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A morbidly obese couple sinks into a couch on the verge of surrender, devouring chocolate hearts like toddlers let loose in a candy factory. Their fingers and faces are coated in melted cocoa, stuffing truffles in with the urgency of people who know diabetes is closing in fast. Behind them, a dusty treadmill—now a storage rack for discount Valentine’s candy—stands as a tombstone for broken resolutions. A "Weight Loss Plan" box sits nearby, untouched, except for the greasy fingerprints from a failed attempt to open it like a snack.