Stuffed by Eric Walters

Chapter One
    The credits started rolling up the screen. Behind the credits were pictures of people— overwhelmingly overweight people with rolls of fat bulging over jeans and busting out of tops, with triple chins, and wearing clothes big enough to be circus tents.
    The lights came on and Mrs. Fletcher walked to the front of the classroom, turned off the DVD and clicked off the TV .
    â€œThat was quite an interesting documentary,” she said.
    It was called
Stuffed
, and it was all about Frankie’s, the gigantic fast-food chain. It was all about how their food was filled with fat and chemicals and how eating it could make people overweight, unhealthy, sick and could basically kill them.
    â€œComments?” Mrs. Fletcher asked.
    â€œThat was disgusting,” Julia snapped. Julia was one of my best friends. “Just disgusting!”
    â€œIt was pretty gross,” Oswald agreed. He was my
best
friend.
    Two weeks ago he might have agreed or he might have disagreed with Julia. Now he did nothing but agree with anything and everything she said. Two weeks ago he and Julia had stopped being friends and started being boyfriend and girlfriend.
    â€œIt made me hungry,” Trevor said. A chorus of laughter followed his words.
    â€œHungry?” Julia demanded, sounding not only surprised but offended. “How could you possibly even think about eating after what we just saw?”
    â€œI like Frankie’s food,” Trevor said. “It’stasty and big…really big…and I like big food.”
    Trevor looked like he could have been
in
the documentary.
    Julia opened her mouth to answer, but Mrs. Fletcher cut her off. “What do other people think?” she asked.
    I thought that was pretty smart on her part— cutting Julia off before she said something about Trevor that we were all probably thinking but nobody should have said.
    Other people joined into the debate. It was creating a lot of opinions—but then again, it was a pretty strong documentary.
    The film was about some guy who lived on nothing but Frankie’s food. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, he ate nothing but Frankie’s. Sausages and coffee and hotcakes and hash browns for breakfast; burgers and fries and onion rings and Coke and root beer for lunch and dinner. Every day, every meal for sixty days. By the end he was fat and sluggish and depressed.
    â€œWhat was the most interesting thing you learned?” Mrs. Fletcher asked the class.
    â€œThat they put sugar in everything, including the French fries and onion rings,” a girl said.
    â€œI couldn’t believe the amount of sugar that guy had eaten,” another boy said. “It was like a small mountain!”
    There had been a scene in the movie where sugar—equal to all the sugar he’d eaten—was piled on a table. The amount of sugar was so massive it slipped off the edges of the table.
    â€œWhat grossed me out the most was all that fat!” Julia said.
    â€œThat was sick!” Oswald agreed. “And I don’t mean that in a good way.”
    After the sugar scene they had glass jars filled with greasy, slimy fat—equal to the amount he’d eaten during the two months.
    â€œThose were both wonderful visual displays. How many people are now less likely to eat at Frankie’s?” Mrs. Fletcher asked.
    Three-quarters of the class put up their hands.
    â€œThose who didn’t raise their hands, could you explain why it didn’t affect you in the same way?”
    â€œFrankie’s food tastes the best,” a boy said.
    â€œYeah,” Trevor agreed, “especially the triple bacon cheeseburger melt.” Trevor’s eyes were closed as if he was picturing the burger in his mind. I wouldn’t have been surprised if a string of drool had come out of his mouth.
    That was actually my favorite burger too—I liked it, but I thought Trevor was
in love
with it.
    â€œAnd you still would eat one of