You're at Fat Camp. Second day. You're hungry, and it's really starting to hurt. Badly.

You're here because your Significant Other finally badgered you into doing it. "For me," they said. You've been 300 pounds for most of your adult life, after a traumatic incident at a health spa. You don't hate yourself, you don't have a problem being fat. You're just fat.

It's day two. You and ten others are standing in a rough circle in a courtyard, morosely kicking a ball around while the Fat Camp Organisers are standing watch. Everyones effort is half hearted, as though their thoughts were on weightier matters. Which they are, their next meal.

You don't have a problem with your weight, but everyone around you does. You don't feel unhealthy, no matter what your doctor says. Your Significant Other has really been getting on your case though, and it's been weighing on your mind lately. You only decided to go to the camp because you're sick of the nagging.

You miss the ball, and watch as it rolls slowly past. You turn to walk after it, when the door to the courtyard opens. One of the camp coordinators carries out a small table and a plastic bag to the center of the courtyard, right in the middle of the group. From the bag he pulls a something that's familiar to all the people standing around, a packet of Tim Tams. He opens the packet, and puts it down on the table and steps back to address you all.

"There's a Tim Tam for everyone. Don't rush in yet." He pauses. "One of them is poisoned." And with that, he turns and walks back through the door.

You all stand around looking at the packet for a while. You know it's not a bluff, as you've lost other people from the camp from similar exercises. Still, everyone slowly reaches for the packet and takes a Tim Tam. You're all holding the Tim Tam's nervously. You don't want to be the one that dies, but you're really hungry and a Tim Tam would really hit the spot.

You meet eyes with everyone, as if you're weighing up the risks. There's eleven of you, and eleven Tim Tams. Someone is going to die. You know that it doesn't matter though, you know you're going to eat the Tim Tam.

You eat the Tim Tam.

(Inspired by Girls Are Pretty.)