The librarian spoke first.
“Botendaddy. You have to stay motivated. Forget the 48 pounds that you’ve already lost. Move on from it, pick a new goal starting from your current weight and pick new running goals from your running stats. Also, I’m done with you, you stupid, dirty, perverse freak. I met somebody normal. He worships me. Goodbye. Never touch me again, you make my skin crawl. I feel so…so…dirty.”
Then the Professor slowly rose from her seat and began to lecture me.
“I agree. But you have to look at your health. Sure you’re only eight pounds from escaping BMI-obese, but is that good? To avoid heart problems or Type 2 diabetes? If you still have visible fat you need to keep eating sensibly and losing. By the way I’ve found a new man. He’s younger than you, he’s a gentleman and he has a much better body than your repulsiveness and he’s not disgusting.”
The stalker was next. She leaned over me in a threatening posture.
“Well you can see that even after all this weight loss your body is nauseating and your run times are mediocre to poor at best. You should run a sub 9:00 mile every single mile of a short distance race. You are still 13 pounds over your old Army max allowable weight? Max weight? Does that tell you anything? You need to go a bit further. Shoot for 215 or thinner. Get rid of all that sickening, tasty man-breast blubber you fat slobbering mass of rotting dead tissue. I met someone too. He’s wealthy and good looking, so F@&$ YOU!”
Then the PMWC turned and gestured dramatically to the group with her hands like a great orator.
“Sure you look good in clothes, but you’ve only reached ‘Voat©-skinnyfat’. Voat™ people hate you…a lot. I am a true sh1tlady now, you savage Beetus. You disgusting Obeast. You big fat-fat-fatty! You need to shoot for that *sexy* beach body. By the way, the hipster guy turned out to be OK. We’re an item now, you old creep, so bugger off!”
Next up was Hiroyuki. She bowed low, took off her furry cartoon-fox head mask and wiped away sweat.
“So I just got back from DragonComicAnimeCosplayFurry-Con. Yeah we are all right. Pick a new number maybe lose another 40, get really healthy. You’ve only gone halfway. Now that I see you by daylight, you are really gross. Hands off Frankenstein!”
Then Ramon got up, stripped to his green lame shorts and began posing in front of the class.
“So, you need to work on lowering body fat. Why not get below 20%? Get lean, get a tan, be gorgeous! You never loved me anyway, you sickening green ogre. So go to hell. *hot*…*red-hot Botendaddy*, *massive*, *Silver fox*. Ah the smell of it!”
Finally it was the Park Ranger. He didn’t even get up. His hair was…perfect…
“Botendaddy? You will NEVER live to be as old as you look, girl, you’ll look ever soooo much better in drag now, *hot* but lose the natural tits, OK?”
Then it was the new girl’s turn. She had a thick British Caribbean accent.
“I don’t know about all this, people. I’m just here to write from a Carribbean perspective and run. See you at the Glow run, Botendaddy.”
Peace be the Botendaddy