Write a fictional story about an obese girl/boy and their high school troubles.

I call this one: Mike the Massive Mammoth. Mike could recall a time when he wasn't as 'full' as he was then. He used to have friends, oh yes, you heard right! There was Jerry and Jimmy and Johnny and Jimbo. All of which left him in the 10th grade, when Mike put on some excess weight. Mike was always a lone now, sitting at the lunch tables when it came time for lunch outdoors, shoving 2 entire cans of Pringles up his fat lips and a crushed BLT hidden within the bowels of the suitcase known as his lunchpail. People would yell at him from across his table and walk past him, taunting the poor fellow. "Fat@ss!" "Cow!" "Beefalo!" "Godzilla!" "Fat@ss!" "Fat@ss!" Yes, that's right. Mike was now the fat@ss of the school. He went from normal Joe to obese Joe. Now, you may think - Mike has no way to get back on his feet! He's over 800 pounds! Yes, you may be right, literally and metaphorically because Mike really can't get on his feet: he's too damn fat to get off the lunch table seat. However, metophorically, Mike can get back on his feet. Mike can make some new friends and probably lose some weight in the process (unlikely). Angela's Christmas party was coming up, two days before Christmas. And, if the rumours were correct, the new school legends were going: Jerry, Jimmy, Johnny, and Jimbo. They all played basketball for the school, probably to get some excersise in because they were scared they'd end up like their past friend Mike. Nevertheless, Mike grasped this as a time to re-connect with the quadruple J's and probably make some new friends, too! He could make it to the party. though he'd need a ride from his mom, who was equally as physically challenged. After school ended, Mike stumbled home with his puny legs in comparison to his massive body to his home, where he asked his mother, Big Mama, if she could drive Mike to Angela's party. Big Papa and Big Mama agreed to take Mike to the party, and Mike finally felt like he had a chance again. Two days before ChRISmAAAAAAaaSSSSSSSSSSSSSSsSS B**TchhhhES - - "Are you ready to make some friends, deary?" Big Mama asked, glancing at the back seat of the car. Mike took up the entire 3 seats with his massive, gelatinous @ss. "Yes, Mama." Mike said in a muffled tone, as he was stuffing his face with Doritos while getting orange crumbs all over the seat. "Give me some, you little f*ck-" Big Mama nearly jumped out of the seat to yank the Dorito bag out of Mike's hand, only to proceed to swallow it's remains with one big gulp. Mike tried to hold in the tears upon losing his precious Doritos, but then cheered himself up with the thought of friends. They arrived at Angela's house, where they could see the windows flashing with colors and teenagers screaming and yelling to some kind of Jacob Saggytits song. "BABY YOU CAN WEAR MY, SWEATSHIRT!" "HA! BUT MIKE CAN'T FIT NO SWEATSHIRT ON IF IT'S NOT CUSTOM MADE!" "HA, FAT@SS!" Mike didn't hear this, because he could only hear the chewing of his mom as she opened a bag of Mini-OreO's. "Good luck, son. Make some friends!" Big Mama called as she drove before Mike could respond. Mike made his way to the door, gave it a knock, and Johnny was there to open it. "M-Mike? Is that you?" Everything went silent, and Mike could see all the kids in the house glance at Mike. Mike coughed out Dorito crumbs, then gave a quick wave with his orange-stained hand. Johnny backed away quickly and allowed Mike in. It was a miracle, as Mike somehow could have fit through the doorway. This was only due to 3 teenager football players pushing him in from behind. Once Mike had got in, all the 's3xy' girls glared at him like he was Hitler himself and all the boys glared at him like Justin Bieber. Mike made his way to the snack bar, where he found all sorts of weird foods. There was this weird white stick with an orange tip poking out of small cartons, and some kind of rolled up tacquito thing that happened to be green. Mike would pass, as he saw no Dorito chips. It was then he bumped into Angela. Mike tried to make small talk as Angela eyed him, belly, tiny legs, and tiny pea head. "H-hey, Angela? Want to be f-frien-" Angela cut her off. "Cut the sh*t, fat@ss. Who invited you? Or maybe you got Weight Watchers or Chuck E Cheese mixed up with my party, huh?" Mike stuttered. "I-I figured you could just show up and make some f-f-f-riends, y-you know? Isn't that what high school life is all abou-" "I SAID CUT THE SH*T FAT@SS. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, RIGHT NOW! YOU'RE TAKING UP THE ENTIRE LIVING ROOM!" Angela and a bunch of other girls surrounded the blob that was Mike, and grabbed hold of some of his belly flaps, and proceeded to push him towards the exit. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! DON'T TAKE ME OUTSIDE! I WANT TO HAVE FUN! LET ME HAVE SOME FUN! FRIENDS, PLEASE! FRIENDS, PLEASE! OR FOOD! JUST FOOD, PLEASE, GIVE ME SOME FOO-" With the help of the three football players, Mike was pushed out of the house, where he stumbled down the porch steps, landing on his @ss. Mike curled up into a fat ball on the floor, and proceeded to sob. "Goodbye, friends." Mike sobbed, rain pouring down on him. That was when he saw a single dorito chip laying on the floor next to him. "You are my only friend." Mike said. "But I will now eat you." Mike grabbed the dorito and had a seizure whilst attempt to shove it in his mouth. When he was finished, Mike then realized - he swallowed the sharp tip of the chip. "N-NO." Mike attempted to lean forward as he grasped his fat neck, in which he realized he didn't have a neck. Unable to stop the chip from going down unswalloed, the chip pierced his insides as Mike began to scream and yell. It was then, Mike knew he was going to die. At the hands of his dorito chip eating food. Quite literally, a Dorito chip had killed him. It would have killed him either way if he kept eating them, but anywho, Mike died, couldn't fit in a grave, so he was thrown off into sea where a whale mistakend Mike's corpse for one of his own. _________ Now that, my boy, was Mike the Massive Mammoth. I hope you realized the moral behind this story, and that is never trust a unswallowed Dorito chip. Now that'll be your bedtime story, son. G'night, and don't let the Dorito chips bite.