“Eating stuff you like gives you cancer. Fact. Drinking anything but water gives you cancer. Fact. Sitting down gives you cancer. Fact,” said a horrible frowning stick-man with a clipboard. “And tits give you cancer too.”
“We have tried persuading people with warning labels on all food saying YOU ARE GOING TO DIE, yet doomed idiots are still recklessly eating things they like the taste of,” he snapped in annoyance. “This has simply got to stop. We call on the government to ban the sale of everything. People must learn to scrape bark off trees for sustenance if they want to live forever.”
|Just remind yourself you're saving the world|
Meanwhile, fatter experts were warning that people had damned well better stop fucking right now, if they didn’t want to be crushed under the ever-increasing mass of humanity on the groaning planet.
“The best thing you can do to help reduce the population,” recommended a rosy-faced epicurologist, “Is to drive round to Maccy D’s right now, gorge yourself on burgers and coke, waddle across the road to the pub and sink ten pints of stout, call a taxi for the arduous half-mile journey home, flop onto the sofa and pass out immediately.”
“Repeat twice daily,” he added, before pushing his face into a huge pile of ready salted crisps.