It would seem my previous chapter still didn't go over too well. As a result, I have crafted yet another master work.

Saturday morning was one of the worst times for Ribrianne. A time that always brought stress and self loathing for hours to come. The worst part of the week, every week. It was her weekly weight check.

Ribrianne waddled out of bed and toward her bathroom. Her rolls of fat pressed against the door frame as she squeezed through. Ribrianne was scarcely able to fit through any doorways now without sidestepping and gut sucking.

Ribrianne sighed. Her bathroom walls were dingy. Discolored paint peeled away in spots and fuzzy shower mold was advancing to every wall. It really had been too long since Ribrianne had scrubbed the place down, but why bother? To her, this was a place of depression. It should look the part.

She looked down at the scale. It was a high tech, extra resistent model that big shipping companies use to weigh bulk orders. Ribrianne had needed the extra weight resistance after breaking one too many consumer models. She took in a breath and closed her eyes as she stepped onto the device. She did not want to see the result after she passed 400 pounds last week. Ribrianne slid open her eyes.

"ERROR - TOO FAT." Read the scale. She had gotten even fatter since last week! Her diet was officially a failure. Ribrianne could feel herself about to cry when she looked at her mirror. Huge discolored stretch marks all across her gut. Awful biceps distended over her arm bones like thick globs of butter drooping over a clothesline.

"Whale." She said. "God damned whale! Disgusting thing!" She spoke even despite the growing pain of tears in her throat. "How you gonna bury the pain today? Another tub of ice cream? A big order of large pizzas? Maybe an all-you-can-eat McDonalds run?" She said, feeling the tears roll down her oily cheeks. "How am I ever gonna beat this when the only thing that makes me happy is food?" She sobbed now, the ragged breaths making the word "food" come out in a series of "hoo-hoo-hoo"s.

Ribrianne wept to herself, but pulled herself into the shower. Even after washing, she still smelled since she couldn't reach all of her folds, but at least she had washed away the tears.

Once outside, Ribrianne decided to fly over the town. From her bird's eye position, her eyes were constantly drawn to the billboards and restaurant signs. She hated it about herself, but she could feel the growing hunger. On a whim, she chose the nearest place, the local KFC.

Upon her landing, everyone kept their distance. A nearby child pointed and laughed at her as the impact of her landing rolled up her body like the ripples on a watery surface. The boy's mom tried to shush him, but she found herself giggling as well. A nearby teenage couple looked on, awestruck. The one turned to her boyfriend.

"Would you still love me if I looked like that, Jake?" She said in an audible whisper, pointing right at Ribrianne. Jake just shook his head in disbelief. A level of fat that strains the rib cage. He could barely comprehend.

"Babe, I just feel bad for the guy who does end up stuck with her. Imagine having to admit to your parents that you were marrying that!"

"Oh my god, true!" She said, laughter just underneath the words. "Oh, gosh, imagine the wedding pictures! Would she even fit in the photographs?"

The two laughed to themselves as Ribrianne sniffled. "The guy who's stuck with me?" She thought. "If only any guy had ever tried to approach me. If even one man had ever told me I'm beautiful. Maybe then I wouldn't feel this worthless."

Ribrianne jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and saw a very rotund man staring back. Oh, good! A fellow chubster. Ribrianne felt more at ease.

"Hey, uh, I just wanted to say thanks for being here. For once I'm not the fattest guy in the room! Finally, people are judging you and not me! Feels good!" Then he walked off into the setting sun, a thumbs up in the air like the actor at the end of a low budget action movie. Ribrianne felt terrible once again. She shambled into the KFC and approached the counter.

The clerk went wide eyed at the sight of her. "What'll it be?" He said, resisting the urge to add the word "tubby" to the end of his sentence. He cracked his knuckles for what was sure to be a rapid fire order of dozens of menu items. Some kind of Big Smoke thing.

"Yeah, I'll take a 16 piece bucket, original recipe. Hold the legs and wings, replace them all with thighs and breasts. I want fries for all 3 sides, and I want a large Pepsi." The order was robotic, clearly recited before. The man at the counter just shook his head.

"You're disgusting, you know that?" He said. "Like this really isn't ok."

Ribrianne said nothing, but her eyes betrayed her pain. She brought a hand over her mouth.

"I mean, wow! That heart of yours can't take much more. At some point, it's time to quit, but you just keep going."

"I do not have to take this from you." Ribrianne said, stammering.

"Oh, I think you do. I mean, you think you're just indulging, but you're honestly killing youself. Like, your out of control eating is ballooning your body into a grotesque mass of fat! In a way, you remind me of that show, D.B.S."

Ribrianne wanted to take no more of this, but the clerk raised a finger to silence her before she could speak.

"Like, the same way you've ruined your body with bad choice after bad choice, so has that show. I mean, they turn the characters into stupid characatures of themselves. They disregard and disrespect the old lore that used to be. D.B.S. has irreparably ruined itself. Kind of like you. You should hate yourself."

Ribrianne tried to stare at her feet, but her gut was in the way. "I do hate myself." She muttered. She shut her eyes shook her head. She looked solemn as she made eye contact with the clerk again. "Can I just get my chicken, please?"

The clerk shrugged. "Sure. It's gonna cost you 60 cents per leg and 75 cents per wing to replace them, that fine?"

Ribrianne handed the man a $50 bill. He nodded.

"Yo, kitchen! One fatty supreme on the double!"

When Ribrianne got her meal, she went straight home and locked the door. She sat at her couch and sobbed as she chowed down on her KFC. Now isn't that an image. A blubbering (intended) hippopotamus moaning in tears as it scarfs down greasy fried chicken.

Ribrianne would not wake up for next week's weight check. She would die of a heart attack that night. Her KFC experience was the last thing she remembered.

THE END

Much like Ribrianne's life choices, Dragon Ball Super is OBJECTIVELY terrible. The creators and fans should feel as bad as Ribrianne.