The Bodybuilder

by Crayonpaste


Chocolate Rain

The last time you went to the Forge, it was 8 at night on a weekday. Naturally, you were pretty much the only person working out then, and you were happy that way; nobody would be judging you, and nobody would see you. You'd quickly go in, do your thing, and get out. Well...at least until the whole bench press incident happened...

This time though, the second you walk in and swipe your card, you can hear the entire gym buzzing with activity; the steady march of people running on their treadmills almost synchronize with the near constant clanging of weights, making the entire place sound like a factory. Occasionally, you hear someone shouting something unintelligible, which is then immediately followed by the deafening ring of metal dropping to the ground.

"So, how do you feel about hitting legs today, Anon?" Your father asks. "They've got these really nice smith machines for squatting here Anon; perfect for beginners."

"Well...as long as it's not as packed..." You say.

"Oh, it's always like this on a Friday evening." Your dad says casually. "Actually...I take that back. Today's pretty empty if you ask me."

"Empty?!" You point at the treadmills in front of you. "There's at least twenty five people on this floor alone!"

"Oh come on, working out when it's crowded is the best!" Your dad smiles, smacking your back. "It stops you from slacking off, since everyone else is working hard!"

You roll your eyes in disbelief. How in the world are you this guy's son?

You stick close to your dad as he navigates through the maze of machines, and sweaty dudes. Every now and then, a particularly muscular looking man calls your dad, and they exchange a few words before fist bumping each other, and going their separate ways. You're honestly not surprised at all that your dad's a celebrity here; he's basically here every day. Every person, from college students barely older than you to full blown grandfathers all recognize him.

"Alright, Anon." Your dad says enthusiastically, breaking your train of thought. "Take a good look at this lady right here!"

You don't know why, but you were half expecting to actually see some girl standing in front of you; it took you a couple seconds to realize he was actually referring to the squatting machine thing that was right behind him. You were disappointed.

"All stainless steel, 16 adjustable positions, and a smooth as silk thrust ball-bearing system that makes it feel as if you're using free weights, but with all the safety of a smith machine." Your dad beams as he runs his hand down the machine. "It's a Grade-A smith machine that's the perfect match for beginners just learning the ropes like you!"

Now...you're no engineer, but you know a nice machine when you see one. And holy cow, this is a nice machine.

"......How much does it cost to be a member here again?" You look at your dad with disbelief.

"Nothing your dad's credit card can't handle." He chuckles. "Now come on son, let me show you the basics."

******

After about an hour of squatting with your dad, your entire shirt is soaked with sweat. As you finally rack the barbell, finishing your final set, your legs nearly give out on you, but you manage to grab something right before you fall. You feel like Bambi just learning to walk as you awkwardly waddle away from the smith machine, and to a nearby chair. Every few seconds, your legs wobble uncontrollably as if they were made of nothing but jelly, nearly causing you to fall multiple times. Fighting against your body, you finally make it to the chair, and take a deep breath of relief.

'This must be what it feels like to be crippled.' You think to yourself, as you wipe off the sweat from your forehead.

Your father's long gone; as soon as he felt confident that you got your form down, he went off to do his own thing. But before he left though, he did give you a bag of this protein powder stuff that you always see him using. He said it helps you build muscles, promote fat loss, increase metabolism, and a whole bunch of other magical stuff.

You take a look at your phone, and find that it's not even 8 yet; your dad said he'd be done by 9. With nothing else to do, you open the bag and find that this stuff looks almost exactly like flour; a brown, sickly sweet flour that smells vaguely of chocolate soy milk. You turn to the bag's other side, and read the instructions.

"Pour contents into bottle with either water or milk, and shake for twenty seconds..." You read out loud. "Consult with a doctor before consumption if you are pregnant..."

'Welp, second part's irrelevant to me.' You think as you pour the protein powder's contents into your water bottle. Now to shake it...

You close the lid, and begin shaking, but as soon as you begin doing so, something doesn't feel right. You know where you went wrong, but it's too late; before you can say anything to warn anyone, a geyser of brown goop shoots out of your untightened bottle cap, and you watch in horror as it rains all over on extremely muscular guy in the middle of his workout.

The guy swears loudly as the protein shake showers his face, causing him to drop one of the dumbells. Just his luck, one of them also happens to land right on the poor guy's toe, causing him to swear even louder. The entire floor goes silent; everyone stops what they're doing, and turns their face towards you.

You try to kick off of your seat to go and help the poor guy, but your still exhausted legs immediately give out, and you begin falling face first into the gym floor. You throw your arms up to try and break the fall, but before they touch the ground, you suddenly feel a powerful force yanking the back of your shirt, lifting you up from the ground.

Slowly, you turn your head and see the guy who you just gave a protein shake shower to; his white skin now a boiling, raging red as he wipes the brown liquid from his face, and stares at you, holding your empty bottle with his other hand. You're so close to this man, that a small gust of wind tickles your face every time he exhales. It's quite gross honestly, but you're in no position to ask him to stop.

"What the hell's your problem, punk?!" He demands, as he shoves your empty water bottle into your chest.

You want to apologize. You want to explain that it was just an accident. You want to say something, anything to save yourself from getting turned inside out, but nothing comes out. You're far too preoccupied (or should you say petrified) by the hellish death stare this guy is giving you as he brings you closer to his face.

"WELL?!" He roars. "You interrupted my workout on BICEPS DAY! NOBODY DISTURBS BULK BICEPS ON A BICEPS DAY!"

"Hey, chill man, chill." You say frantically; Hulk Hogan's shouting has finally brought your survival instincts back online. If you felt like you were sweating like a pig back when you were squatting, it's nothing compared to how much you are right now; it feels absolutely terrifying knowing the next few words that come out of your mouth will mean the difference between life and death for you.

"I'm sorry, bro, I forgot to tighten my lid before I shook my bottle." You say. As you dangle from the air on this behemoth's arm. "It was an honest mistake, I didn't mean any disrespect, I swear!"

They say Honesty's the best policy when it comes to royal screw ups like these, right? Well whoever invented that saying clearly never met someone like this guy; all your words managed to do was to enrage him even further. He starts growling at you like a tiger, and with a thundering roar, chucks you at least four feet across the room.

Fortunately, you land right on a yoga mat, and you look up, seeing him slowly walking towards you with eyes full of feral rage as he picks up a barbell from the bench press, and prepares to swing it at you with it like a maul.

Now staring at the face of death, your legs begin functioning again. You get up from your feet and try to get as far away from this psycho as possible. You'd cry out for someone to help, but everybody else in the gym looks just as terrified as you right now. He takes his first swing with the barbel, and you can feel it brushing against the hair on the back of your head as it misses you by only fractions of an inch.

Every step Bulk Biceps takes, you can hear it behind you like rolling thunder; it's just like those horror games like Amnesia where you know looking back is an awful idea, but you can't help but do it anyways. You look back for a moment, and see your future murderer inches from your face. You cry out in terror, and pick up the pace, only to run right into a wall. You're momentarily dazed by the situation, but have enough time to look up one last time as Bulk Biceps raises the metal barbell over his head like an executioner preparing to decapitate a prisoner.

'This is it...' You think to yourself. 'This psycho's going to kill me...'

You shut your eyes tight, and think of Applejack one last time; with her image clear in your mind, you curl up into a ball, and prepare to take the hit.

...Are you dead? If so, that was one quick death. If you really are dead however, then you don't know why you're still breathing, or sweating, or shaking in fear...shouldn't all that stuff not exist in heaven or something? Who knows; you never really paid that much attention during Sunday school anyways.

You dare to open your eyes, and spot another guy standing in front of you, wrestling with your would-be-killer over the barbell, and from the looks of it, he's actually winning.

"He's not worth it, Bulk." You hear the voice and instantly recognize it belonging to Shining Armor. "He's new; cut the poor kid some slack."

"I was about to get a personal best, until this punk mucked it up!" Bulk Biceps barks at you. "He made me stub my toe on a 70 pound dumbell, and covered me in his protein shake! Plus, I just washed this shirt too!"

"Just drop it." Shining Armor says, firmly, continuing to hold the barbell in place. "It was an honest mistake what he did; just let him go."

"I don't care, that maggot needs to know his place!" Bulk Biceps shouts. He steps forward to try and rip the metal bar out of Shining Armor's hands, but Shining Armor quickly spins around, grabs Bulk's wrist, and twists it behind his back. Before you can even blink, Bulk Biceps is face-first on the ground, tapping the floor desperately with his free hand.

"Alright! Alright! I got it!" Bulk shouts in pain as Shining Armor continues holding his wrist. "I'll leave him alone, just stop!"

"You sure?" Shining Armor asks.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" he squeals. "Just let me go!"

As soon as Shining Armor releases Bulk Biceps, he immediately scurries off like a terrified rat, grabbing his bag and immediately heading for the nearest elevator with his baseball cap tipped downwards to hide his face. You just sit there, completely dumbfounded after seeing Shining Armor so easily overpower someone almost twice his size.

"......Thanks...a lot." You say awkwardly to Shining Armor; the most popular guy in Canterlot High, as well as the one who stole the love of your life, and also happened to save you. You honestly don't know what to feel towards this guy now.

"Not a problem." Shining Armor smiles, helping you back up. "You ought to learn to pick your fights better though."

"I didn't mean to do it!" You argue. "I was tired, and I just wasn't thinking straight! I-"

"Chill, I'm just messing with you bro." Shining Armor laughs. "I know; Bulk's an asshole to everyone to be honest, but once you start standing up for yourself, he'll leave you alone. That's just the way he is."

"Not sure how I can stand up to two hundred pounds of muscle..." You mutter.

"Well, it's not that hard when all those muscles are in nothing but his biceps." Shining Armor chuckles. "I don't think I've ever seen him do a squat here; in fact, I bet you squat more than he ever could!"

"Oh...all I did was just a 45 and a 10 on each side..." You comment. "Probably nothing compared to what you can do-"

"That much?!" Shining Armor cuts you off, a surprised look in his eyes. "Hell, that's actually really impressive for your first time!"

Never in your entire life have you felt such complicated emotions; on one side, you want to dislike him with all your heart for taking her, but on the other side, you feel a deep sense of pride after being complimented by the most popular guy in all of Canterlot High, as well as the one who just saved your life.

"Anyways, I gotta go now." Shining Armor says. "Need to go to bed early from swim practice tomorrow. Catch you later, Anon!"

You watch as Shining Armor disappears from your sight, leaving you standing there, swimming in your own pool of emotions. You have to say, whatever preconceptions of Shining Armor being some pigheaded jock you had before were gone after that tussle with Bulk Biceps. You don't know anyone, save for maybe your dad, who would've had the balls to intervene right there. The guy saved your life for crying out loud.

Yet at the same time, as petty as it sounds, you feel angry, almost humiliated over what just happened. Of all the people to save your ass back there, it just had to also be the one to steal your girl, didn't it?

You shake your head. No. You're overthinking this. Applejack rejected you, and Shining Armor won fair and square; there's no point being a bad sport over it all. You decide maybe going downstairs to run on a treadmill for a while will brush aside your negative feelings. You start walking down the stairs, and spot Shining Armor leaving The Forge, talking with a girl. You didn't get a clear view of who she was, but your imagination quickly fills the gaps.

Hopefully, you'll stop thinking about it once you start jogging.