Who cares? The real solution to that is to teach kids it's okay to beat up fatties. Therapeutic, even. When I was throwing tantrums as a kid, it would've done me a world of good if they'd given me a room full of tied-up hams to pulverize with my fists. Luckily, I figured that shit out on my own before it was too late, and by age 12 I was king shitlord of the schoolyard. I would have given multiple butterballs PTSD if fatties were capable of thinking and feeling on their own (in reality, they might cry a little, eat a few Klondike bars with their remaining teeth, and then they're right back to normal). Shit, fly me into Bumfuck, Arkansas today and I'll do it all over again. Rural, urban, suburban, my vocation is to #killallhams no matter where they dwell.