Brody Visits The Gym

Brody had had a hard week; low on confidence and exhausted from the heavy ingestion of Lidl own brand lager and cheap takeaway curry the night before he couldn't bring himself to rise from bed. It was 1pm on Saturday; he awoke to a musky odour of curry farts and stale beer when suddenly a rush of energy engulfed him. He was desperate for more work, spurred on by his last panto job as Widow Twanky going down the pan due to his costume ripping open on stage & exposing his grotesque bear like torso to the audience. Reviewers had described the scene like an overweight elephant seal bursting stomach first through a plasterboard wall. The photos of his blubbery body had filled the tabloids celebrity sections quicker than he could say, "Large Big Mac Meal". He was determined to get back in shape.

After previous dark weeks spent between the dole office, McDonalds and the pub, his visions now turned more positive. He remembered the days he was training for Predators. He pulled out an old interview he did for Mens Fitness; to think he was once in such good shape, now his abdominal muscles were under more tyres than Rik Waller's belly button piercing. He knew what he had to do, with an oafish blunder he yelled to himself, "Gym"!

Needless to say, his gym kit was now comically small. With no money for new clothes, he fashioned some kit from his curtains and a frogman suit and set about devouring a high protein meal. He swiftly necked a 12 egg omelette topped with a block of red Leicester and 6 cans of Kx. With such speed for a man of his size he rumbled down the stairs of his shabby apartment, the woodwork groaning like an old oak tree in a hurricane.

Like a spherical lion high on a cocktail of Tesco own brand energy drink, excitement and Red Leicester, he leapt out of the door and into his knackered Fiat Cinquecento with such force it rocked violently to the side, almost tipping over. After 4 attempts the rattling engine roared into life and he raced along the road, sparks flying from the battered machine bottoming out over speed bumps. In no time he had completed the half mile drive to his old gym.

It had been years since he had last ventured here, but he was in luck. As he hauled his enormous wobbling bulk up the stairs he caught eyes with the petite, athletic PT girl on the reception desk - he knew her from when he was training for Predators, she had helped him train. She smiled affectionately as she made eye contact with Brody, but the friendly smile he saw soon turned to a look of disbelief, confusion and then terror. She knew Brody's membership had long expired, but seeing the thunderous look on his face, his eyes lit up with cheese and caffeine, she had no choice. Pregnant with dread she stuttered timidly, "Gg-g-good afternoon M-mmm-mr Brody, pp-please go through".

He marched with a waddling gait onto the gym floor, like a Roman gladiator in a sumo suit and there he saw the fuel of his previous glory days: the squat rack! It was a busy day in the gym, but as if by fate the squat rack was free. Eagerly he lumbered over and loaded up the bar. Brody wasn't a man of halves, today he was going big, despite the pains from his bulging colon full of last night’s curry. He heaved the bar off the rack and onto his shoulders; the steel bar sinking into his ample fatty covering as he let out a booming roar that resonated around the building. He went down, as he thrusted up all hell broke loose in his pants; a deafening screech of escaping gas and a tearing noise followed by a heavy boom, like a low flying jet fighter breaking the sound barrier, filled the room - his sphincter had blown. He felt a warm dribble running down his frogman suit - this hadn't been a fart, this was a shart. The nauseating smell filled the gym floor like a cloud of mustard gas; a burly man immediately threw up in the nearest bin, swathes of fellow gym goers ran to the toilets and out the doors wretching.

In a moment of confusion Brody threw up his arms yelling, "Oh yes! That was me!" but after seeing the carnage ensuing from the stampede of shell shocked gym goers, he went red with embarrassment and made a dash for the fire escape. It would be a while until he would return.