FATTY BACON

I couldn't sleep tonight and wrote this in about 10 minutes.  It hasn't been proofread yet.  But I liked the story.

FATTY BACON

By Shane Scott

     Freddy Macon, nicknamed Fatty Bacon woke with both feet in the fire.  Not the “you are in trouble, Fatty” type of both feet in fire, though that was certain true, but the “Fatty, your trailer is burning down” type of fire.

     Fatty gave a very unmanly scream pulling both feet out of the fire.  Then Fatty began jostling side to side, trying to move six hundred and eighty three pounds of human flesh from the depression in the mattress.  Fatty didn’t have much success.

     But luck was with Fatty that night and the jostling and side to side motion caused a massive expulsion of flatulence.  The fart immediately ignited and Fatty rolled out of bed on full afterburner.

     The single wide trailer could not withstand the onslaught of both the fire and Fatty’’s afterburner powered momentum.  When Fatty hit the bedroom wall the flimsy trailer construction cried uncle.

     Still screaming like a terrified girl Fatty fell through the trailer onto the ground.  Ancient brain pathways, long unused, came to life telling Freddy Bacon to get up and not just walk but to god damn run.

     It took a full minute for Freddy to get those damn feet underneath and not in front.  It took another minute before Freddy’s legs were straight.  And finally, one more minute before Freddy began walking.

     After making half a step the propane tank blew and Freddy was face down in the dirt again.  The afterburner, long since depleted of fuel left no hope of getting up.

     But luck was still with Freddy.  Those high pitched shrieks did their job and the alarm had been sounded.  The police and fire department pulled in only seconds later driving carefully, but hurriedly through the dozens of park residence.

     Numerous videos taken by the citizens of HappyLand Trailer Park, showing Freddy being loaded onto a canvas tarp and hauled away like a beached whale, would go viral in the following weeks.

     This resulted in Freddy Macon, aka, Fatty Bacon starring in the top rated reality show “Fatty Bacon runs a marathon.”  The producers of the TV show expected failure.  What they got was success and over four years Fatty Bacon lost five hundred and sixty three pounds.  Freddy bacon ran the Boston Marathon the following month.

     Fatty Bacon Runs a Marathon became a global sensation after Fatty placed forty seventh in the race.  Next a wildly successful series of work out videos called “Fatty Burns Your Fat” was launched.

     During the eighth season of Fatty Runs A Marathon a woman, at a press conference, accused Fatty of cornering her in a hotel room and making her rub his penis against her will.

     Fatty’s girl friend, Helen McGrath stood up telling the accuser “You’re out of your god damn mind.  If you were lucky enough to get into Fatty’s bed you wouldn’t be complaining you would be begging for more.”

     Immediately six of Fatty’s ex-girlfriends, also in attendance at the press conference, stood up and echoed the feelings of Helen McGrath.  It didn’t matter, the show was canceled.

     That was the start of Fatty’s secret being exposed though it would take another forty years to be fully known.

     During those forty years Helen and Freddie got married and became more private.  They traveled the world, always together.

     Fatty would die at ninety four, after becoming the oldest person to ever summit Mt. Everest without oxygen.  Fatty reached the top but never left the mountain.

     It was then, because of Fatty’s death, people began to talk and finally the world learned Freddy’s secret, though secret might be the wrong word.  Certainly a number of people knew, they just never said anything previously.

     Freddy Macon, aka Fatty Bacon had been born Frederica Beth Macon.  She never had a penis.  She might have been described in the politically correct but not really, and certainly not now, term as “butch”.

     A year after Fatty’s death Helen McGrath, a spry ninety three year old, slowly lowered herself to the ground at Fatty’s grave.  

     “I will be joining you soon, love.” Helen said.

     She kissed the tips of her fingers and ran them across the epitaph on Frederica’s tombstone.

     “Let Them Think What They Want.”