Underbellies
“There’s no easy way to say this, but It’s something that you need to know. Not all fat people are as they seem. Hear me out, yes, some of them are actually just regular people, regular people who happen to be fat. These are not the fat people I’m talking about. The fat people I’m talking about aren’t even people, they know exactly what they are. Underbellies; Aliens; Undercover humans. Secret fat soldiers sent from the planet Lunchladia to gather intel on all of our technological advancements as well as any and all undocumented recipes that they come across.
Check the rolls on the back of the neck, that’s an easy tell. If the rolls look like they’re breathing that’s because they are, Underbellies ventilate through their crevices. Certain crevices actually serve multiple purposes to the Underbellies. The neck crevice also contains sensory links to the outside world, it’s what they use to smell and taste. Their hip crevices are used for storage as well as breaking down and analyzing the elemental data of whatever is being stored. They have no definite shape, just gelatinous blobs with the ability to loosely mimic any forms they please. Underbellies all exist on a mesh network of consciousness, a hive mind if you will. All information that they gather instantly gets shared with their mothership, which in turn shares the intel with the home planet.
Having mastered the science of interdimensional travel some time ago, Underbellies have outposts on most livable planets, making them one of the most privy and knowledgeable species in the universe.
From what I’ve gathered so far it seems like their mission here on Earth is almost complete. Once they’ve gotten all of the information they need they will pack up and return to their home planet, adding Earth to the list of juiced planets scheduled for demolition. I can not tell you how I know these things, and even if I were to tell you, you wouldn’t believe me.
There is only one way to prevent this from happening. You and your establishment must retire your secret recipe, then destroy all physical and digital copies of it before it's too late. For some reason your delicious fried chicken has taken the Underbellies a particularly long time to break down and analyze. I fear that if they continue to research it, they will eventually crack the code which as I’ve said, is bad news for everybody.
Once all copies of the secret recipe are destroyed but one, I personally will deliver it to a safe-locked facility for storage along with various other vital pieces of sensitive information. I promise you, this situation is extremely time sensitive.”
“Sir.” Said the acne ridden 16 year old behind the counter. “We’ve already called the police, you need to leave now.”
“Hopeless bastards.” Gus muttered as he slumped out of the fast food restaurant, hanging his head.
As he closed his car door, he rested his head on the steering wheel and exhaled in despair.
It seemed as if Gus’ Chicken Bucket would always be a pipe dream after all.
