Game 2Game 2 Outline| Game 2 |
Game 2 Outline |
You are shocked at the suggestion. Is Carl suggesting you get revenge? For what? (A little internal voice starts off on a running total, but you stamp on it.) He's helped you!
"Um, no thanks", you reply, and add, a little reproachfully, "I thought YOU were his friend."
Carl sighs. "Yeah, I am. I just hate seeing him act like that. I wish I'd never started him on the road to being some sort of exercise evangelist. He has trouble accepting that other people disagree with his personal universe, and sometimes that makes him a bit ... insensitive."
You nod emphatically, then add jokingly, "Besides, he's at the gym so much he'd hardly notice if I put a bomb in his lunch. He'd think it was indigestion!"
Strangely, Carl frowns. "Funny, I didn't put him on that tough a program." He then proceeds to question you thoroughly about Fred's exercise, his diet, his habits and his health. An hour later, when you finish, he grimly remarks "Really?" Just then Fred enters. He's trying to disguise the fact, but he's limping. You go to help him, but he snaps "It's nothing, just a sprain." He obviously hasn't worked the anger out yet, so you back off, hurt.
Carl stands up. "Is it just a sprain?" he asks meaningfully.
Fred's tail flickers and his ears spike up, a sure sign of guilt. "I don't know what you mean", he mutters.
With your help, Carl frogmarches Fred into the bathroom where he is given the same examination you were, plus a look at his leg. At the end, Carl sits back and glares at Fred. "Well?" he asks with venom.
Fred turns defensive. "You said I could do more exercise if I wanted." he growls sulkily. "Yes!" Carl almost growls at him, "but not twice as much!" Fred flinches. "I wanted to look better." he explains imploringly.
Carl sighs and sinks back. "Yes, but you made a mistake. Oh boy!" He looks up and addresses you. "What this fitness-crazed creature has done is to work his body into the dirt. His coat is getting lank, his eyes are dulling, see?" You look, and see. "Then there's this," he continues, tapping the sprain, "It isn't the first, is it?" Fred blushes.
"They're only small injuries."
"But they aren't getting better, are they? Your body's repair systems are being overworked and underfed, and there are probably even more injuries that you can't feel. You aren't sleeping well, you're irritable: Your body can't take it, Fred!"
Fred only looks stubborn, and Carl sighs again. "Alright." He takes a deep breath. "I'm changing your diet. I'll increase the calorie intake, give your body some energy to get itself together. And you'll cut the exercise down, preferably out, for the duration. After a month, we'll see." His tone is so final that it's a good minute before Fred answers.
"No, I'll get fat."
Carl snorts. "You lost weight before, so you'll manage it again."
"No," Fred corrects, "so I won't put it back on. I won't get fat!" He glares dangerously at Carl, who merely turns to you.
"Keep him on the diet and stop him from working out. He'll get really sick, otherwise, maybe even die!" Fear creeps into your bones. "OK?"
"Make Fred fat and lazy; check!" Carl laughs, but Fred looks ready to bite.
Written by Lupine (edited by wanderer)