They went outside, huffing and puffing. It somehow seemed like a longer walk to school now that they were 300 pounds.
Everything looked strange. Most things were as expected, but no person on the street was anything less than massively overweight. They saw a bench with four people sitting on it--it was creaking under the weight. Every car that drove by had a driver who must weigh about 300 pounds--or rather, exactly 300 pounds.
Then they ran across the crying woman. She was in the middle of the sidewalk, standing with a broken baby carriage, but the baby in it was a horrible sight. A baby, weighing 300 pounds, bloated like a giant pink beach ball--and quite dead.
"What happened?" asked Jon.
"My baby... I don't know. She just died. Something feels funny but I can't remember what..."
"Wait a minute," said Karyn. "Your baby looked like that when you brought here, right?"
"Yes..." said the upset mother.
"But that's impossible. How did you fit the baby in the carriage?"
"I don't remember."
"How could a baby live like that?"
"I don't remember."
Karyn whispered to Jon, "You really screwed up this time, you know? You'd better do something to fix it."
