Follow Through

I had met up with my good mucker, T-Dawg for a lunchtime gym session.

What's next?

He grunted as we finished on the Lateral Something or other machine.

I consulted my phone.

The Smith machine, dude.

We headed over to it. The gym was quite quiet. The January resolution keepers obviously slinking back to their burrows till next year.

The Smith machine was vacant, only a lone, half-full plastic bottle keeping it company on the floor beside it.

I looked at the bottle then around for the owner. No-one was nearby.

You reckon no-one is using it?

Said T-Dawg, eyeing up the plastic bottle.

I looked around too.

Fuck it, dude. Jump on.

I replied.

We started going hell for leather on the Smith machine which I find a bastard at the best of times.

T-Dawg was halfway through his second set when I noticed two large muscly guys ambling over.

The smaller of the two looked to be comprised solely of swollen leathery footballs. He stopped and pointed at the half-empty bottle on the floor and spoke.

We were on this machine.

As T-Dawg was wheezing through his lifts like a deflating beef handbag I answered man-made-of-balls.

Oh right, sorry, didn't realise. We are nearly done

Man-made-of-balls looked confused like a shoehorn in a land of flip-flops.

But I left my bottle there?

He said in an irritated tone.

I furrowed my brow. I am a laid back guy but I have never liked men made of balls talking balls at me.

Mate, we are nearly done. The machine was empty.

I said tersely.

Just as I said this the bigger of the two bent over with a jerk at the waist then slowly unfolded back upright, his right arm curling slowly and tightly against his chest, his gargantuan bicep resembling Jupiter as it pulsed angrily before me.

He stroked his bicep and leered at us as if he were a bond villain and his bicep, a white long-haired cat.

Fuck sake, we were on it. Right?

Spat man-made-of-balls.

He looked to be more than a little cross. In fact he looked a bit fighty.

T-Dawg finished and rolled off the bench with a groan.

I assessed the two growling giants before me.

They were fucking massive. In my head I could hear the Game of Thrones theme starting up. My inner Glaswegian roared at me to start kicking things over and fight them whilst screaming about the English.

They were big though and I was a responsible man these days. I mean, I had even managed to successfully spawn two beautiful children via the medium of my magic monk.

For once, discretion got the better of me.

I opened my mouth to speak.

You want this machine? You want it right now? Is that it?

I looked around in surprise.

Oh shit, it wasT-Dawg.

He was snarling, his face a deep purple and contorting into a variety of shapes, none of which looked as if they fit together very well.

The two dudes looked at him contemptuously, mad as a fucking brush he might have looked but he was still half the size of the littlest one.

I opened my mouth to tell him it wasn't worth it but before I could, he stamped his foot.

You want it? Eh? You want it?

He squatted down, almost sitting on the bench, glowering up madly at the two giants. His face contorted until he looked as if he was going to explode.

Tthhfftttgrrrrtttttttttt...

A great ripping, bubbling noise came from his arse as a monstrous fart broke free from his body like a stinking genie.

T-Dawg then sat and rubbed his brown oboe against the bench like a maddened Labrador.

Eh! Like it? You want it?

T-Dawg glared at the two giants who were now recoiling in horror as he contorted again, strain making his eyes look fit to pop clean out of his head.

Fuck this, that's fucked up, dirty bastards.

Grimaced man-made-of-balls.

The two of them huffed off.

I turned to T-Dawg who was straightening up from his haka squat.

Fucking hell mate, you are like a crazed fart Titan there! High five, mother fucker!

T-Dawg grinned and raised a hand in a high five before pausing, his face troubled.

Might have followed through a bit mate, back in a minute

He waddled off in that magical way of the wet fart warrior.

I shook my head in admiration.

What a guy...