Emmett threw on a hoodie from his suitcase while Lizette found parking in the public lot. The garment
was now three sizes too big, but with the hood up and sunglasses on, he might just about get by
unnoticed, hopefully in time for the prime midday posting window.
Lizette insisted on going with him. “Last time I let you out of my sight, you ate a guy.” But as they
reached the st eps of the museum, Joanna texted. “Shit. My mom’s gonna be here in a few minutes.”
“I’ll wait out here for her. Don’t be long.” He headed up the stairs and through the entrance, cursing
under his breath as he spotted his former coworker Ry behind the ticket desk. He considered turning
back, but there was no telling if he’d have another chance. The police might already have a warrant for
his arrest.
“Good morning,” she said as he approached. “Just one adult today?” He nodded, pleased that she hadn’t
recognized him. “Just to let you know, California Tower is closed for r epairs—” She broke off, her stray
glance doubling back. “Emmett? Is that you?”
His head spun, checking to see who’d heard. “You can’t be here,” Ry said. “You know you’ve been fired,
right? And—” “Shhh, please.” “Aaron didn’t show up to work today,” she whispered. “No one’s been
able to reach him.”
“Look, I’m not here to make trouble—” “What happened to you?” Her gaze roved over his face, down to
his hands. “You’re so fucking thin.” “Forget about that.”
“Is it the Obexi-whatever?” “Ry! I’m begging you. Just let me pay and I’ll be out of here in five
minutes.” A family joined the line for tickets. Making a split-second decision, Ry cleared her throat and
announced, “That’ll be $19.95.”
Relieved, Emmett paid by card. She handed him his ticket, her eyes warning him not to do anything
stupid. “Enjoy your visit,” she said through gritted teeth. The dome-ceilinged main hall admitted him
with a church-like solemnity, his footst eps echoing a muttered devotion. After the busy season of the
winter holidays, the museum was all but empty. Still he k ept his head down as he took the stairs to the
second floor, passing a cluster of chattering volunteers. One of them, a woman he’d talked to a couple of
times, caught his eye, her expression opaque.
Emmett hurried on, following the path he and Lizette had trod months earlier and never since. By the
time he began working at the museum, he’d had enough misgivings about his condition to put him off the
exhibition for good, as if he might enter to find his own photo displayed there, between the Aztec heart-
eaters and the “savages” of Erromango.
He hurried down the hall of popular cannibals and moved swiftly through the mazelike exhibition hall,
his gaze shifting from one display to the next. He rounded a corner, and there it was: the portrait he’d
been thinking about since he realized that Cecil H. Smith and C. Hank Stauder were one and the same
man. Emmett took in the blood-spattered d epiction of Sir Percival Blount, the seventeenth-century
baronet who boasted that a medicinal tonic had restored his health and left him ravenous for human meat.
Emmett’s gaze paused on the glass vial lying unstoppered on the table. He’d always thought it was
empty, but now he noticed an almost imperc eptible dab of sky blue, the last drop of whatever Blount had
just drained from it.
That wasn’t the only thing he’d overlooked last time he was here. He made sure to include it in the photo
he took of the painting, then immediately posted to Instagram.
Appendix Y—Instagram Post
thetrueme. by. emmett. t 217 posts 49,968 followers 2,021 following Emmett Truesdale Inspiring your
#Weight Loss journey by living my own. Obexity brand ambassador. linktr. ee/thetrueme
thetrueme. by. emmett. t Museum of Us PHOTO DESCRIPTION: Portrait of a Man-eater, artist unknown,
on display in the Museum of Us in San Diego, CA.
Underneath, a plaque reads, “Made possible by the generosity of Cecil H. Smith, Ph D.” 12,935 likes
thetrueme. by. emmett. t I know I hurt many of you by not being up front with you. I get it, and I’m not
going to make that mistake again. No matter what the consequences may be, here’s the truth and nothing
else.
Buckle up—this is going to be a wild ride.
In May this year I joined a clinical trial, run by @monsterabiosciences, of a new “miracle” weight loss
drug called Obexity. After fighting my weight my entire life, the results were life-changing.
Obexity transformed me—and not just my body. I was hungrier than ever, and over time I began to crave
human meat. No, this isn’t a sick joke. Yes, I know how unhinged this sounds. Of course I fought this
disgusting yearning, but as multiple clinical trials have shown, Obexity takes control of your body, your
actions, even your personality. It turned me into a killer, sometimes consciously and sometimes blacked
out. I killed and ate Aaron Wolfe, Justin Matthews, and Marco Jiménez, and probably also Georgina
Hodge and a woman named Myra.
I’m not the only user who’s been driven to kill. Tanya Swygert was in an Obexity trial when she
murdered her ex-husband (look her up if you don’t know the name). There are probably a bunch of others
I don’t know about.
Despite being aware of its horrifying side effects, Monstera Bio Sciences invited me to become a
spokesperson for Obexity and help them obtain FDA approval so they can make the treatment available
nationwide. Once I learned they’d been covering up the murders for months, even using genetically
modified coyotes to avoid scrutiny (yes, really), they blackmailed me into concealing the truth. I felt I
had no choice but to go along with it.
Until I realized that the man behind the whole operation, Dr. Cecil H. Smith, is someone I already knew.
If you’ve read my blog, you know that my former st epdad, Hank Stauder, used to abuse me verbally, and
once
physically, because of my weight. When I was eleven, he starved me for days, then, after I snuck food
from a neighbor’s house, tied me to a chair and force-fed me my own vomit. Hank Stauder is an evil
sadistic man who was fired from the Torrey Pines Medical Discovery Institute for unauthorized
experimental testing on human subjects. I’ve known about the scandal for years, as I was living with
Hank when it happened, but it wasn’t until I found myself in possession of his private documents early
this morning that I was finally able to put the whole story together.
According to files recovered from his office, the incident left a stain on Hank’s name. Struggling to find
work, he set out to distance himself from his previous identity. When I knew him, he went by his middle
name, Henry—Hank for short.
But after he was fired, he started going by his first name again, Cecil, and legally changed his last name
to Smith. I’m guessing this was a nod to Jos eph Smith, the founder of the Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints. Hank was raised LDS, and his turn toward the weight loss sciences may even have
been inspired by a verse in the Book of Mormon. (I’m speculating here.) If so, that wasn’t his only
inspiration—which brings me to the artwork pictured above, the portrait of an English baronet who
claimed he took medicine to help him lose weight but it turned him into a murderous cannibal. A mere
coincidence that a print of it hangs in Smith’s home at this very moment?
And that he happened to donate what must have been a significant sum to help the museum acquire the
original for their new cannibalism exhibit? I’d venture a guess that Smith, inspired by the story of Sir
Percival Blount, set out to create such a medicine himself.
Maybe he even succeeded in tracking down the original formulation and used it as the basis for creating
Ema C-8. If he did, then it’s likely he knew what horror he was unleashing on the world from the very
start.
Now you know the truth. Whether you choose to believe it is up to you. Nevertheless, I think it’s time for
me to take a st ep back from social media. Maybe forever. What my future holds, I can’t say, but if there’s
any justice in this world, Monstera will be held to account for their crimes, and Cecil “Hank”
Smith/Stauder will never hurt another fat person.
For fuck sake, haven’t we suffered enough? #weightloss #biopharma #obexity #maneater #ke epingitreal
#thetrueme January 3