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Let me introduce you to Bill Ovrites. Bill's a nice guy, he works hard, he loves his wife, but Bill eats too much, and he knows it.
Not unlike another person I'd like you to meet, Charta. Unusual name, hey? Well Charta isn't such an unusual name in Burkino Faso, which is where Charta was born. Well, it was Upper Volta back then, but for the purpose of this story, that's not important.
Now I could tell you any number of stories about this couple. I could tell you about how Bill discovered Charta hiding in a huge box going through customs, and how he was so amazed by her, that he married her a week later. I could tell you about some of their strange sexual practices, which probably explain why the couple remains childless. But no, those stories aren't suitable right now. What I can tell you about though, is the diet of the Ovrites.
It started in summer, as these things so often do. The sun came out, it was hot, they wore less clothes, and each realised how much bigger they'd become since that wedding day in a register office near Heathrow airport just three years ago. They put it down to how comfortable they were around each other, felt they no longer had to live up to a certain body image portrayed by the media. Were they comfortable with this now they'd realised it? Damn, no! Charta wasn't the kind of girl to go about things half-heartedly. When the house needed painting it didn't get a quick splash of fresh colour, the whole place was given a thorough makeover.
So out went all of the biscuits, the tin rinsed clean of every crumb.
Out went the ice-creams, left on the front porch to melt, them licked up by a wandering Dalmatian. Out went the crisps, each packet stamped upon then swept up and thrown in the bin. And out went the cola, poured onto the drive to help clear up the oil stains. One trip to the supermarket later all of these things were replaced. They didn't need biscuits, they had Ryvita. They didn't need ice-cream, they had low fat yoghurts. They didn't need crisps, they had rice-cakes. They didn't need cola, they had low calorie sugar free diet lemonade.
Charta was happy, it was something she wanted to do, get back in shape for herself, and for her husband. Bill was no different in his desire, he wanted his wife to find him more attractive, but Bill missed his treats. He missed that satisfied feeling he used to get after stuffing himself full of barbecue, followed up by a tub of ice-cream. The Ryvita and rice-cakes didn't do the trick, they left a nothing but an emptiness. The only think that Bill was thankful for was that it was not a nutritious shake for breakfast, another for lunch, and a proper dinner. Charta had picked up the tub one afternoon whilst shopping, but Bill had managed to dissuade her from buying it by tempting her with new shoes.
This went on for some months, Charta and Bill shedding the pounds, having to wear belts to keep their clothes on, and they both felt happier with their bodies. Their sex life got back to the way it had been when they first got together, but Bill wasn't entirely happy. Charta had given it all up so easily, but even after all of this time, the thought of tucking into a Mars bar was still an appealing one - maybe not more so that peeling off Charta's clothes, but it was getting stronger.
It wasn't long before Bill broke. Late one night whilst Charta slept he made his way down to the local all night supermarket. He hurriedly scanned the aisles for something to satisfy his craving, but there were huge cages full of products to be stacked on the shelves sitting in the aisles, and he could see nothing he wanted. He walked past the bakery section, but the shelves were almost empty, and they weren't likely to bring out anything fresh at that hour. He walked down the freezer aisle looking for his favourite flavour ice cream, but they'd sold out. He considered other flavours, chocolate brownie, no, lemon sorbet, no, strawberry cheesecake... no but cheesecake, that sounded good. The biscuit bottom, the creamy middle bit, oh and the fruity topping, yes, that was what he wanted. They were some just a little further down the aisle, and he grabbed the first one he saw, a huge black cherry cheesecake, and rushed for the checkout, fumbling for change in his pocket as he did so.
He dashed back home, and carefully opened the door. He checked on
Charta, make sure she wasn't about to wake, and went for a spoon. He tore open the box, and struck the spoon against the frozen solid fruit. He almost cried. Had he not feared waking Charta, he would have sobbed like a baby, but he knew he couldn't let her down, and let her see him like that. He placed the cheesecake back in the box and shoved it into the fridge, covering it up as best as he could, and he headed off to bed.
Morning came, as it so regularly does after night, and Bill woke to see that Charta was already out of bed. Quick as a flash, he was up and into the kitchen. He checked the fridge, and it didn't look like it had been seen.
Whilst his head was in the fridge he felt fingers on the back of his neck. He turned to see Charta, and slammed the fridge door shut. Quickly, he had to make an excuse, stop her from going into the fridge, so he said he was going to bring her breakfast. Said they could have it out on the patio, as it looked a nice morning.
That's how the day passed, every time that Charta went to get up, Bill would too, checking that she didn't go into the fridge. He ended up fetching her glasses of low calorie lemonade all morning, and making lunch, just to keep his cheesecake secret. By mid-afternoon he was exhausted, and sitting in the comfortable garden chair, he fell asleep.
Hours later he woke, and immediately he panicked. Charta was sat down beside him, and didn’t look to be at all angry. He got up, said he was going to the loo – which he did – then checked on his cheesecake. Still it looked undisturbed, so he made his way back to the patio. As he arrived, Charta was getting up, Bill quizzed her, and was relieved to find that she was just popping to the store. Bill knew that the moment was close, and the cheesecake would soon be his. He waited until he could no longer hear the car then grabbed a spoon, and went to the fridge to fetch his prize.
He pulled it out of the box, and stuck the spoon right in, then into his mouth. Seconds later he spat it out onto the floor, and had take a drink to wash the taste away. It didn’t taste like cheesecake at all, the biscuit was not at all sweet, and the cream tasted more like low fat yoghurt.
That’s when he heard the car return. Seconds later Charta walked in, laughing. Bill looked at the cheesecake, and realised what she’d done, replacing the biscuit and cream of the cheesecake with crushed Ryvita and yoghurt whilst he slept. Charta looked at the cheesecake and laughed some more. Bill looked at what he’d spat on the floor and started laughing too.
Then from the shopping bag in her hand Charta pulled out a tub of Bill’s favourite ice-cream, just a little one though, but more than enough to keep Bill happy. Especially when Charta decided that they should eat it in the bedroom.
Not unlike another person I'd like you to meet, Charta. Unusual name, hey? Well Charta isn't such an unusual name in Burkino Faso, which is where Charta was born. Well, it was Upper Volta back then, but for the purpose of this story, that's not important.
Now I could tell you any number of stories about this couple. I could tell you about how Bill discovered Charta hiding in a huge box going through customs, and how he was so amazed by her, that he married her a week later. I could tell you about some of their strange sexual practices, which probably explain why the couple remains childless. But no, those stories aren't suitable right now. What I can tell you about though, is the diet of the Ovrites.
It started in summer, as these things so often do. The sun came out, it was hot, they wore less clothes, and each realised how much bigger they'd become since that wedding day in a register office near Heathrow airport just three years ago. They put it down to how comfortable they were around each other, felt they no longer had to live up to a certain body image portrayed by the media. Were they comfortable with this now they'd realised it? Damn, no! Charta wasn't the kind of girl to go about things half-heartedly. When the house needed painting it didn't get a quick splash of fresh colour, the whole place was given a thorough makeover.
So out went all of the biscuits, the tin rinsed clean of every crumb.
Out went the ice-creams, left on the front porch to melt, them licked up by a wandering Dalmatian. Out went the crisps, each packet stamped upon then swept up and thrown in the bin. And out went the cola, poured onto the drive to help clear up the oil stains. One trip to the supermarket later all of these things were replaced. They didn't need biscuits, they had Ryvita. They didn't need ice-cream, they had low fat yoghurts. They didn't need crisps, they had rice-cakes. They didn't need cola, they had low calorie sugar free diet lemonade.
Charta was happy, it was something she wanted to do, get back in shape for herself, and for her husband. Bill was no different in his desire, he wanted his wife to find him more attractive, but Bill missed his treats. He missed that satisfied feeling he used to get after stuffing himself full of barbecue, followed up by a tub of ice-cream. The Ryvita and rice-cakes didn't do the trick, they left a nothing but an emptiness. The only think that Bill was thankful for was that it was not a nutritious shake for breakfast, another for lunch, and a proper dinner. Charta had picked up the tub one afternoon whilst shopping, but Bill had managed to dissuade her from buying it by tempting her with new shoes.
This went on for some months, Charta and Bill shedding the pounds, having to wear belts to keep their clothes on, and they both felt happier with their bodies. Their sex life got back to the way it had been when they first got together, but Bill wasn't entirely happy. Charta had given it all up so easily, but even after all of this time, the thought of tucking into a Mars bar was still an appealing one - maybe not more so that peeling off Charta's clothes, but it was getting stronger.
It wasn't long before Bill broke. Late one night whilst Charta slept he made his way down to the local all night supermarket. He hurriedly scanned the aisles for something to satisfy his craving, but there were huge cages full of products to be stacked on the shelves sitting in the aisles, and he could see nothing he wanted. He walked past the bakery section, but the shelves were almost empty, and they weren't likely to bring out anything fresh at that hour. He walked down the freezer aisle looking for his favourite flavour ice cream, but they'd sold out. He considered other flavours, chocolate brownie, no, lemon sorbet, no, strawberry cheesecake... no but cheesecake, that sounded good. The biscuit bottom, the creamy middle bit, oh and the fruity topping, yes, that was what he wanted. They were some just a little further down the aisle, and he grabbed the first one he saw, a huge black cherry cheesecake, and rushed for the checkout, fumbling for change in his pocket as he did so.
He dashed back home, and carefully opened the door. He checked on
Charta, make sure she wasn't about to wake, and went for a spoon. He tore open the box, and struck the spoon against the frozen solid fruit. He almost cried. Had he not feared waking Charta, he would have sobbed like a baby, but he knew he couldn't let her down, and let her see him like that. He placed the cheesecake back in the box and shoved it into the fridge, covering it up as best as he could, and he headed off to bed.
Morning came, as it so regularly does after night, and Bill woke to see that Charta was already out of bed. Quick as a flash, he was up and into the kitchen. He checked the fridge, and it didn't look like it had been seen.
Whilst his head was in the fridge he felt fingers on the back of his neck. He turned to see Charta, and slammed the fridge door shut. Quickly, he had to make an excuse, stop her from going into the fridge, so he said he was going to bring her breakfast. Said they could have it out on the patio, as it looked a nice morning.
That's how the day passed, every time that Charta went to get up, Bill would too, checking that she didn't go into the fridge. He ended up fetching her glasses of low calorie lemonade all morning, and making lunch, just to keep his cheesecake secret. By mid-afternoon he was exhausted, and sitting in the comfortable garden chair, he fell asleep.
Hours later he woke, and immediately he panicked. Charta was sat down beside him, and didn’t look to be at all angry. He got up, said he was going to the loo – which he did – then checked on his cheesecake. Still it looked undisturbed, so he made his way back to the patio. As he arrived, Charta was getting up, Bill quizzed her, and was relieved to find that she was just popping to the store. Bill knew that the moment was close, and the cheesecake would soon be his. He waited until he could no longer hear the car then grabbed a spoon, and went to the fridge to fetch his prize.
He pulled it out of the box, and stuck the spoon right in, then into his mouth. Seconds later he spat it out onto the floor, and had take a drink to wash the taste away. It didn’t taste like cheesecake at all, the biscuit was not at all sweet, and the cream tasted more like low fat yoghurt.
That’s when he heard the car return. Seconds later Charta walked in, laughing. Bill looked at the cheesecake, and realised what she’d done, replacing the biscuit and cream of the cheesecake with crushed Ryvita and yoghurt whilst he slept. Charta looked at the cheesecake and laughed some more. Bill looked at what he’d spat on the floor and started laughing too.
Then from the shopping bag in her hand Charta pulled out a tub of Bill’s favourite ice-cream, just a little one though, but more than enough to keep Bill happy. Especially when Charta decided that they should eat it in the bedroom.
Fabulous. I can't believe I missed this earlier and didn't even realise I'd not read an entry by you.
Light and cheerfully fun to read.
Low fat cheesecake? Been there, tried that, binned it. You're right it doesn't work but the rewards seem pleasent enough :)
Light and cheerfully fun to read.
Low fat cheesecake? Been there, tried that, binned it. You're right it doesn't work but the rewards seem pleasent enough :)
A happy fairytale story which will probably win. I could never write something as light as this, for some reason. Well done.
Great stuff, and seamlessly easy to read as well. Some bits didn't make complete sense, but thats to be expected with work like this. This won't be far off winning the competition.
Brilliant. Wonderful. Amazing. Spiffing. Extraordinary. 10/10. I loved it etc.
Talk about modern day fairytale. :D
Fantastic. You know, a book of tales like this would be excellent.
Fantastic. You know, a book of tales like this would be excellent.
Let me introduce you to Bill Ovrites. Bill's a nice guy, he works hard, he loves his wife, but Bill eats too much, and he knows it.
Not unlike another person I'd like you to meet, Charta. Unusual name, hey? Well Charta isn't such an unusual name in Burkino Faso, which is where Charta was born. Well, it was Upper Volta back then, but for the purpose of this story, that's not important.
Now I could tell you any number of stories about this couple. I could tell you about how Bill discovered Charta hiding in a huge box going through customs, and how he was so amazed by her, that he married her a week later. I could tell you about some of their strange sexual practices, which probably explain why the couple remains childless. But no, those stories aren't suitable right now. What I can tell you about though, is the diet of the Ovrites.
It started in summer, as these things so often do. The sun came out, it was hot, they wore less clothes, and each realised how much bigger they'd become since that wedding day in a register office near Heathrow airport just three years ago. They put it down to how comfortable they were around each other, felt they no longer had to live up to a certain body image portrayed by the media. Were they comfortable with this now they'd realised it? Damn, no! Charta wasn't the kind of girl to go about things half-heartedly. When the house needed painting it didn't get a quick splash of fresh colour, the whole place was given a thorough makeover.
So out went all of the biscuits, the tin rinsed clean of every crumb.
Out went the ice-creams, left on the front porch to melt, them licked up by a wandering Dalmatian. Out went the crisps, each packet stamped upon then swept up and thrown in the bin. And out went the cola, poured onto the drive to help clear up the oil stains. One trip to the supermarket later all of these things were replaced. They didn't need biscuits, they had Ryvita. They didn't need ice-cream, they had low fat yoghurts. They didn't need crisps, they had rice-cakes. They didn't need cola, they had low calorie sugar free diet lemonade.
Charta was happy, it was something she wanted to do, get back in shape for herself, and for her husband. Bill was no different in his desire, he wanted his wife to find him more attractive, but Bill missed his treats. He missed that satisfied feeling he used to get after stuffing himself full of barbecue, followed up by a tub of ice-cream. The Ryvita and rice-cakes didn't do the trick, they left a nothing but an emptiness. The only think that Bill was thankful for was that it was not a nutritious shake for breakfast, another for lunch, and a proper dinner. Charta had picked up the tub one afternoon whilst shopping, but Bill had managed to dissuade her from buying it by tempting her with new shoes.
This went on for some months, Charta and Bill shedding the pounds, having to wear belts to keep their clothes on, and they both felt happier with their bodies. Their sex life got back to the way it had been when they first got together, but Bill wasn't entirely happy. Charta had given it all up so easily, but even after all of this time, the thought of tucking into a Mars bar was still an appealing one - maybe not more so that peeling off Charta's clothes, but it was getting stronger.
It wasn't long before Bill broke. Late one night whilst Charta slept he made his way down to the local all night supermarket. He hurriedly scanned the aisles for something to satisfy his craving, but there were huge cages full of products to be stacked on the shelves sitting in the aisles, and he could see nothing he wanted. He walked past the bakery section, but the shelves were almost empty, and they weren't likely to bring out anything fresh at that hour. He walked down the freezer aisle looking for his favourite flavour ice cream, but they'd sold out. He considered other flavours, chocolate brownie, no, lemon sorbet, no, strawberry cheesecake... no but cheesecake, that sounded good. The biscuit bottom, the creamy middle bit, oh and the fruity topping, yes, that was what he wanted. They were some just a little further down the aisle, and he grabbed the first one he saw, a huge black cherry cheesecake, and rushed for the checkout, fumbling for change in his pocket as he did so.
He dashed back home, and carefully opened the door. He checked on
Charta, make sure she wasn't about to wake, and went for a spoon. He tore open the box, and struck the spoon against the frozen solid fruit. He almost cried. Had he not feared waking Charta, he would have sobbed like a baby, but he knew he couldn't let her down, and let her see him like that. He placed the cheesecake back in the box and shoved it into the fridge, covering it up as best as he could, and he headed off to bed.
Morning came, as it so regularly does after night, and Bill woke to see that Charta was already out of bed. Quick as a flash, he was up and into the kitchen. He checked the fridge, and it didn't look like it had been seen.
Whilst his head was in the fridge he felt fingers on the back of his neck. He turned to see Charta, and slammed the fridge door shut. Quickly, he had to make an excuse, stop her from going into the fridge, so he said he was going to bring her breakfast. Said they could have it out on the patio, as it looked a nice morning.
That's how the day passed, every time that Charta went to get up, Bill would too, checking that she didn't go into the fridge. He ended up fetching her glasses of low calorie lemonade all morning, and making lunch, just to keep his cheesecake secret. By mid-afternoon he was exhausted, and sitting in the comfortable garden chair, he fell asleep.
Hours later he woke, and immediately he panicked. Charta was sat down beside him, and didn’t look to be at all angry. He got up, said he was going to the loo – which he did – then checked on his cheesecake. Still it looked undisturbed, so he made his way back to the patio. As he arrived, Charta was getting up, Bill quizzed her, and was relieved to find that she was just popping to the store. Bill knew that the moment was close, and the cheesecake would soon be his. He waited until he could no longer hear the car then grabbed a spoon, and went to the fridge to fetch his prize.
He pulled it out of the box, and stuck the spoon right in, then into his mouth. Seconds later he spat it out onto the floor, and had take a drink to wash the taste away. It didn’t taste like cheesecake at all, the biscuit was not at all sweet, and the cream tasted more like low fat yoghurt.
That’s when he heard the car return. Seconds later Charta walked in, laughing. Bill looked at the cheesecake, and realised what she’d done, replacing the biscuit and cream of the cheesecake with crushed Ryvita and yoghurt whilst he slept. Charta looked at the cheesecake and laughed some more. Bill looked at what he’d spat on the floor and started laughing too.
Then from the shopping bag in her hand Charta pulled out a tub of Bill’s favourite ice-cream, just a little one though, but more than enough to keep Bill happy. Especially when Charta decided that they should eat it in the bedroom.
Not unlike another person I'd like you to meet, Charta. Unusual name, hey? Well Charta isn't such an unusual name in Burkino Faso, which is where Charta was born. Well, it was Upper Volta back then, but for the purpose of this story, that's not important.
Now I could tell you any number of stories about this couple. I could tell you about how Bill discovered Charta hiding in a huge box going through customs, and how he was so amazed by her, that he married her a week later. I could tell you about some of their strange sexual practices, which probably explain why the couple remains childless. But no, those stories aren't suitable right now. What I can tell you about though, is the diet of the Ovrites.
It started in summer, as these things so often do. The sun came out, it was hot, they wore less clothes, and each realised how much bigger they'd become since that wedding day in a register office near Heathrow airport just three years ago. They put it down to how comfortable they were around each other, felt they no longer had to live up to a certain body image portrayed by the media. Were they comfortable with this now they'd realised it? Damn, no! Charta wasn't the kind of girl to go about things half-heartedly. When the house needed painting it didn't get a quick splash of fresh colour, the whole place was given a thorough makeover.
So out went all of the biscuits, the tin rinsed clean of every crumb.
Out went the ice-creams, left on the front porch to melt, them licked up by a wandering Dalmatian. Out went the crisps, each packet stamped upon then swept up and thrown in the bin. And out went the cola, poured onto the drive to help clear up the oil stains. One trip to the supermarket later all of these things were replaced. They didn't need biscuits, they had Ryvita. They didn't need ice-cream, they had low fat yoghurts. They didn't need crisps, they had rice-cakes. They didn't need cola, they had low calorie sugar free diet lemonade.
Charta was happy, it was something she wanted to do, get back in shape for herself, and for her husband. Bill was no different in his desire, he wanted his wife to find him more attractive, but Bill missed his treats. He missed that satisfied feeling he used to get after stuffing himself full of barbecue, followed up by a tub of ice-cream. The Ryvita and rice-cakes didn't do the trick, they left a nothing but an emptiness. The only think that Bill was thankful for was that it was not a nutritious shake for breakfast, another for lunch, and a proper dinner. Charta had picked up the tub one afternoon whilst shopping, but Bill had managed to dissuade her from buying it by tempting her with new shoes.
This went on for some months, Charta and Bill shedding the pounds, having to wear belts to keep their clothes on, and they both felt happier with their bodies. Their sex life got back to the way it had been when they first got together, but Bill wasn't entirely happy. Charta had given it all up so easily, but even after all of this time, the thought of tucking into a Mars bar was still an appealing one - maybe not more so that peeling off Charta's clothes, but it was getting stronger.
It wasn't long before Bill broke. Late one night whilst Charta slept he made his way down to the local all night supermarket. He hurriedly scanned the aisles for something to satisfy his craving, but there were huge cages full of products to be stacked on the shelves sitting in the aisles, and he could see nothing he wanted. He walked past the bakery section, but the shelves were almost empty, and they weren't likely to bring out anything fresh at that hour. He walked down the freezer aisle looking for his favourite flavour ice cream, but they'd sold out. He considered other flavours, chocolate brownie, no, lemon sorbet, no, strawberry cheesecake... no but cheesecake, that sounded good. The biscuit bottom, the creamy middle bit, oh and the fruity topping, yes, that was what he wanted. They were some just a little further down the aisle, and he grabbed the first one he saw, a huge black cherry cheesecake, and rushed for the checkout, fumbling for change in his pocket as he did so.
He dashed back home, and carefully opened the door. He checked on
Charta, make sure she wasn't about to wake, and went for a spoon. He tore open the box, and struck the spoon against the frozen solid fruit. He almost cried. Had he not feared waking Charta, he would have sobbed like a baby, but he knew he couldn't let her down, and let her see him like that. He placed the cheesecake back in the box and shoved it into the fridge, covering it up as best as he could, and he headed off to bed.
Morning came, as it so regularly does after night, and Bill woke to see that Charta was already out of bed. Quick as a flash, he was up and into the kitchen. He checked the fridge, and it didn't look like it had been seen.
Whilst his head was in the fridge he felt fingers on the back of his neck. He turned to see Charta, and slammed the fridge door shut. Quickly, he had to make an excuse, stop her from going into the fridge, so he said he was going to bring her breakfast. Said they could have it out on the patio, as it looked a nice morning.
That's how the day passed, every time that Charta went to get up, Bill would too, checking that she didn't go into the fridge. He ended up fetching her glasses of low calorie lemonade all morning, and making lunch, just to keep his cheesecake secret. By mid-afternoon he was exhausted, and sitting in the comfortable garden chair, he fell asleep.
Hours later he woke, and immediately he panicked. Charta was sat down beside him, and didn’t look to be at all angry. He got up, said he was going to the loo – which he did – then checked on his cheesecake. Still it looked undisturbed, so he made his way back to the patio. As he arrived, Charta was getting up, Bill quizzed her, and was relieved to find that she was just popping to the store. Bill knew that the moment was close, and the cheesecake would soon be his. He waited until he could no longer hear the car then grabbed a spoon, and went to the fridge to fetch his prize.
He pulled it out of the box, and stuck the spoon right in, then into his mouth. Seconds later he spat it out onto the floor, and had take a drink to wash the taste away. It didn’t taste like cheesecake at all, the biscuit was not at all sweet, and the cream tasted more like low fat yoghurt.
That’s when he heard the car return. Seconds later Charta walked in, laughing. Bill looked at the cheesecake, and realised what she’d done, replacing the biscuit and cream of the cheesecake with crushed Ryvita and yoghurt whilst he slept. Charta looked at the cheesecake and laughed some more. Bill looked at what he’d spat on the floor and started laughing too.
Then from the shopping bag in her hand Charta pulled out a tub of Bill’s favourite ice-cream, just a little one though, but more than enough to keep Bill happy. Especially when Charta decided that they should eat it in the bedroom.