What the hell is going on around here?

One crazy, fat bastard running amok in an all you can eat buffet—she could wrap her mind around that. But a restaurant stacked with monsters of obesity, too entranced by the food on their plates to even recognize an act of cannibalism happening right beside them—every one of them with that nothing-going-on-upstairs look—was too weird to be a coincidence. And the woman, oblivious to the pain in her leg, the pints of blood she was losing, more concerned with shoving more food down her gullet.

And now her own partner. As long as she’d known him, he’d always been a fat ass, but he had that look now. She genuinely worried for the sandwich man.

“Got any money? We’re starving, officer.”

Lola rolled her eyes open, expecting an emaciated transient with tattered clothing, matted facial hair, maybe a rotten odor. But when she saw what stood before her, she crinkled her brow and stood up straighter. She felt like she was trapped in a Stephen King novel or something.

A family of four. Dressed well enough, like any middle class family she supposed. But fat. Every one of them. Besides what looked like sauce stains of some kind, their clothes looked clean. They hadn’t been living in the street, she could tell that right away. But the longing in their eyes, the hopelessness in their faces—they were like the others.

Her hand, the murderous one, went toward her holster instinctively, but found nothing. The weapon was now evidence and she was left defenseless if this family decided she looked like a chicken dinner. Then, as her brain slowed down and her adrenal gland settled, she felt silly. A portly man and woman with their two kids.

Motherfucker, will this day ever end?

“Sir, do you guys need some help?”

The woman stepped forward. “Please, we need money. We have to eat.”

The rest of the family nodded. The kids’ eyes scanned the ground, Lola assumed for fallen change, but they licked their lips. She could hear their stomachs like distant thunderstorms. The boy bent down, plucked a black leather wallet from the street. The family’s eyes widened and they surrounded the boy as he searched it, but found nothing worthwhile and tossed it away. They sighed together.

“Why don’t I give you folks a ride home, hm?” She stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on the little girl’s back. The girl spun, her mouth open, teeth bared. Lola snapped her hand back and stared at the girl, awestruck, and then the girl went back to searching the street.

“We don’t need to go home. It’s the buffet we want. We need it,” the man said.

The family nodded.

“What did you say?”

“The buffet. We ran out of time...ran out of money. We’re in pain.”

“Can you help us?” the boy said.

“I...I don’t have any money. You folks should get on home.” Her eyes darted from person to person and the knot in her chest tightened. She held her breath as she watched the family sink in disappointment.