Fat Kid Rules the World
by K. L. Going
Subjects: Obesity, Suicide, Drug Abuse, Relationships,
Musicians
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Suggested Staging: Narrator
behind a lectern. Troy standing in an open area looking down. Curt
slumped a short distance behind Troy sitting on the floor leaning against a
chair.
Troy: (looking down at floor the whole
time): "I'm a sweating fat kid standing on the edge of the subway platform
staring at the tracks. I'm seventeen years old, weigh 296 pounds, and I'm
six-foot-one. I have a crew cut, yes a crew cut, sallow skin, and the
kind of mouth that puckers when I breathe. I'm wearing a shirt that reads MIAMI
BEACH-SPRING BREAK 1997, and huge, bland tan pants -- the only kind of paints I
own. Eight pairs, all tan.
It's Sunday afternoon and
I'm standing just over the yellow line trying to decide whether people would
laugh if I jumped. Would it be funny if the Fat Kid got splattered by a
subway train? Is that funny? I'm not being facetious; I really want to know.
Like it or not, apparently there's something funny about fat people. Something
unpredictable. Like when I put on my jacket and everyone in the hallway stifles
laughter. Or when I stand up after sitting in the cafeteria and Jennifer Maraday,
Brook Rodriguez, and Amy Glover all bust a gut. I don't get angry. I just think,
What was funny about that? Did my butt jiggle? Did I make the bench creak so
that it sounded like a fart? Did I leave an indentation? There's got to be
something, right? Right?
So it's not a stretch to
be standing on the wrong side of the yellow line giving serious thought to
whether people would laugh if I threw myself in front of the F train. And
that's the one thing that can't happen. People can't laugh. Even I
deserve a decent suicide. That's why I'm standing here. Because I can't make up
my mind. . . I close my eyes and imagine the whole scene as it might play out.
First, the train is
coming, its single headlight illuminates the dark tracks. I hear its deep rumble
and take the fateful step forward. I want to picture myself flying dramatically
through the air but realize I wouldn't have the muscle power to launch my body.
Instead, I would plummet straight down. Maybe I wouldn't even get my other
leg off the platform--my weight would pull me down like an anchor. That's how I
see it. The train plows into me; my fat busts apart, expands to cover the train
window and the tunnel walls. I'm splattered. Except for my left leg, which is
lying on the platform untouched--a fat bleeding hunk of raw meat. FAT KID MESSES
UP--coming soon to a theater near you." (Starting to laugh) "There's
something funny about it. I swear to God. There really is."
Curt: (sounding paranoid) "You
laughing at me?
Troy: (turning around look around for
Curt but don't see him ): "Huh"
Curt: "You're laughing at
me?"
Troy: (still looking wildly about -
before locating him -- pause a moment to look at him -- look up and address the
audience) He looks like a blond ferret. Stringy unwashed hair and huge eyes,
jeans that are barely recognizable, stained white T-shirt, huge red overshirt,
ratty old sweater...The sneakers, one Converse and one Nike, are both untied and
the layers are all partially buttoned even though it's got to be one hundred
degrees in the subway. The guy is so filthy I can hardly look at him. I mean,
he's caked--looks like an old war victim from some black-and-white
film.
There's one more thing I
notice--and if I'm telling the truth I should admit that I noticed it first.
He's the skinniest person I've ever seen.
Narrator: To
find out how a skinny strung out punk rock guitarist who believes Troy owes
him because he “saved him” changes Troy’s life from fat kid to fat kid
rules the world read K.L. Going's novel, Fat Kid Rules the World.
Reader's
Theater Script prepared by Janice Bailey, East Central High Librarian