By Lillian Leibovich, Professionally Trapped Tower Princess
‘Tis no secret that belly fat is a danger to one’s health and well being. It maketh it difficult for knights to fit into their armor, and it createth a greater surface area on which one may be stabbed. It also preventeth womyn from being generally small and demure.
But how doth one solve the problem of belly fat?
According to apocalyptic physicians Lord Snortsonne, Lord Pygsmythe, and Lord Bacon, there is no faster way to lose belly fat than famine.
Spake Lord Snortsonne, “I have been a physician for nearly ten apocalypses, and never have I seen better results than when ye townesfolk have nothing to eat for a year or longer. It worketh even better than a turnip cleanse!”
In the words of Lord Pygsmythe, “It is my goal to make my patients feel comfortable in their own bubo-covered skin. And I assure thee, there is no better way to feel good about thyself than undergoing a cold, harsh winter of malnutrition.”
Lord Bacon agreed.
“Famine is indubitably difficult, but regarding the payoff, the villagers who tried it were raving. Mayhap,” spake he, “this was because they were delirious from starvation, but that is no matter when thou hast lost several pennyweights.”
In Lord Pygsmythe’s conversations with his colleagues at his College of Apocalyptic Physicians, he said that all have been equally enthusiastic about famine. One physician, who tried famine himself, hath been rather quiet of late, but according to Lord Pygsmythe, the results speak for themselves.
“He hath not moved from his chair in months and he is always covered in flies, but he hath not a salt spoon of fat on him, and he hath never been healthier!”
Lillian Leibovich ist a student of ye linguistics. Because she ist trapped in a tower, her tutor is her only friend, ye magickal tower possum, who himself hath a PhD in ye linguistics. Also because she ist trapped in a tower, Lillian hath much time on her hands, which is probably why her chosen hobbies art ye improvisation and crosswords.
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