Viggo finished wiping his rather enormous ass and levitated his bulk up off the toilet seat. Viggo thought about washing his hands but didn't. Viggo let out a belch and then a fart. Viggo ran a pocket comb through his greasy, dandruff ridden scalp and looked at himself in the mirror.
"Today's the day you fat piece of shit. Today's the day everything changes; for keeps."
Viggo dug in his pocket and fished out a king sized Snickers. It was his last. He thought about eating it slowly, so as to savor it, but instead ended up inhaling it just like the last few hundred thousand candy bars that had formed the staple of his miserable existence. Viggo licked some chocolate off his thumb and said, "this shit better work or I'm gonna fucking lose what's left of my worried mind."
Having shit, combed his hair and inhaled his Snicker's bar Viggo stepped out of the men's room at, "Happy Yukes Center." A somewhat burly orderly sporting a face devoid of deep thoughts looked at Viggo and said, "You ready?"
"I better be. I just spent my life savings on this joint."
Two hours later Viggo was sitting alone in a large circular conference room. The walls were covered in flat panel monitors; 200 in all. I had been been watching Viggo since he arrived by taxi at 1:14 PM. I had taken a second look at Viggo's file. Viggo was 29 and a high school dropout. His father had died when he was 6 and his mother had been put away in a state asylum for alternately molesting and beating him.
By the time Viggo was 13 he was almost 300lbs. When his mother escaped the asylum two years ago Viggo had passed the 500lb mark. For the past year she had been sending him letters promising him, "some serious loving". As of today's weigh-in Viggo was approaching the 700lb mark.
I could relate. I was once Viggo, more or less, less or more. Then one day, after mistaking a box of ex-lax for chocolate, I had had my epiphany. There was a lot of tweaking to my system required but I have found that the desperate are an excellent and easily manipulated market. I saw no reason Viggo would be different.
"Viggo? Can you see me?"
Viggo looked up. "Yes. I can see you," he wheezed.
"Viggo are you ready to say goodbye to the old you?"
"I think so-"
"NO! You must commit, Viggo. If you do not want it you can still leave. Once you agree there is no going back."
"I- I'm ready."
I pushed a button on my console. The gas filled the conference room and Viggo's eyes glazed. A smile slowly dawned across my face. I hadn't had a specimen like Viggo ever. He reminded me of myself. He made me sick. He made me want to vomit up my guts all across my big desk.
As Viggo passed out George and Harry wheeled in the cart filled with entrails that had been stewing in raw sewage. George wiped his mask and then began to shovel entrails and shit all over Viggo's corpulescence. The gas had done it's job and Viggo was still as the night. George and Harry finished covering Viggo and then wheeled the empty cart out.
I pushed another button on my console. A few minutes later Viggo awoke.
"Can you hear me, Viggo?" I asked.
Viggo paid me no mind even though my pasty face was on all 200 monitors. Viggo was too busy retching. I rubbed my hands together slowly. Oh, what fun we will have for the next 18 months my friend.
"Viggo. You are going to be in there for a while. I sugg-"
Viggo was now projectile vomiting in every direction his five chins turned. I pressed a button and began the IMAX show. Images of concentration camp victims, war, disease, and Richard Nixon filled the room. Justin Bieber came through the stereo system at full blast. Viggo continued to vomit.
Another push of a button. 2000 cockroaches were released into the room. Minutes later they were crawling all over Viggo.
Viggo's only response was dry heaves and tears. I muted the sound as I saw no reason why we both should be tortured by Bieber.
"Viggo. Listen to me. I know this seems painful and confusing right now but trust me; this is only the beginning."
Viggo began to scream as he clawed at his face. I queued up some Frank Zappa and pushed the play button.
"Viggo. You have treated yourself like shit your whole life. You are but an amateur. You think you have hit rock bottom but you are mistaken. You are now the first man to fall into a black hole. You have passed the event horizon. No one will help you. No one will hear your screams."
I pushed another button and two hundred candy bars fell out of the drop ceiling onto Viggo.
"Viggo. Would you like some candy?"
Viggo began to vomit blood.
"Way to commit Viggo," I said sincerely.
Viggo's live stream had already gotten 250,000 hits in the last 20 minutes. I checked my bank balance. I was now two million richer. I knew I would reinvest it all back into Viggo. Viggo's Vomitorium was going to be my magnum opus. Reality TV eat your heart out.
I cleared off my desk and put on my fedora. If I hurried I could still catch the 7:15 from Grand Central.
"Oh, I almost forgot. I've arranged for a special guest to visit tomorrow. Can you guess who? Good night Viggo. Don't let the bed bugs bite and prepare yourself for some serious loving."
From Crucifiction by Krafto Matix.
