See, isn’t it better being a mindless trophy, keeping it tight for Sir? He takes you all over the world on his business trips, and you only eat (meagerly), drink (intentionally) and wear (whorishly) the finest things. All that destructive behaviour that was destroying your own body; the gorging on sugar and fats and booze. You were getting fat, and ugly, and unfuckable. Sir came along and saved you. He saw something special in you, hidden under 20 pounds of unregulated bloat. He trained you down to waist size men actually want and now, you can forget those wasted years of fatness, and be the beautiful, brain-dead trophy to a great man. So bend over, boy, cause this life doesn’t come free.