Brandon Branson was living proof that eating healthily wasn’t necessarily the healthy thing to do. In fact he wasn’t living proof at all. He was dead as a doornail.
Brandon had eaten healthy food since his teenage years. He’d meticulously read the list of ingredients on the back of every food package. He’d carefully counted the calorie intake daily. And then WHAM BANG! He dropped dead instantaneously at the kitchen bench while dicing a raw carrot.
This is proof, declared his niece Sonja who owned a confectionary operative, that healthy eating is a marketing ploy by the companies that monopolize the food industry. You can see why us nieces and nephews referred to him as Uncle Vegetarian Dumpling.
It goes to show, said Raewyn the President of the Big-boned Ladies Collective, that being skinny has few advantages. Brandon may have eaten healthy food but without a doubt he was never happy.
His death pulls the mat out from under the burnt-out trendy lefties who think we should all live miserable lives, said Norm Gladworthy the founder of the Fat Earth Society. I’m rather glad he died. It shows the falsehood perpetuated by head-in-the-sand trendy trendies and all those who belong to the Green Party. He exercised every day as well I’m told, and look at him now. There’s not a movement in his cold corpse. A fat lot of use it was living all that apparent fine fettle fiasco.
Dorothy McKenzie was a lone voice supporting Brandon Branson’s healthy lifestyle. He may be dead, she said, but surely he led a happy and productive life throughout his ninety-seven years.