Topic: Tales from 35,000ft: Behind the Beetus BeasT
Anonymous A started this discussion 10 years ago#48,392
I'm composing this on mobile, apologies for typos, as I'm on the last leg of my flight l, recovering, after having survived 9 hours locked in a cabin with Bob and Bertha Beetus. Thankfully I wasn't sitting next to them, but one row back and across the aisle. This was close enough by far, and far too close for comfort.
Bertha Beetus was maybe 5'5" and a good 250lbs. Bob was maybe 6' tall and easily the fattest person I've seen in the flesh in recent memory. A staggering 450lbs, easily. He could barely squeeze into the aisle to get to his seat, and he did not fit in the seat itself, his ample greasy flesh spilling over the arm rests and his rancid ass cheeks spilling forward over the seats edge as he sort of reclined into the woefully small seat.
Bob's feet were a horror. Advanced stages of gout had swollen his feet which were covered in sores, growths, and hard scaly patches. I know this because Bob's shoes were improvised flip flops, clearly hand made. I can only imagine normal shoes don't come in sizes that would fit over the swollen sacs of disease that passed for his feet. I'm not sure how he walked on these swollen growths, but they had to be painful.
How someone could let themselves go to that degree is beyond me.
But if appearances weren't enough, the true terror of this tale comes from the fact that it was a 9 hour nonstop to Paris, and as I had already mentioned Bob could barely fit in the aisle.
Did I mention it was a 9 hour trip?
What I first noticed was the smell, the rancid stench of feces waking me from my red eyed sleep mid-flight. I thought perhaps the lavatory (five rows back) had sprung a leak or had a disaster. Maybe I was just dreaming? But no, several other passengers began to react to the putrid smell of human waste. The flight attendant was called over, no the lavatory seemed ok, they weren't sure what the smell was.
As the crew searched for the source, the passenger ahead of me noticed the first real clue. Brown runny liquid dripping from Bob's seat cushion onto the aisle carpet, and pointed it out. The crew confronted Bob.
He was evidently wearing a diaper which was leaking and had just been shitting himself in his seat. Bob and Bertha immediately started accusing the crew of "fat shaming" and said Bob was simply too big to fit in the lavatory, had trouble walking because of his gout, and couldn't be expected to just hold it for nine whole hours.
I wish it ended here, but no. We had three long hours left to go, smelling Bob's shit and dealing with the aftermath. At one point the leaking fluid started again, Bob had evidently shat himself again without shame or remorse.
I'd love to end this story with the authorities accosting Bob at Charles DeGaul, or some other triumphant defeat of the subhuman monsters that were the Beetus Bunch, but the real world seldom works that way. The airplane cleared at an agonizingly slow pace once we were back at the gate, made all the worse by the increased pungency of Bob's Butt Stew when he heaved himself forward out of his seat spilling some of the contents of his leaking diaper onto the floor. The crew closed down that aisle and had to redirect passengers across seats to the opposing aisle due to the mess which of course just slowed things down even more.
As far as I know nothing was done to Bob and Bertha.
Seriously. What the fuck is wrong with people? How far do you have to sink to do this shit? Why doesn't the fact that you can't use a normal bathroom serve as a fucking wake up call? When is shitting yourself on an airplane a better option than eating less?