Short Story I go for a run. I see a fatty on a bench. Fatty is wrapped in all the nicest running gear and drinking a diet coke. Two more passes and the coke level has moved more than fatty. Fourth pass... bench is empty, and I feel relief. Turn the corner and fatty is slogging down hill. "Who drinks coke before they run", I wonder to myself, and then to my horror I watch her lift her hand and draw a drink while slogging. Finish fourth circuit of park and run home.   Fine