This is a bit off topic from what's normally posted, but if you have the time please read my short story: Dawn of the Obeast. [    Please note, this is part of an ongoing FICTIONAL series called “Dawn of the Obeast” -- 100 hundred years into our future, the obesity rates reach epidemic proportions with 80% of the world classified as obese.  The massive collection of fat cells on the earth somehow form a neural network hive mind and achieve sentience, turning all the morbidly obese into mindless Zombies with one task; eat the remaining humans!  The survivors call them Zomblobs and spend their days hiding out in terror.      ] (Story post 1) I knew where I was before I even opened my eyes.  The smell of rusting metal and the guttural sound of rattling pipes spewing stale air told me that I was back in the Bunker.  Still, I opened my eyes just to confirm I really was here. But wait, if I’m back in the Bunker, that means I’m dreaming.  This is most definitely a dream because I keep having the dream about the Bunker over and over.  Come on Connor, wake up, wake up, wake up.  Please wake up, I don’t want to experience this again. A loud boom rang out in the distance followed by screaming.  I jumped up and ran to the hallway.  Another heavy boom rang out and the hallway lights flickered.  The bunker was deep underground, what could cause this kind of noise?  Wait, no, I was trying to remember something.  Something important, what was it?  Something about a dream.  Several people in the hallway ran by screaming.  I called out to them asking what happened. “We’ve been breached by Zomblobs!  It’s an attack,” Someone said. “It was that goddamn Jenkins.  I told you he was too big to be trusted,” another said. I ran to follow them.  I had to try to help somehow.  The lights flicker and threaten to go out entirely.  Underground means no windows, and no windows means a total lack of electric light would be devastating.  We make it the front entrance and there’s a giant gaping hole where the metal doors used to be.  Hams and planets are spewing through the hole and waddling in towards us.  One of them has already grabbed the guard on duty.  The Zomblob starts biting and feasting on the guard’s stomach - ripping and tearing the flesh until a only a bloody hole is left.  Somehow his lungs still work enough to let him whimper in pain. I catch the eye of the Zomblob and she stares at me, blood dripping from her chins and grinning madly.  She mouths “I’m so hungry.” “Everyone, to the access shaft in the back.  It’s our only chance!” A voice screams.  It might have come from my throat, I can’t tell. We all start running back through the winding halls.  I hear a scream and a thump come from one of the rooms I pass.  I shouldn’t stop, I should run for my life, but this room belongs to the Carver family.  Five little children are in there.   I run into the room and see that a full blown planet has fallen on Jacob their oldest boy and is presently smothering him. “I can’t… breathe…” he gasps.  I run up and try to push the blob off him.  My hands and arms sink deep into the soft doughy flesh.  I can’t move the blob at all.  The boy ceases his struggle and becomes deathly still. Behind me I hear wet smacking noises.  I turn to see that three Zomblobs have squeezed into the room and they’re looking at me smacking their lips.  I’m trapped in here with them unless I use one of my lucky tokens; I only have two of them left. I reach into the leather holster strapped to my chest and pull out a single packaged Twinkie.  Instantly, I have their attention.  The sound of the unwrapping plastic excites them further and they start drooling.  As I wave the twinkie back and forth they follow it with their eyes.  I chuck it into the corner and they all waddle towards it screaming “SUGAHSSS!!” Saved by a fucking twinkie.   But wait, something is missing.  I can’t find my wife.  Is she in our room?  Is she in the hallway?  I can’t find her.  I’ve got to find her.  I start running.  The ground flows and stretches like taffy beneath my feet, and I can’t make any progress.  Move, goddamn it, MOVE! [End of the first story.  What follows is details on the background of the story] "Dawn of the obeast" is a zompocalypse universe I came up with awhile back. The basic premise is that all of the fat cells in the world have formed a hive mind and anyone with too high a fat percentage comes under the control of the hivemind.  The mind itself is intelligent and attempting to take over the world.  Some of the hyper fat zomblobs actually grow eyes, ears or a mouth that the hive mind will use directly.  They appear like this:https://i.sli.mg/tDgIDP.jpg To keep its drones working, happy and fed, it runs a massive chicken farm that breeds spherical chickens with no legs, thereby making a chicken food product that is 100% skin, and throw the rest away.   Originally I had intended this for FatPeopleStories, but ran into two issues.  First, it's really tricky, and frankly boring, to try and write stories where the narrative revolves around super fat people.  FPS states the stories should be about fat people, not just feature fat people. Second, when I tried to post it there, they told me that fictional stories always get out of control, so they didn't want a deliberately fictional story on their board.  I still kind of like the universe.  I like the notion of throwing the created world out there to see if anyone wants to make something within the confines of that universe, so I'm posting it here.   If you ever write anything in this universe, please message Magusontwowheels on Voat and tell.  I'd be delighted to read it :) Here are the other world details I've come up with just give a framework:  http://pastebin.com/0HpMMrSq I have another couple of stories, but they're about normal people trying to survive.  Far less about the zomblobs.  If people want to read more, I’ll post more.