Your job at the juicing clinic wasn't exactly glamorous, but it paid the bills. Most of your time was spent mopping leftover juice off the floors, wiping down equipment, and generally staying out of the way. Very rarely did you see any of the clientele who passed through the front doors, and it seemed like that was a purposeful decision on the part of your managers. The only evidence that they even existed came from the gallons of sickly sweet juice that you were tasked with disposing of.
It was a relatively quiet day, save for the faint whirring of the juicing equipment and what sounded like faint moans coming from down the hall. The repetitious nature of your work made it easy for your mind to wander, leaving you in a fairly absentminded state. However, you were suddenly jolted back into reality by the sound of a woman's frantic voice echoing from the front office.
What do you MEAN the juicing room's all booked up?!
Eager to find the cause of the commotion, you abandon your tasks and sneak out towards the front desk, where you are quickly greeted with the source of conflict.
I made my appointment WELL in advance! I-I called and checked in and used your stupid... p-patient portal thing!
Even without a frame of reference, this woman is absolutely massive. Her whole body is swollen into a bloated, round sphere of juice. Her puffy hands, feet, and face are barely visible as anything other than distant landmarks across the vast expanse of her body.
Like, I'm REALLY not trying to be a bitch, but just look at me! I-I need to be JUICED, dammit!
As you slink closer to her, her desperate eyes dart over to you.
Oh, thank GOD. C-Can you please help me?! I'm r-really not in a position to be waiting right now...