When Dogs Walk Humans

Dave turns the corner into the alley off of Capital Street into the wash of incandescent headlights from a presumably loaded vehicle. With the flip of a proverbial switch, Dave’s alter-ego consumes him, as he becomes ‘that kid your parents told you to avoid’ in high school. Times have changed. Instead of stealthily slipping a twenty dollar bill to a hooded figure on a street corner in exchange for an escape from reality, it is now an escape to a euphoric world of trans fat and carbs. Once the hub of cocaine and heroine sales, Capital Street now brings people to the final fine line of life versus death. Obesity is now punishable by death and what was once considered junk food is now a gateway to what these fascist pigs consider a life of crime. Those who brave the precipice of the approach to 25 on the BMI scale do so in back alleyways and in slums, once reserved for prostitutes and dealers of substances much higher on the lethality scale.
“What do you have for me?” Dave says with a tremor in his voice. His heart feels like the entire NBA is dribbling a basketball inside his chest. 
“Choco-tacos, Doritos, or an icy cold Toll House sandwich.” says the dealer who couldn’t be more than fifteen. 
“Twenty for the Doritos.”
“Do I look like a fucking pantry to you? Thirty or you can get lost.”
“Twenty five and I don’t turn you into the vegetable the government wants on your plate.”
“Deal.” 
The kid reaches into his coat and pulls out the obligatory bag of air we are all much too accustomed to. Dave tosses two crisp bills into the fetid smelling Buick and trots back towards the apartment with the contraband inside his backpack. As he reaches his apartment, Dave couldn’t help but notice the hoards of black and whites across the street. He has stumbled upon something truly bombastic. The police are pulling people out of their cars and shoving them onto industrial sized scales while other officers savagely tear into the victim’s vehicle like junkyard dogs on a determined search for contraband. 
Dave returns to his apartment, which is now a safe haven for what society has deemed an atrocity equivalent to murder. Though not obese, when junk food is in the equation, Dave adopts a dietary routine only seen on the likes of Real Housewives or Jersey Shore. Binge starve binge starve. It is an endless cycle like drugs once were. Does the government have an obligation to people and to their bodies? Is this the answer or are we compounding our problems as a society?