An unpleasant, indecisive little book about a Chicago household of three obscenely obese fatties--mother Sylvie, daughter Deborah, and son Gregory. Living on an annuity from the man of the house, who deserted them for obvious reasons, this threesome happily eats and eats and eats, supplied by their live-in, pot-smoking cook Clare--and by nonstop take-out orders from pizzerias and Chinese restaurants. As for the non-eating part of their lives, virtually housebound Gregory wastes money on useless correspondence courses while Deborah has become the much-abused, resident provider of oral sex to teen gangs in the movie-house balcony. If Rotondi means any of this to be darkly funny, he's on the wrong track. But much fouler, obviously unfunny stuff lies ahead: the threesome gets hooked on cocaine (originally bought as a gift for cook Clare), the cocaine-pusher robs them nightly, they run out of money, the pizzeria won't extend credit, Clare leaves (fed up with the increasing, explicitly detailed hygiene problems)--and the obvious end to it all is cannibalism. Ha-ha. Guaranteed to turn your stomach and/or inspire you to a new diet--but that's about it.