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By Ava Lindt Estimated Length: 3-4 minutes (Lindsay walks on stage, in sort of baggy clothes to hide her "fatness." She looks obviously underfed with bags under her eyes, her hands are clasped tightly. She stops center stage and puts on a fake smile, then she proceeds to tell her story) Okay, so I was eating dinner last night, normal as can be, and my mom asks me if I am puking up my food. I don't know what to say to her, I mean, I don't actually puke all of it up. Just some of it... but it's not what you think. I was just thinking, ya know, if I didn't eat so much bad stuff then maybe I would lose some of this excess weight. Let's face it! I'm fat. I don't have a flat stomach, my thunder thighs are SO obvious when I wear shorts, and it doesn't hurt to puke up at least some food. I mean most of the time it's only one meal a day. Like, dinner. You don't need that food anyway, it just rots in your body and you never can metabolize it so you just get fat from it. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, I just want to look like everyone else and I am willing to make sacrifices. I just don't want to be this fat chunk of lard wobbling her big butt down the beach. Is that too much to ask? (Kicks off her shoes and walks over to a scale. Stepping on it, she falls down. She tries to get up but can't. She starts laughing) I feel sorta weak. It must have been that horrible fried chicken my mom practically stuffed in my mouth last night. I couldn't get it out again. (tries to get up again) Heh.. silly me. I can't believe this. (tries to get up for the last time, starts to laugh, but cries instead) What is wrong with me? All week! I can't do simple things like do homework without falling asleep or falling down or feeling weak. I should start eating better. No more pasta for you, Lindsay! Let's try that scale again. (uses all her might to get up, and finally does)Whew!(steps on scale)110 pounds. And look at me, I'm still a whale. I feel so ugly! (groans, and walks to the center of the stage.) I guess I'll never be skinny. Or pretty for that matter. (long pause) That was my mom. (yells) Okay mom! What are we having? (pause) Steak? Ugh. That's like 80 grams of fat. I'm going to be such a cow. (stomps out the door) |