I woke up with a shudder after troubling dreams that I already couldn't remember. I lay in bed for at least half an hour more, desperately telling myself I wasn't enjoying lying there and that I had to get to work or I'd be late again for the fourteenth day in a row. Eventually I made my way up onto my elbows, and then to sitting on the side of the bed. My pyjamas were still moist from sweat and I could smell them. I peeled off my top and dropped it on the floor. With my half-open eyes I looked down and was depressed to see my belly sitting on my lap like a bald and apathetic pet. I stumbled into the bathroom and sat on the toilet, really just to have an excuse to sit for a while longer.
The bathroom scales looked back at me as I sat, the two glaring red zeros on its display outstaring me easily, and I looked away, ashamed and judged. Once the toilet was flushed I knew there was no way of putting it off any longer and stepped out of my pyjamas and onto the scales to watch its eyes roll.
I jumped as a loud alarm sounded from the scales and a flashbulb went off. "Winner!" was scrolling across the screen again and again. And then from somewhere inside the scales came a familiar voice. It was the voice of that northern quiz show host, the one with the endless enthusiasm and all that personality.
"Congratulations. You've hit the jackpot weight. One million pounds and a holiday of a lifetime to the Four Seasons resort in the Seychelles. Don't Delay! Take this print out to your local post office to claim your prize today!"
I watched as a piece of paper printed out from a slot I'd never noticed before on the front. On it was a picture of me just seconds before from the scales point of view. Short legs, a withered little penis, a pot belly, double chin and a startled ruddy face. I sighed. I could never take it to the post office of course, which was a shame, because I really could have done with that million, and a holiday would have been a delight.