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"The production team for Star Wars came up with the ultimate design for Jabba after they were instructed by Lucas to make the character look 'alien and grotesque ... just like Sydney Greenstreet.' Now that's just rude. Uncannily accurate, but rude."

Matt: Fatso, or, as Nazi Ernest calls him, “Mr. Big Fatso,” has sold Barb, Axel an Cora D out to the Notzis for a huge payday...That’s straight-up sizeism.
Chris: I can’t even figure out what is happening anymore.
Chris Sims and Matt Wilson on Barb Wire

"Mr. English Colonel, tellin' me to lose weight. "Oh! I'm a hard case," he says! Well, listen up, Sonny Jim. I ate a baby! Oh, aye! Baby: The other other white meat. Baby! It's what's for dinner!"

"I've always thought that a leader should have a strong chin. He has no chin, and his vice president has several. This to me is not a good combination."

I used to say that there were five different levels of fatness — the original five are 'big', 'healthy', 'husky', 'fluffy', and Daaayum!. People asked, what could be bigger than Daaayum!? The new level is called Aw, HELL naw!

Elaine: Perhaps there's more to Newman than meets the eye.
Jerry: No! There's less.
Elaine: It's possible.
Jerry: No, it isn't. I've looked into his eyes. He's pure evil.
Elaine: Maybe he's an enigma. A mystery wrapped in a riddle.
Jerry: Yeah. He's a mystery wrapped in a Twinkie.
Seinfeld, "The Big Salad"

The sergeant turned to Polly and grinned, which made his scars move oddly and caused a tremor to shake all his chins. The word "fat" could not honestly be applied to him, not when the word "gross" was lumbering forward to catch your attention. He was one of those people who didn't have a waist. He had an equator. He had gravity. If he fell over, in any direction, he would rock.
Monstrous Regimentnote 

"He's like a Nazi Louis CK! No — Jim Gaffigan, Jim Gaffigan!"

Morag wonders if Alex Sharkey has ever had a moral consideration in his life. He looks like a kind of anti-Buddha beaming there in the swivel chair in his white suit and green-and-orange plaid suit, his hands clasped over his considerable belly.
Fairyland, by Paul J McAuley

Sam had become very, very large. From too much special breakfast. And too much cake.
And Sam hadn't just changed physically. He'd changed as a person. He'd stopped writing thank-you notes (to be fair, he'd had to write a lot of them). He'd stopped even saying thank you when he got presents. He'd started demanding bigger and bigger cakes, and more and more exciting parties.
Birthday Boy, Chapter 15 ("Too Much")

Loud, rude, and overbearing, the King usually has no considerations for anything and anyone unless it involves satisfying his unfillable stomach.

Grail member: (on D'aronique) God, he's so disgusting... What is he thinking about?
Starr: What else? His two favorite subjects: mass murder and big pies.

It's not pretty when the rotund go bad.
Felix, The Twisted Tales of Felix the Cat, "The Maltese Milkshake"

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