Chuck Gillis

Now, with no one to judge him for his eating decisions he felt no guilt for the crap he ate, justifying internally that he had found a level of happiness and simplicity that few could ever reach. Along those metrics of measurement, he was well on his way to nirvana. So few outside interactions brought much pleasure into his life, consequently these simple and self-indulgent actions were elevated in importance. They became ritualized.

He handled freshly opened packets of chili-cheese Fritos like a descending oxygen bag on a plummeting airplane, inhaling deeply to capture every vapor of the spicy goodness inside. He felt a deep internal satisfaction licking through the melted icing ridges that topped a vanilla Zinger, stopping only to wonder why he had never before realized the full utility of his tounge in other pursuits. Where he lacked friends, he found solace with a bevy of new plastic wrapped companions.