At first, it was a joke. Late-night hosts made cracks about "The Great Expansion." Diet pill stocks plummeted while sweatpants manufacturers saw their value triple. People laughed as they notched new holes in their belts every week. In thirty days, everyone on the planet had gained roughly five and a half pounds. It was manageable. Month 3: The Infrastructure Crisis
The world wasn't built for this. Airplane seats became tight. Subway turnstiles felt narrower. Public health officials realized that by next year, the average adult would weigh an extra 70 pounds. Bridges were inspected for weight tolerances; elevators were derated for fewer passengers. 1 Fat Every Second
By noon, the world realized it wasn’t a countdown. It was a tally. At first, it was a joke
On the tenth anniversary, the ticker stopped. For one breath, the world held its collective lungs. Then, the numbers began to turn red and count backward. In thirty days, everyone on the planet had
Five years in, the human form was unrecognizable. The average human carried 360 pounds of "Ticker-Mass" in addition to their original weight.
