In Progress

Thank you. Thank you so much. No really, thank you. Yes, it’s great to be here again! I can’t believe it’s been a whole year since I won the Living Monument to Flesh finals by the largest margin ever seen in the history of the 146 years this event has been held. Thank you! Thank you, really, please hold your applause until the end.

But that’s right folks, it’s the 147th annual Living Monument to Flesh Championship Cup, and I am so honored to have been invited to welcome you all and open the games. Dr. Z was kind enough to express his admiration of my remarkably thick forearms and lustrous leg hair, and he asked me to share some words of wisdom with you all.

I am reminded of that remarkable day just one year ago, when I was standing here, at this very podium, thanking my mother and of course, the Almighty for their blessings and their gifts, for giving me this wondrous physical machine into which I have pumped compounds, chemicals, and countless hours of strength and endurance training to become the glorious man I am today. Of course, this isn’t all I ingested, and I would like to share certain details of my daily routine that I hope will benefit all of you aspiring Iron Johns as you too dream of grasping that platinum baby we all love so much, the official trophy of the Living Monument to Flesh Cup!

First of all, with plenty must come denial. Even as we partake in the “all you can meat” buffet, remember that each of these animals, the noble steer, the fierce lion, the strapping bull, each of these creatures died to make us who we are today, and since we are men, we must not eat of the female. Sows, cows, deer, none of these are open to us on our path to fleshdom.

Secondly, it is only the men who are willing to sacrifice who may enter the garden of fleshly delights. During my twelve year training regime, I partook of absolutely no whores after the third trimester of training. And that includes dudes. No whores of any kind or suffer the kind of flesh loss you think can only happen on a vegetarian diet. Knock on wood!

Finally, pain is fear but victory is dear. My old coach Bubb told me this, a whale of a man whose loss six months ago is still as raw as a T-Bone and as tough as a 22-point training circuit. Just keep your eyes on that platinum baby, and you’ll push that pain so far down in your soul, after a while, you won’t even know it’s there.

Stay strong, brothers, stay strong. Let the games begin!

Posted on April 23rd, 2009 by DeepthiW
Filed under: Fiction Shorts, Uncategorized