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K-THUNK!
Opening with a load mechanical thud, the doors to the
gymnasium swung open. Grey, cold, steel. Industrial. Like some twisted post
apocolyptical remains of metal and plastics and a medely of strip ligthing.
Long, white and flickering. Flickering and illuminating the wholey unnatural
feel of the place. A place that was, in many ways, far removed from nature. What
a strange place. What an unusual social gathering. Along the near empty corridor
came grunts and banging. Steel against steel clangs. Echoing. Bouncing off the
walls. Absorbed only by the grey concrete and cement on the floor. And the
smell. the smell was aweful. A mixture of sweat and metal chain lubricant.
Irritanting lubricant that made your eyes sting and your throat ruff. Or maybe
it was the unnatural circulation of the tainted air through the disease
spreading air conditioning that made your throat dry. Who knew. James didn't
even care. He was 'home'.
"Hey J!" came a booming, thick and deep voice
from somewhere down the corridor. It was rough and gravel like. A voice of a
dead man walking. Or a man with throat cancer perhaps. James recognised the
voice but ignored it. The one's in his head were more importantly reminding him
there were things to do.
Looking around, relaxed at first James, spotted Billy
on the reception desk. It was the usual setting. Billy had his feet up and was
reading a magazine. It was a copy of Flex. Well, he'd be reading it if he wasn't
just looking at the pictures. He was mentally slagging off the all American
heroes. He'd personally beaten all of those lifts. And besides he used 'real'
plates and not wooden ones for photo shoots. This pleased him greatly. Billy was
sweating. Billy was always sweating. Nobody knew what 'he' was taking but it
sure made him sweat like a tap. Next to Billy the cash register was left open.
It was virtually empty. Always was. A few coppers, the odd pound coin. Just a
bit of change. Of course the gym didnt make any money quite that legitametly.
BIlly was peering down at his magazine and sipping a
pink protein shake out of one of th emost ridiculously large sized beakers you
could imagine. James was agitated by this. He could feel his heart beat the odd
beat faster. His pupils that were dilated suddenly closed up. Piercing his stare
at Billy's forehead. There had been that time a few months ago Billy had slapped
James on the shoulder without realising he had injected two mills of Sus there
and it had hurt like hell. What an idiot. Starting a fight like that. James was
not one to forget. He can remember the pain Billy had inflicted on his shoulder.
Forgive and forget. Don't think so. Ok, so it was a an accident. Maybe. Maybe
not. Who knew. Anyway, why was that fool touching him anyway? Blood pumped a
little faster. And that beaker. That beaker was bigger than his!
James walked toward the desk and snapped his focus away
from Billy as his mind made images of twisting his victims head off and
simultaneously beating his body with a 10kg dumbbell. Instead of doing that, he
grabbed for a paper cup and poured his own protein drink from the dispenser. It
was a powdery mix, but protein was protein and the more the better.
"Billy," he grunted.
"James." Billy grunted back, not removing his
eyes from Flex. "Go on, you can pay for that next month, like all the
rest."
Another smart arsed comment like that from that little
weasle and James was ready to leap over that desk and show him what bench
pressing four and half plates aside does for your strength. Eyes seeing red.
Heart beating faster. What right did he have to speak to anyone like
that?! Paranoia they say. Paranoia they said all the time. Shouldn't take any
more amphetamines because it makes you funny. Then Billy agreed with them. Billy
needed to be shown a lesson or two. James was ready to show Billy his lesson
when a sudden cold chill ran down his spine. Another cold sweat. Like someone
pulling the plug out from his feet and the blood draining away out of his toes.
Muscles going a little like jelly. Head pounding. Blood rushing through the ear
canals loud and deep. Eyes stinging. A little dizzy. Unbalanced. A little
nauseous. Temples swelling. Temples ready to burst. Corridor spinning.
"Watch it!" A different voice.
James snapped too and realised he was stood in the gym
itself, wandering into someone standing free squating. Nearly cracked his head
on the end of the bar. That would have been nasty. Another one of them blank
spots. That was happening a lot recently. James didn't know why? Stupid head.
Stupid body. Playing tricks on him. Like it was against him. Trying to stop him
from getting what he wanted. Had to stop benching unless in the Smith Machine
incase the damn thing dropped on his head during a blackout. Sometimes, he
thought, it was like his head was trying to kill of his body. jealous probably.
People always paid more attention to his body than his head. Ugly head. Nearly
smashed it into an olympic bar. That probably would have improved it. Maybe a
few stitches and a bit of plastic surgery could put right that stupid face. Got
picked on at school all the time. No one was interested in James. Ugly kid.
Looked like a neanderthal he thought. Amy was the only one that liked him. Well,
liked his body anyway. But she preferred the cuddly off season look. A cuddly
teddy bear she said! A teddy bear!!! What an insult. James wasn't standing for
that. He didn't want to be a teddy bear. He wanted to be a superhero, or an
olympian, a greek god. Not a damn teddy bear. Every diet she would complain. The
better and better his condition, the more veins, the more ripped, the less human
and more alien the look, the more she complained. What was wrong with her? What
was her problem? Stupid girl. Well he was rid of her now anyway. She'd probably
end up with a lard arse shrimp like Billy.
Wandering away from the squat rack, James headed to the
assessment room. That was the best place in there. That was like Santa's Grotto
for adults. Now his pupils dialated. Frown disappearing. He could see his
contact in there with his sports bag of goodies. Or should we say, his santa's
sack. Cold sweat over James trooped over there as fast his collosal and rapidly
expanding physique would allow. Pausing momentarilly by the flat bench press. A
small guy was on it only pressing two and a half plates a side. He was quite
lean but couldn't have weighed more than 13 and a half stone. Ah, that took him
back in time. Back when three plates looked like a challenge instead of a warmup.
Standing there for a second or two, James watched with enthusiasm and let his
mind wander back to memories of free benching out of the smith machine. Nice
memories. Some of the best of his life. Why was that little weasel sat on his
bench? What a lack of respect. That bench had had four and a half plates
benched off it! That was a little more than his useless two plates. If James
wasn't in quite as much as a rush, he would have had to have words with that
numbskull. He probably didn't even know how to construct a good cycle. That's
why he was most likely strugling to pass the 14 stone barrier. Lucky for him
that he was in a rush. A rush for his deal.
James left the young trainee with an intense glare of
detest and took a note of what he looked liked so he could have strong
discaplinary words with him the next time, when he wasnt as rushed. Shaking his
head he headed to the assessment room. That was why he was there, after all. Not
for training. A little wave of panic suddenly overwhelmed James. Think of the
time, he thought. Had he really gone so long without eating?! At least a whole
hour. At least! That protein shake really didn't count. Wasnt good enough
nutrition. It probably didn't even have enough carbs in to release a worth while
insulin response. What was going to drive the amino acids into his muscle
without enough carbohydrates?! This was catastrophic. Everybody knew that if you
had to chose between missing a workout and missing a meal you would miss the
workout! Thats how important nutrition was! Missing a meal through forgetfulnes
was the biggest mistake ever. Stupid head! Playing tricks on him again.
Lucky for James, he had a meal replacement bar in his
pocket. Well, he actually had a few. Just in case. Just for situations like
this. He ripped the packet open and dropped the wrapper on the floor. After all
some sad case got paid to sweep up. Wouldnt want to deprive someone of their
job. Momentarily James thought of his mortgage. And of his own job. He'd been
too depressed to go into work recently. Anyway he was too busy and too focussed
on achieving his physique goals this month. That was the most critical and most
urgent task. Focus on the goal. Obsession was what made dreams come true. With a
little chemical assistance.
The bar was hard to chew. Like Amy's cooking was. Made
the jaw ache somewhat. Must be building those facial muscles though. Especially
in the jaw and neck. Neck muscles were really important. People neglected them.
Idiots mostly. Feeble competition. James never neglected any part of his
physique. You couldnt have weak points. James could do neck lifts with a harness
on of over 120kg. Strong neck. Thick head.
Thud! The door to the assessment room opened and banged
against the wall.
"Wow! Chill out James," croaked with his
steroid damaged throat box, "you really are a maniac sometimes. How you
doin?"
"Good."
"You and Timbo doing the strength competition over
at Green's next week?"
James piereced his lips and stared menacingly at .
"No."
"Oh yeah, right," croakingly, "cause too
much muscle damage right?! Not proper bodybuilding or something?" Laughing
snortingly.
"You taking the piss out of me?" James
snarled back. It was no joke. Nobody should mess around throwing in pointless
strength competitions. It messed up the regular specific training systems. Throw
your body into turmoil. Catabolic nightmare. Why did people joke about things
like this? What was wrong with the world?
"No Jimbo! No, not at all! Listen I got yer stuff
right here. You wanna pay me by credit card or cheque this time?"
"Credit Card?" James' ears picked up. Did now
take credit? That would be more than handy. More than beneficial. He could stock
up on another 20 week cycle on credit and figure out a way to pay for his card
some other time. Maybe sell something else.
"No Jimbo!" croaked back, sneering, and
laughing, "Im being sarcastic! You take the world too seriously. Cash mate,
cash! And after last time I ain't you owe me. I want to buy the kids Christmas
presents this year, ok. Cash. Shall we call it seven hundred and fifty dead
straight."
"You said seven."
"Hey, you're twisting my arm behind my back,
bending me over and doing unpleasant things to me here Jimbo. I had to go all
out for you to pick this up at short notice. I'll throw in some coke and some
speed. How's that? Keep you sweet. You're a good customer. I remember you when
you started here - eleven stone, keen as anything. You even went against my
advice. Told you to train naturally for at least a year but you were adamant
that you wanted to pay me so I could settle the wife's credit cards. So hows
that?"
"You said seven." James wanted to smash his
face in. What a cocky, arrogant swine. Him and Billy were probably best friends.
They were probably both seeing Amy now. At the same time.James made a fist. Eyes
piercing his dealers skull. Bloody fist. Blood up the walls. That would show him
not to rip him off. Show him to be nice to people and stick to his word.
"OK, Jimbo, I can see you're eager for a Gold
Customer discount. How about seven, but I can't throw in the good stuff, eh?
How's that."
"OK, seven fifty." James liked the good
stuff. That was his treat. A little reward for all that hard work and
dedication. That's what he lived for. Well, he didn't smoke and he didn't drink.
Well not much. Didn't enjoy food or buy takeaways. Didn't go out. Went to bed
early, got enough sleep to grow optimally. Avoided anywhere that may cause
excitment. Excitment made adrenaline. Adrenaline was catabolic. But the good
stuff that was different. That was controlled reward.
"You have a deal. Here's your shit."
handed James a carrier bag full of the classified and
illegal 'good stuff' as it was now known. Everything James had ordered right
there. Where it should be. In his hand. All he had to do now was get it into his
body. As fast as he could and reap the rewards. James handed over his payment
faithfully. Like a servant to his master. Head bowed. Mouth watering. Heart
beating fast. The deal. Very simple. Very quick. Just the way it should be,
thought James.
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