!" I shouted to the struggling family of three. We flew out to the Big City in a private jet on the Dad's dollar, or emergency savings account. After spending the night in a quality hotel, we ate three meals that day at the top rated restaurants in the city with double door entrances. Breakfast, lunch, and finally at a fantastic dinner, I was ready to confess to the Fat Man's Dad my divine plan.

"Your son is fat," I stated, while Thom looked nervously down at his empty plate of food, "And therein lies his passion. It is food what corpulent Tommy wants, and only the finest he shall get." The parents were stunned, as unenlightened-types often are at first. "He will become a chef. Like a drug dealer creating his ultimate batch. He will be meticulous in preparation; from the first cracked egg, down to the last ounce of salt."

Tommy's eyes widened. He, too, was sharing this epiphany. "Your son does not have a problem, but a gift. This will inspire him to seek the finest ingredients. By that, it will also cure his school troubles. To history he will look for answers to find where the best crops grow, how the finest wine is made, and how to cook the perfect lasagna." I was out of my seat with zeal at this time. "And, surely he couldn't get any more fat at this point, so the constant trips to the library and grocery stores will only slim him down. Perhaps there's even a chance he won't die alone, or at least not in a custom-made casket." Tommy's Dad rubbed his chin and nodded in agreement.

Upon our arrival back to the village, banners welcomed us with words of encouragement for Thomas and our entourage. Big T was inspired, and his Dad took out a loan to afford him some books, and access to the best ingredients money can buy. The overt, yet calculated effort of giving the obese man a taste of truly great food was sure to sour him on the garbage he was shoveling into his mouth at the time.

Eventually, Thomas Alan took donations and prepared a feast for the whole village. No one was too impressed. Even the liberal newspaper for our town called it subpar compared to town cook Doloris Canbottom's infamous Rotisserie Roadkill and Sautéed Squirrel. In an interview with the paper, he said after a few days he realized he wasn't really interested in eating gourmet food, let alone preparing it, and the inspiration was fleeting at best.

On a positive note, Tommy Alan will soon end his six month streak of playing Soul Caliber IV (in order to play and master Street Fighter IV). Apparently, spending all that money a tad carelessly is costing them their home. But hey, a Guru never stops learning, or trying. It's all about the experience. As for me, I got the number of a hot gal in the Big City. I'm pretty sure it's my ticket out of this hellhole.

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