I was flying around with no reason and should be unbanned because...
Statistics show that the percentage of American obesity is increasing by 400% every 14 years. It is estimated by the year of 2042, the vast majority of Americans would be obese or unhealthily overweight. It is 20 years into Omnopolis' future in which the story of Oscar Meyers unfolds.
Born into the lower class, Oscar grew up in the beautiful Hidden Valley Ranch working on the Hillshire Farm. As scenic as it was, though, Oscar didn't have time to admire the beauty of his home for he was too busy farming potatoes. Potato farming was his job and his passion. Since he was little, he knew little of the outside world save for stories told by the elders at the farm. Some of them were nearly 40 years old! They spoke of great cities and of countries long forgotten. They told of nations like mild Turkee, blessed Grease, exotic Chili, and poor Hungry, and of the far away lands of Vit-nom, Moss-cow, and New-deli. He cared little about old folklore, however, and spent most of the time he was not farming potatoes eating the plant based meat substitutes which were delivered to the farm every fortnight. Oscar, being so intense and focused at his potato farming, was lean and muscular and baked from the sun. Nearly everyone in his compound was of similar build. They were told to always stay healthy, always be working. And so they worked, day in and day out. One morning, however, the men who usually picked up the month's supply of potatoes asked one of Oscar's comrade brothers to leave with them to the city. Chestah Pibb, the comrade in question, was one of Oscar's closest friends and the only one with which he could share his personal potato based victories with. Chestah left after little persuasion for he oft dreamt of the city and was truly entranced whenever the elders spoke. This was the last Oscar would ever see of his best friend, Mr Pibb, ever again.
The days passed and Oscar became worried about his friend's well being. He vowed that the next time the round men who took Chestah returned, he would accompany them to the city. Soon, the men who bore Chestah away came back to collect the potatoes, this time asking for "Wendy" Gwendolyn to accompany them. She too accepted without much convincing; it was then Oscar requested to travel with the men to the city as well. They, much to his dismay, declined his offer. Oscar learned from his potato farming the art of patience and fortitude however and would not back down. He waited until the collecting van was well on its way before Oscar started to give chase. Sneaking past the guards, Oscar broke into a run towards the glow of the city just beyond the horizon.
Not long was Oscar gone before he first heard the pulsing of the Bulgewahze's search copters. It was the Bulgewahze which kept the comrades working at the compound, not that Oscar needed any encouragement to farm potatoes. No one enjoyed farming potatoes as much as he did. Sadly, Oscar had broken one of the most strictly enforced public taboos. He had left the compound, and, no matter how great, his passion for farming potatoes could not protect him from the gum cannons of the Bulgewahze.
Desperately seeking sanctuary, Oscar broke into a clearing in which he had spotted a strange purple rock formation. Sitting squatted adjacent to the rock, a family of rotund uppers were picnicking in the clearing. The shock of such a sight was too much for Oscar. He had been accustomed to the men who had collected the potatoes, but never had he seen such spherical "people" before in his life. And just what were they eating? A strange sandwich? And were those... potatoes? Cut in slices? Oscar had only eaten the vegetable pastes and cubes which were provided for the compound all his life. Surely these people must be mad?
The family had a similar reaction to the sudden appearance of the dusty, scrawny creature that stood before them. The youngest, being only 6, blubbered in fright. The thumping of the copters intensified. Utterly bewildered, the family watched as the creature leapt into the air and darted out into the sheltered indention in the rock. Minutes passed and the pulse of the copters had died into the night before the eldest dared approach the creature.
Thus the first friendly contact between the uppers and the comrades in 20 years had been made. Predictably, pressure was high initially, but after much talk, Oscar had befriended the eldest of the family. He was a doctor for the Bulgewahze. Pepper, so they called him, had been in charge of heart transplants in Pizza, Sardeenia, but had recently retired to Hamburgur, Swedensaur, but Oscar cared little for such trivial information. He only wished to find Mr Pibb. Dr Pepper, though seriously uneducated on all matters potato, was able to point the way to the city.
They parted company, each taking from each other as much knowledge and wisdom they could provide. Dr Pepper, however, parted a little richer, for he had informed the Bulgewahze of the strange creature and was rewarded handsomely. He was given 630 pounds worth of golden nuggets and was left to his picnic. Oscar Meyers, however, was not so lucky. He was quickly and efficiently tracked and subdued. Unconscious and helpless, Oscar was taken into the bowels of the city he so desperately sought. Bound and bagged like a kid’s meal, Oscar awoke smelling salts and spices.
Upon opening his eyes, Oscar was assaulted by light. Yellow and warm, a thousand little suns slowly dry roasted him into a chilled sweat. Nearly nodding off again, Oscar glimpsed the silhouette of a man. Slowly, steadily but slowly, the figure stepped into the heating lamps with a smile of blood. A specter in all regards, the man was wispy and pale, almost comical for how large he was. Oscar could just make out “The Don†printed onto a name tag pinned into the striped jumper he was wearing. His red lips parted, violently clashing with the yellow of his suit, and a sweet, sticky voice spilled into Oscar's ears, "Good evening sir. My name is Ron. I'll be your surgeon tonight. May I take your organs?â€
Statistics show that the percentage of American obesity is increasing by 400% every 14 years. It is estimated by the year of 2042, the vast majority of Americans would be obese or unhealthily overweight. It is 20 years into Omnopolis' future in which the story of Oscar Meyers unfolds.
Born into the lower class, Oscar grew up in the beautiful Hidden Valley Ranch working on the Hillshire Farm. As scenic as it was, though, Oscar didn't have time to admire the beauty of his home for he was too busy farming potatoes. Potato farming was his job and his passion. Since he was little, he knew little of the outside world save for stories told by the elders at the farm. Some of them were nearly 40 years old! They spoke of great cities and of countries long forgotten. They told of nations like mild Turkee, blessed Grease, exotic Chili, and poor Hungry, and of the far away lands of Vit-nom, Moss-cow, and New-deli. He cared little about old folklore, however, and spent most of the time he was not farming potatoes eating the plant based meat substitutes which were delivered to the farm every fortnight. Oscar, being so intense and focused at his potato farming, was lean and muscular and baked from the sun. Nearly everyone in his compound was of similar build. They were told to always stay healthy, always be working. And so they worked, day in and day out. One morning, however, the men who usually picked up the month's supply of potatoes asked one of Oscar's comrade brothers to leave with them to the city. Chestah Pibb, the comrade in question, was one of Oscar's closest friends and the only one with which he could share his personal potato based victories with. Chestah left after little persuasion for he oft dreamt of the city and was truly entranced whenever the elders spoke. This was the last Oscar would ever see of his best friend, Mr Pibb, ever again.
The days passed and Oscar became worried about his friend's well being. He vowed that the next time the round men who took Chestah returned, he would accompany them to the city. Soon, the men who bore Chestah away came back to collect the potatoes, this time asking for "Wendy" Gwendolyn to accompany them. She too accepted without much convincing; it was then Oscar requested to travel with the men to the city as well. They, much to his dismay, declined his offer. Oscar learned from his potato farming the art of patience and fortitude however and would not back down. He waited until the collecting van was well on its way before Oscar started to give chase. Sneaking past the guards, Oscar broke into a run towards the glow of the city just beyond the horizon.
Not long was Oscar gone before he first heard the pulsing of the Bulgewahze's search copters. It was the Bulgewahze which kept the comrades working at the compound, not that Oscar needed any encouragement to farm potatoes. No one enjoyed farming potatoes as much as he did. Sadly, Oscar had broken one of the most strictly enforced public taboos. He had left the compound, and, no matter how great, his passion for farming potatoes could not protect him from the gum cannons of the Bulgewahze.
Desperately seeking sanctuary, Oscar broke into a clearing in which he had spotted a strange purple rock formation. Sitting squatted adjacent to the rock, a family of rotund uppers were picnicking in the clearing. The shock of such a sight was too much for Oscar. He had been accustomed to the men who had collected the potatoes, but never had he seen such spherical "people" before in his life. And just what were they eating? A strange sandwich? And were those... potatoes? Cut in slices? Oscar had only eaten the vegetable pastes and cubes which were provided for the compound all his life. Surely these people must be mad?
The family had a similar reaction to the sudden appearance of the dusty, scrawny creature that stood before them. The youngest, being only 6, blubbered in fright. The thumping of the copters intensified. Utterly bewildered, the family watched as the creature leapt into the air and darted out into the sheltered indention in the rock. Minutes passed and the pulse of the copters had died into the night before the eldest dared approach the creature.
Thus the first friendly contact between the uppers and the comrades in 20 years had been made. Predictably, pressure was high initially, but after much talk, Oscar had befriended the eldest of the family. He was a doctor for the Bulgewahze. Pepper, so they called him, had been in charge of heart transplants in Pizza, Sardeenia, but had recently retired to Hamburgur, Swedensaur, but Oscar cared little for such trivial information. He only wished to find Mr Pibb. Dr Pepper, though seriously uneducated on all matters potato, was able to point the way to the city.
They parted company, each taking from each other as much knowledge and wisdom they could provide. Dr Pepper, however, parted a little richer, for he had informed the Bulgewahze of the strange creature and was rewarded handsomely. He was given 630 pounds worth of golden nuggets and was left to his picnic. Oscar Meyers, however, was not so lucky. He was quickly and efficiently tracked and subdued. Unconscious and helpless, Oscar was taken into the bowels of the city he so desperately sought. Bound and bagged like a kid’s meal, Oscar awoke smelling salts and spices.
Upon opening his eyes, Oscar was assaulted by light. Yellow and warm, a thousand little suns slowly dry roasted him into a chilled sweat. Nearly nodding off again, Oscar glimpsed the silhouette of a man. Slowly, steadily but slowly, the figure stepped into the heating lamps with a smile of blood. A specter in all regards, the man was wispy and pale, almost comical for how large he was. Oscar could just make out “The Don†printed onto a name tag pinned into the striped jumper he was wearing. His red lips parted, violently clashing with the yellow of his suit, and a sweet, sticky voice spilled into Oscar's ears, "Good evening sir. My name is Ron. I'll be your surgeon tonight. May I take your organs?â€
