Fatanon 1

>You are Anonymous.
>You are fat.
>Not chubby, not big-boned, not stocky, just fucking fat.
>There is no justification for this, you just like to eat, and who could blame you with so many damn delicious types of food out there?
>You want to exercise, but there's no motivation to. Your office job doesn't require you to be in shape, and your friends have no fucks to give.
>Sometimes living on your own gets kinda lonely, but you always call up your bro to go hang whenever it gets to you.
>For a fatass you lead a pretty good life.
>You've got a car, an apartment, internet, vidya, TV, and your aforementioned friends.
>Problem is you aren't really going anywhere.
>You figure, why get a doctorate in something when you can just keep working for a living?
>Still, it bugs you every now and again, kind of like it is right now.
>You just got off the bus from your workplace, and you're looking around at all the construction going on in front of your apartment complex.
>There's an entire chunk of parking lot just pulled out of the ground where you usually walked towards the building, and a bunch of dudes in reflective crap are running around screaming at each other.
>Your jimmies are pretty rustled, but that part of the parking lot WAS crap, so it's not that big of a deal.
>You decide to just suck it up like a man and make your way around the orange tape cutting you off from all the work.
>Then you hear it...
"AAGGGHH!"
>Looking towards the scream, it only takes you a second to process that a man was on the ground bleeding, a jackhammer stuck in the ground next to him and going apeshit without anyone to hold onto it.
>You move like a man possessed, ducking under the tape and waddling to the injured man with a speed you thought you lost long ago.
>By the time you reach him you feel like you're about to collapse and die.
>'God,' you lament to yourself, 'Why do I have to love Twinkies so much?'
>The guy is in bad shape. He's holding onto his leg and screaming like a little bitch, and you can't blame him because that's fucking bright red blood gushing out of his lower thigh.
>You're not a doctor, but you know that means he hit an artery, and he only has a few minutes left to live.
>The man's life is literally in your hands.
>You're not even sure how the injury happened in the first place.
>"HELP!"
>You see a couple more construction workers start to run over, but the guy has stopped screaming.
>He looks like he's about to pass out.
>Not good, if you don't do something NOW he'll die.
>"Shitshitshitshitshit."
>You fall to your knees next to him and grab that gay ass reflective gear he has on.
>You're in full on panic mode as you rip the reflective vest from him.
>Jimmies at maximum rustle.
>Heart beating like the wings of a God damn humming bird.
>The vest finally gives and you pull it tight in your hands before wrapping it around his upper thigh.
>The construction workers finally make it over.
>You growl in frustration, "Get me a fuckin' stick or something!"
>You don't know who, but someone shoves a small metal pry bar into your hands.
>You waste no time tying the tournaqit and pushing the pry bar through it.
>You're about to pass out now, but you hold strong, giving the pry bar a few hard twists.
"The bleeding stopped!"
"I'll call an ambulance!"
>You take a deep breath, falling back on your ass as the construction workers scramble about to pick up where you had left off.
>You start to laugh.
>Never in a million years did you think this would happen to you.

>Then you see it...
>One of the workers goes to turn off the jackhammer that was going apeshit.

>With a loud clunk the tool stops dead in its tracks, the sudden force of the stop dislodging a piece of asphalt and sending it straight at your face.

>Fuck your life.
>BRAIN.exe has stopped working.
-------
>You like to think there's a place people go after they die, but honestly, who can be sure?
>Trying to make sense of things that are bigger than you isn't a good pass time in your opinion.
>Especially considering how big you are.
"... is that?"
"...ever... like it."
>'I almost died today, maybe I should start exercising.'
"Oh, it moved."
>'Maybe I am dead, in which case I won't have to exercise. Then how am I thinking this if I'm dead? Does that mean this is heaven... or hell?'
"Fluttershy, don't get too close, it might eat you!"
"Oh Rainbow Dash, it's okay, he looks hurt and might need our help."
"How the hay can you tell it's a he? It looks like a blob with a face to me."
"Oh please Darling, you of all people know about Fluttershy's experience with animals."
"This isn't your run of the mill animal."
"Rainbow is right, I've never seen anything like this, even at the library in Canterlot."
>It's around this time you deduce that yes, those voices are talking about you, and yes, you are awake.
>Which means you're alive.
>You draw in air, and realize that your laying on grass.
>When you open your eyes, you're face to face with wide blue irises.
>Wider than humanly possible.
>And the pink.
>Oh God you haven't seen so much pink since that feminist came to lecture at your workplace.
>God that woman was a cunt.
>Then you associate the pink with the fur, and the poofy mane, and the tail, and the muzzle.
"Hi! I'm Pinkie Pie! Wanna be friends Mr. Blob?"
>"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"