Despite the possibility of Wallboy's VDs causing a pandemic with me being broken out of the quarentine that was to be my forever jail cell,  no one chased us, even though my forklift only went a max 20 clicks.    Maybe it was the smell, maybe it was because lard ate anyone who challenged him, we never found out.   Despite evading police and medical staff, I was still in a world of trouble.  The fumes of Wallboy's masochistic release had poisoned me, causing me to have every single sexually transmitted infection known to all species, simultaniously. 

 My only chance for survival, was a fat one.  A fat chance that was sitting at the end of my forklift scooping up shrubbery and objects as we drove by, and mashing them into his massive trap.   I had no right to be skeptical of his ability to cure me after what has happened in the days past.  I just had some major squalms over what I had to do, to be cured.   Lard needed my help, and I needed his. 

 We needed a place where we could go and hide.  Which proves to be very difficult with a fork lift, and a person that is the same size as my forklift.  We needed to go quickly too..  Everything I touched, broke out in a bunch of blistering cysts, including my steering wheel.    The idea of going somewhere remote was not an option for someone who needed a constant supply of food.  Going home wasn't safe either.  Lard had told me that him and his humble lover Lord_Infamous had in fact killed my neighbor for his hamburgers while trying to find me.   I'm sure that my neighbor had some loved ones who were probably looking for him by now.  With me being away aswell, I was an obivous suspect.  So we decided to go back to Lard's home, first to get something to eat, and then to cure me of my illnesses.

Once we got there, the smell of rotting food assured me that my computer insident was in fact the fault of Lard.  By now, I had gotten used to it, and even grown to like the company.  I called my parents from his house and asked them take care of my cats, while I was "in the hospital".  I told them that I had swine flu, was at the hospital, and would be able to come get my kitties after I was symtom free for more than 24 hours.  They were curious to why I hadn't told them before I was reported missing, but had to go, as they suddenly smelt "something strange" and felt the need to find out where it was coming from.   I knew that the smell was of Lards house seeping through the phone, and figured that it figureing that out was probably going to keep them occupied for some time.

Lard and I sat down to a bathtub of spaghetti, and discussed what our options were, for both of our situations. I needed a cure, and he needed to find justice for when Wallboy stole his pizza.   I asked Lard,  "So what's this cure you were talking about?"

"You're not going to like it" sighed lard.  "You have to drink 4 cups of my blood." 

"That's not too bad. It's better than having herpaghonasiphilaids"  I squimishly exclaimed.

"Yeah but first we need to get to it..." lard said

"True, do you have any knives large enough, and sharp enough to cut through all that flab? "

"No," he replied, "I don't believe in utensils"  (a humble response I might add)

"What about mirrors, or glass, or yard tools?" I asked

"One I don't do any work, especially work that involves burning calories.  Two, every piece of glass I've ever owned breaks as soon as I take a step. So we have nothing."

"What about this?" I said after finding a Saws-All under a pile of burger wrappers

"OH! I was looking for that!  That's my wall trimmer! Whenever I get bigger, which I do, I get someone to trim off some of the doorway's walls so I can get around.   It must have gotten lost a few weeks ago when I stopped moving around.  See those bullet holes?   Those are from Lord_Infamous trying to get me out to come to your place"

I shrugged,  "Works for me!"

With that, I plugged in the saw, and proceeded to look for a less fatty part on Lard's body.  He saw what I was doing and started to laugh.  He lifted up one of his folds, brushed off some of his keep sakes, and pointed to the crease. 

"Here" he said "Make it quick.  The fat that falls out will heal it within 10 seconds and the bleeding will stop."

I stared at the cave of skin, and at first was digusted, but as I started cutting in I couldn't help but think of how cozey it looked in there.  Then I snapped right back to gross mode as the fat started to jirate out of his gut.   To my amazement he actually found it to be a little ticklish, and laughed a little as he waved goodbye to his beloved fat.  Suddenly he shouted "Quick! Get some nachos!".  "This isn't the time for food Lardy!" I exclaimed.   "pft! it's always time for food" he said, as he reached behind himself and grabbed a convienent plate of corn chips.    He held it under his wound just in time.  With that, a orangey-yellow substance started oozing from the incision in dallops all over the chips.

"Take it before I do!" He shouted while licking his lips.

"This some sort of joke?" I asked in utter disbelief

"You wanna be cured or not?"

With that I delicately picked up one of the less-covered chips, plugged my nose, and took a careful bite.  To my surprise, Lard's blood type was actually nacho cheese... good nacho cheese too.  Kinda spicy, not too chunky, delicious melted cheese.  I obivously had no qualms about eating the rest of the plate, as lard scooped whatever was left on his stomach onto a deep fried taco shell and ate it.

After my share of chips and bath tub spaghetti, I was happy, full, and cured... I could have easily ran for my life, and probably should have, with everything that this fat fuck has caused me.  But he was nice, careing, and very well could have left me for dead at my apartment building.   I'm sure there are more people than just me who can help him solve his problems.   But he chose me.  For all that we went trough together, we were  a team now.   That night was the first night I spent snuggled in his beautiful folds.