You enter the reception area to this office building and see me gorging myself on doughnuts, smearing frosting on my lips as I hum happily to myself. My poor white buttoned-up shirt is struggling to hold back the tidal wave of flab that is my chest, with only a few buttons left holding on for dear life. You can see hints of my red bra in the gaps. Likewise, my pencil skirt is tearing at the seams with pockets of fat oozing through. My cheeks redden as I see you carrying another box. Oh, another shipment has arrived? Wait, it's for me?! Well... I gulp and supress a burp. please drop it off in the breakroom. Any of the tables work fine... Who keeps sending these?!