"I know you're in there," said a soft, concerned voice. "I'm here to help. And believe me, this is the kind of help you WANT, not what THEY think you need."
Lisa did not want to open the door, but the thought of some kind soul was too relieving to ignore. She flung open the door, grabbed the person on the other side, shot quick glances about, and shut it.
"Don't worry, I wasn't followed," her visitor chuckled gently. She was a very motherly woman - old enough to show it, but with a bit of youthful prettiness left to her. She was simply enormous - easily over five hundred pounds. When Lisa saw the three large pizza boxes she carried, her face gave a look of horror.
Her visitor just smiled.
"These," she nodded at her cargo, "Are my lunch, though you're welcome to a few slices. To be honest, they would do you good, and I doubt my stomach would miss them. My stuffing days are over," she sat herself down and began to dig in, making herself at home.
Lisa took a slice to be polite, but was too nervous to eat it. She wondered if it had some kind of weight-gain chemical in it. "So... what help do I need?"
"As much as you can get," snickered the older woman, already on her third slice. "But I've lived in this town my whole life. I've seen it go from a small, quiet place to... well, Chubbytown! And I can't tell you everything, but I know a few good places you can start."
Lisa pondered all of this, and finally nibbled a bit of her pizza.
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