Bob had a genetic condition. When he ate
food
he could hear the
fat
cells filling with lipid. He used to worry that other people could hear it to. Nobody else could. They could clearly see, however, that Bob did seem to convert food to adipose tissue near instantly.
His cardiologist told him not to worry. His fat was all subcutenous. None of that
visceral fat
. It was a miracle he said. He'd never seen a patient before who could put on this much subcutaneous fat without a hint of visceral. According to his internal organ health, Bob was clean as a brand new aluminum whistle.
Although his joints killed him. His chiropractor said he needed to lose weight.
"I don't give a damn what you're cardiologist says. You need to lose some weight, Bob. Scratch that. You need to lose a lot of weight."
Each pound of fat contained about 3500
calories
. So if he ran a 100 calorie deficit, then he'd lose about a pound a month. In theory. But he couldn't run a deficit. Whenever he moved more or ate less, his body seemed to adjust. No matter how low he went on the calories there his body was. Able to become more efficient. Eventually he couldn't walk.
Thankfully he didn't gain any more weight after that. He figured after losing the ability to walk he'd balloon in size until he finally died an early, hardly tragic death.
One day a professor and grad student requested to visit him. It was through his cardiologist.
"They say you're a miracle of thermal efficiency. They want to study you!"
Because Bob couldn't get out of his own house, the professor and grad student had to come see him. They brought a few technicians with them and setup a bunch of equipment. After running the tests they asked if they could leave the equipment there. "That way we won't have to setup again next time."
"Next time?" Bob asked.
The grad student came back three weeks later. Bob asked about the results. The grad student shrugged. Said it took time to interpret results. Bob gave a chuckle. The grad student acknowledged the chuckle and continued on with his measurements.
Eventually the professor came again. He shook Bob's hand then asked whether Bob would be open to being introduced to one of his colleagues.
"Anton is working on a new liposuction technique. In the past you could only remove about 10 or 15 pounds total. But now they can remove triple that! And they can do it regularly."
"And the thing that makes this a real breakthrough isn't the removal of adipose tissue. It's the ability to actually transplant the fat tissue onto someone else."
"Why the hell would anyone want to get fat?"
"In the future, with climate change... many people! We'll need a more efficient way to help the poorer people who can't afford food. Who knows if the climate will allow for the wealthier people to grow surplus food. They might have to instead donate their fat tissue instead."
Bob thought this was crazy. There was nobody crazy enough to do the opposite of liposuction. What would that even be called? Liboaddition?
For some reason Bob agreed. They would pay him. And he would lose weight for free. Why the fuck not?
He did this for a year. The scientists published a paper. They said that people were already benefiting off of his fat. Bob shrugged, didn't believe them.
----------
In the blue coated room. The sound of a laptop fan. Jimmy snored a few feet away. It was behind Dick's head. This comforted him. Casey was on the phone with someone down stairs in the living room.
Dick saw that he got an email. Why was he checking his email at this hour? Who could possibly emailing him now. First he had checked his phone. No texts. No calls. So it was logical to come here next. Maybe a professor would have updated the syllabus or something.
Yawning and about to shut off the machine, he saw the inbox flash. New message.
"Hi would you be interested in participating in a study? It would be paid."