His was was so fat that he'd fallen in and

His was was so fat that he'd fallen in and out of love with her four times as she grew to her current size. Unfortunately, she hit size where he was permanently out of love so

he moved out of the trailer which was not easy since her corpulence filled a good deal of it. Suitcase at the door, he looked back one last time. She was wedged in the sofa eating

scrambled Cadbury eggs and Peeps toast. Some jerkoffs had told her that sugar was bad for you and she was hell bent on proving them wrong. He wasn't going to stick around for the

frightful prospect of a kitchen without unsweetened tea and sugar-free ProtiBars. Not this time. As he walked out the door he said snobbily, "By SWEETie."

His life from that point on was a down-ward spiral, from licorice jelly beans and gum drops to the hard candy. Hitting rock bottom, he broke into a bakery for crullers.

A whirlpool of sugared treats ruled his world, until one day the door burst open - with him on the floor snorting crushed peppermints - and there, framed by the light, were three

dentists, who rushed into the home and wrestled him to the ground. Following them were a cadre of concerned friends, family members, and an intervention leader. His teeth were in

reasonably good shape, so he had two crowns, so what? The fillings had held up well for over twenty years, but all things must pass. "But don't fix this chip on my incisor, okay?"

"That won't be an issue" said the dentist. The voice seemed so familiar, but before I realized I was in danger, Michael Scarn took off the mask and plunged the tiny mirror into my

left nostril and the water jet up the right. "I'm sure you won't mind answering a few questions, hmm?" Just then the SWAT team burst in and interrupted the dental inquisition.