Fatty Patty's

Patty embodies both the corporeal and the ethereal. She is a winged and haloed spirit, beyond the struggles shared by all flesh and blood, and yet she is “fat.” How can a phantom be formless and corpulent? How can she be no more, and yet still be counted as the "one and only"? Such are the paradoxes of suicide food. Adherents let their faith buoy them amid the contradictory currents. The hopelessly rational can only wonder.

A nagging doubt we outsiders surely feel: How can this childlike coquette—another paradox!—possibly make anyone crave the products of deceased pigs? How?

Perhaps Fatty Patty’s own words can shed light on the matter:

Weclome (sic) to the One and Only Fatty Patty's!
We are well known for huge portions of food, including our Super Large Oversized Portion of hashbrowns, ham, tomatoes, green peppers and onions, topped with cheese and smothered in sausage gravy.

Super. Large. Oversized. Could it be the sheer volume of pork—the ungodly meaty bulk—that clouds judgment and inhibits thoughtful behavior?

As if to supply evidence for our suspicions, a satisfied patron on a dining-out-and-about forum enthuses about Patty's:

The bugars (sic) are fantastic... Everthing (sic) was a heafty (sic) portion!!

Clearly, Fatty Patty exerts some dark influence on the minds of mankind. Only theologians are qualified to make sense of our cherubic Svengali.

One further question remains: how did Patty die? Was it obesity-related? Or was it, as we all suspect, by her own hand? Whatever the cause, she taunts us and tortures us and smothers our thoughts in a heafty (sic) portion of gravy until we cannot think straight.







Addendum (3/07/09): Look! Patty's back. But, judging by the look in the sausage maker's eye, not for long.












Addendum 2 (4/16/09): And here she is again. (With her twin?) Patty gets around!