Routine Maintenance II

Routine Maintenance II

By

Gym Dude

I HATE my kitchen!

I was never really fond of the kitchen, but since our maintenance man physically trashed me, TWICE, I can't go near the damn room without remembering every painful moment.



To top it off, my oven still doesn't work half the time and I know that eventually I am going to have to call this guy back. With that thought in mind I have been motivated to workout even harder than ever. I can't believe how long it has taken for my muscles to recover from the beating he gave me. It was a week before I could even walk normally and I began to think the pain in my back would never let up.

I've spent the past few weeks mostly confined to my apartment, lifting and stretching. It troubles me that the main reason I stay away from the gym in my complex is the fear of running into that maintenance guy again. From my front window I watch him around the pool, strutting for the girls like some bold rooster.

I am considered a STUD by most people especially compared to that twerp, yet I cower in my little corner afraid to face him again. That thought alone tears me up inside and forces me to hit the weights even harder, it's the only way I can overcome these thoughts that terrorize me even in my dreams.

I can't keep hiding forever. I've worked myself back into pretty good shape and it is time for me to take back my rightful place in the world. My Speedos might be too tacky for today so I slip on my black full-cut swimming suit, on my body it gives the impression of a Pro Wrestler, which is exactly what I want. One more thing to do before leaving the house, I grab my trusty Coppertone and apply a thin coat across my tree-trunk legs, my washboard abs and sculptured chest, then across my broad powerful shoulders and down my heavily muscled arms. I pause for a moment before my full-length mirror and admire the results of all my hard work. It's impossible to keep from flexing a few poses as I have to really appreciate the image of the tower of muscle before me. Can't hide it, I look DAMN good! It is time for my reappearance at the pool!

As luck would have it, I make it no more than 50 feet before I pass the open door of one of my "friendly" neighbors. In this case, it's Mr. G.Q., the ass-hole who kicked me while I was down and got his licks in after our maintenance man completely destroyed me in front of everyone by the pool.

I've got to admit that the guy has a decent looking build, one of those guys blessed with the right genetics so they don't have to work too hard to look great. The stud is wearing his Speedo and looks like he is getting ready to show off by the pool as I watch him walk across the room with his back to the door. I

fill the doorway and wait. I clear my throat to announce my presence and when he turns the look on his face is priceless. I think the guy is going to shit bricks right here. Even with his great tan the dude's face turns pale. I don't even have a chance to say a word before he turns coward and starts begging my forgiveness.

"You really get off on kicking guys in the gut while they're down, Huh?" I ask calmly.

"Please, man." He begs, "I am SOOOO sorry. I don't know what got into me. It was a mistake man. I just saw your big muscular physique and you were so defenseless and vulnerable. I knew you wouldn't be able to fight back and I took a cheap shot. I was wrong and I'm sorry. Please forgive me!!! Please!!!"

 The dude is pitiful. I smile and reach out my right hand. Super stud must think I want to shake hands and call a truce, that conclusion is sadly incorrect.

The instant my powerful fingers close around his wimpy paw I pull forward, his big body flying uncontrollably toward my solid muscles. I can tell he is hurt by the impact even though I hardly feel a thing. The poor sap doesn't even know what is happening as I wind one leg around his and slip one powerful arm over his and behind his back, I begin to stand upright while his big body is forced to conform around the tower of muscle holding him captive. At first, he lets out a gasp but that is quickly followed by groans and pained screams as his lean frame begins to bend in ways he never imagined.

"AAAAARRRRGGHGHH! Please! Please, Man. You're breaking me in half! I give! I give, Man! Please let me go! PLEASE! I can't take anymore!  AAAAAARRRRRR!"

"Quiet down, Wimp. Cowboy up and get some balls!  Damn, Dude! You look like you've got a half-way decent body. I expect at least a little fight out of you. I am so disappointed in you! Shit! This isn't even FUN!" I reach down and slam a half-hearted punch to his open gut. It's tough to do any real damage at that angle but I'm not fighting much of a man. I open my fist slightly to form a half-punch half-karate chop and slam a few deep in the abs of my unwilling victim. You would think I was killing the guy as he moans, begs and pleads with me!

"You weak turd! That's not even a real punch!!!" I exclaim as I close my fist and power a hard right hand to his stretched and exposed obliques.

A loud "UUUUGHHHHH!" explodes from his lips and the dude would have dropped like a rock had he not been totally immobilized in my fearsome grip.

"There you go, Buddy! Now THAT'S a punch! See the

difference?" I ask as I power in two more before releasing my hold allowing his useless body to freefall to the floor at my feet. "Just remember this before you take advantage of a man when he's down!"

"Now that sounds like good advice!" a deep voice bellows from behind me. I look up to see Mr. G.Q.'s two big buddies at the door. Luckily for me, the door jamb forces the formidable looking dudes to come at me single file.

My victim's friends are both big guys almost my size but not in nearly as good of condition. The first man appears both strong and tough with the powerful body of a linebacker. He closes the limited space between us with a lunge, both arms stretched out as though prepared for an unbreakable tackle. I'll give him one thing; this guy is intimidating to say the least. I fully understand why most men would do anything to avoid him. I am, however not 'most men' and unexpectedly step into the big man meeting him head-on. One arm over his powerful shoulders and the other under his crotch and I power the big man up allowing his momentum to carry him over into a power-slam. It is a great move and leaves the powerhouse badly shaken. I know he'll recover but I have my doubts about the coffee table. I'd really love to take my time and work this guy over while he's goofy but friend # two needs some attention first.

The next man has the classic physique of a fireplug.  Not much obvious fat to speak of, just hundreds of pounds of short, thick, powerful MUSCLE. This guy has a body that falls somewhere between an Abrams tank and a block of concrete. Before I can get set Horse #2 flies through the door like a runaway freight train!  I'm pretty fast with my fists but not fast enough. I target his lantern jaw but before I can connect the big man's body slams into my gut sweeping me off my feet and driving my muscular frame into a brick wall.  I'm thinking we would have destroyed a typical sheet rock wall, but the solid brick structure holds solid.  Unfortunately, that means my body ends up absorbing the entire force of 250 or 260 pounds of rampaging beef.

There is an explosion of air from deep inside my body as I feel numbing pain shooting up my spine.  "OOOOOOOOFFFF!" I hear myself groan as this mountain of muscle plants his two meaty paws on my prize pectorals powering my stunned body back against the wall again. He doesn't leave me a second to regroup before ripping a series of punches deep into the center of my rippling gut.

On a good day I would have enjoyed testing my washboard abs against this massive stud's sledgehammer fists but today is not a good day. Each time I'm able to gasp even a small amount of air the big brute powers in another round of agonizing punches and knocks it back out of me.

"I got to tell you, Man!" My densely muscled attacker chuckles. "I REALLY love using you big buff bodybuilders as my punching bag. You ass-holes think your big pretty rippling muscles are so strong and so tough, I get off on showing you big boys what real MAN muscle can DO!"

There is no question that his hunk is incredibly strong! His massive arms power his huge fists with devastating force. I swear that given enough time this mammoth athlete could punch his way through a solid concrete wall. He certainly is not holding back as he rampages my washboard abdominals! The muscular powerhouse isn't even breathing hard after 30 or 40 punches but his massive fists have left me unable to breathe at all. Moving like a trained boxer the big man keeps up his guard even though it is completely unnecessary. He smiles as he bobs and weaves stepping back one pace.

The damage to my spine from the force of his massive body crushing mine into the wall has left my well-muscled arms and legs numb. I thought I had recovered from the last savage beating but this big horse has nearly destroyed any ability to fight back.  This man is a great deal tougher than I thought. I try to stand but without the big man's fists pounding me into the wall and my cast iron gut nearly completely decimated, I can no longer stand upright.  Helplessly doubling over, my muscular legs tremble and collapse under my own weight.

Horse #2 stands before me laughing. "Well, my muscle-bound friend! It doesn't look like you're nearly as tough as you thought. Does it?"

Mr. G.Q. and Horse #1 begin moving around and struggle to make it to their feet. I can only imagine what it will be like if I let these guys fully recover. On my knees and doubled over, I can see Horse #2's feet just before me. Gasp after gasp, I slowly begin working small amounts of air back into my lungs. Feeling is slowing returning to my arms and legs but along with that comes overwhelming pain. I feel as though the very muscles of my body have been torn from the bone!!!! And I know the worst is yet to come!!!!!

I dig deep down inside. I'm not sure if it is fear of what is to come or anger for the damage already done but where it comes from is not important. I lean back slightly and fire my right fist as hard as I can straight up between the two thickly muscled legs before me.

"AAAAAIIIIIIIIIIGGGGH!" An ear-splitting scream lets me know that my punch was on target. I am barely able

to struggle to one knee as the giant block of muscle drops to his knees before me, a glassy-eyed look of pain and disbelief on his face, his massive hands gripping his damaged manhood as though anything would relieve the agony. As his massive shoulders fold

forward I am barely able to make it to my feet before dropping my knee behind the base of his thick neck.  Our combined body weight drives the huge athlete face first into the floor. From pure instinct the big man tries to press his hands and push himself up as any remaining consciousness slips away. Horse #2 unceremoniously drops to the floor, motionless.

By now, Horse #1 struggles to one knee as I barely stand, wobbling above his massive friend. He stares at me with a look of pain and bewilderment on his rugged face for a brief moment as I begin to spin before him. My foot lashes out connecting solidly with his jaw. The muscular stud had not fully regained consciousness before that precious commodity was denied him again.

Seeking some kind of escape, Mr. G.Q. makes it up to one knee. Even though I still cannot stand upright and I wobble on my feet, my buffed bodybuilder physique must still be making the desired impression.  Mr. G.Q. slowly and painfully makes it to both feet and tries to stretch his damaged muscles. I wonder if he has any idea how badly hurt I am?

"You like to kick me in the guts, do you? You're a real stud when you face somebody who's already beat up. How about you show me what you got now? Come on big man, do your stuff!" I am trying to sound as macho as possible. My abs have been pulverized by the big man's fists but maybe Mr. G.Q. doesn't know that.  It's a chance I am going to have to take.

The dude begs and whimpers but knows he isn't going to get out of this easy. He approaches cautiously then spins and nails me with a surprisingly strong side kick. I have to admit, the dude had good form and delivers a solid blow. It would have hurt a lesser man, but my adrenalin is pumping after my warm up and nothing he can do is going to hurt me. I grip his leg with my left arm and power a solid punch just above the knee. He yelps like a hurt puppy.

The dude is hopping around on one leg unable to attack so I nail him with a couple of more punches to the side of his knee. YEOW! AAAHHH! DAMN!

I yell at the bastard, "Wimp! You look like you're in pretty good shape, come on, fight me!"

The dude limps around trying to keep his balance, "No, Man. I don't want to fight you! Dude, I'm sorry for what I did in the parking lot. I don't know what came over me. I just HAD to while I could."

Well, this is your lucky day. You get a second chance. You want to punch me? Go ahead, have at it.  You want to pound my gut? It's all yours!

What the hell was I thinking? My abs have been pounded by a pro. What if this dude gets lucky? I stand with my arms spread out to the side inviting Mr. G.Q. to do his best. He is scared, but he also seems to realize that he isn't going to get out of this any other way. The dude looks at his two buddies out cold on the floor, then limps forward and delivers two or three of his best shots to my former brick wall abs.

What a fucking waste, even in my worked over condition! The dude is pretty good size, not buff but looks like he could be formidable in a GQ kind of way, but he punches like a girl!

"Shit, Dude! You need to sign up at a real gym and learn how to fight. When you throw a punch you gotta put your shoulder into it. Like this!" I lean back and give him a solid shot to the center of his gut.  The man's stomach looks a LOT harder than it really is. I inadvertently over-power the punch and my fist drives through his weak defenses like a cannon shot.  The dude doubles over and collapses in my arms.

In order to keep him from falling, my arms clasp around his ribcage. It's not his intention but it is like he is offering himself for a bear-hug. Shit! Never pass up an invitation, I always say.

I grip around his chest and lift the dude off his feet. "AAAAARGH" is all he can yelp as my pythons begin to crush the air from his lungs. I LOVE the bear-hug. I enjoy the feeling of another man struggling against my might. The look on his face, the strain of his muscles, the panic of his spirit as he discovers that he is held helplessly in my grip. I now have total control of when or IF he will be allowed to take another breath of air!!!!

Mr. G.Q.'s cover-boy body strains and stretches but to no avail. With every labored breath his lungs lose more air than they gain. The stud's face is turning red as he begins to beg me for his very life. This young stud is in my total control!

"PLEASE! AAAARGH! Please, Man! I give up. I give.  I give! I ... can't .. Breathe! Man! You're killing me. Please let me go. P..L..E..A...S...E"

His head flops against my thick chest and there is no further movement. Damn! This guy is weaker than I thought. Lucky, I didn't break him completely.

I drop the young stud in a heap at my feet and stagger out the door. As I get closer to the pool, I'm standing straighter and straighter. Hummmm, I think to myself; I just kicked the asses of two pretty strong guys and one wimp. Not bad. Not bad at all!

As I approach the pool, I notice Mr. Fixit lounging

there surrounded with beautiful girls. He's now in square cut swim trunks and looking strong. He's gotten a great tan while I've been laid up. I have a strong desire to take this man down in a very public way, but now is certainly not the time. I don't want to give this rugged little dude any chance to put up a fight against my far superior body.

I don't know if he even notices me or not as I head to the workout area of the gym which already has a few too many people in it for my personal comfort. I head straight through to the basketball court to shoot some hoops.

The court is vacant so I take my time trying various shots and loosening up my big body. "SWISH" yep, still got the touch. Nothing but net!

After a few dozen shots, I'm starting to feel pretty good about myself. I can move around without too much pain, but my abs still feed the damage inflicted by

Horse #2.

"Flying solo, Big Guy?" the voice shattered the stillness of the court.  Mr. Fixit grins confidently, "How about a little one-on-one? What do you say?"

The Maintenance man is older and smaller but the little shit is fast and real damn good at basketball!  The little guy is hitting some amazing shots and is really pissing me off!

As the point spread starts to grow, I start to get more aggressive and the game gets a little more physical.  I've got the size and power advantage and begin using my massive build to muscle the smaller man around.  I'm not really careful with my elbows and drill the smaller man with a few to the chops. The last time, finally drawing blood.

"I see you get pissed when you lose. You must be pissed a lot!" the smart mouth shouts as he brings the ball in. The battle of words escalates to the inevitable conclusion. I'm not sure what I was thinking, or even if I was thinking at all but after I rough him up enough, I get what I am after.

Mr. Fixit finally has enough and throws the ball in the corner. "You want a piece of me?" he shouts.  "Really! Just the two of us, no set up, just you and me one-on-one? Are you SURE that's what you want to do? Remember, you've had your ass kicked twice. Do you want to step back and think about this?"

The smaller dude is cocky as hell and that helps piss me off some more. This guy took me the first time with a cheap shot, then he compounded that by kicking my ass in public after he'd already carefully trashed my powerful muscles. This time will be on the up and up. No excuses, no "tools" to weaken me.  After all, he has no way to know about my little altercation on the way over.

I flex and stretch knowing just how imposing my muscular body is. "I'll tell you what I think. I think it's time you got your ass kicked!" as I move into a wrestler's crouch anxious to get my big arms around this dude and crush him into total submission.  Who knows? I might even let it go at that!

Mr. Fixit moves fast but he's got to bring the fight to me and when he does, he will be Dead Meat. Feint after feint the smaller man tests my defenses. Once in a while he sweeps in and nails me with a hard jab to the head but the son-of-a-bitch is gone before I can get my hands on him. The fight moves on without any real contact but the continuous parry and fake is beginning to wear me down. I'm afraid that the Maintenance Man will notice how hard it is for me to move.

The little guy catches me with a head-fake to the right and when I follow, I am nailed with a hard kick just inside my left knee. Outrageous pain rips up and down my leg and I nearly drop to the floor. My strategy escapes me as I instinctively move to protect my damaged left knee just as the stud moves with

blinding speed unloading a devastating kick inside my right knee!

"AAAAAHHHHH" I hear myself scream and it is all I can do to stay on my feet. I reach forward to grab my adversary but he is out of reach. My big arms wave back in an effort to maintain my balance as Mr. Fixit screams "You're a Dead Man" and unloads a series of HARD shin blows to my thighs on both legs. My screams of agony attract spectators from the pool and immediately they begin cheering for their new hero.  To a person, everyone is enjoying it as they watch the smaller man take it to the big ripped muscleman.

Dancing like a Muay Thai fighter, the Maintenance Man delivers more and more damage to my heavily muscled tree-trunk legs. I am now anchored to the ground unable to escape. My only chance is to get a grip on this bastard!

As I lunge for him, Mr. Fixit uses his superior speed and flexibility to easily avoid my grasp and slipping behind me he attacks with a half-dozen deadly kicks to my hamstrings and low back. My big body arches back in agony. Unable to move I am a helpless target for the faster fighters’ vicious strikes.

"You know, Big Man. I'm really starting to enjoy kicking your ASS!" He shouts as he actually kicks my ass sending me sprawling on the gym floor. The crowd laughs at my plight! My big legs are all but useless as through indescribable pain I struggle to my knees only to take a gut ripping kick to my stomach that flips me over on my back.

I barely know where I am. I only know that every part of my body is in agony and a great deal of my muscles no longer work. "How about it, Muscleman? Have you had just about enough?" I hear the question but am

unable to answer before the smaller man drops from above gripping my wrists and pinning my once muscular arms to the floor. Mr. Fixit throws all his weight into the hold then smashes down with one knee smashing into my already worked over abs. Instantly I am paralyzed with pain shooting every direction from the center of my well-muscled body. Every ounce of air is forced from my lungs and my damaged solar plexus in incapable of replacing it.

Over and over to the cheers and count of the assembled spectators, Mr. Fixit drills his full bodyweight behind alternating knee drops into my destroyed stomach. With my protective wall of thick muscle no longer working, the rugged fighter delivers his damaging blows deeper and deeper inside by broken down body until I deliriously begin chocking on the contents of my own stomach.

"Damn, Son. With all those giant muscles I thought you'd be able to put up a better fight than that." The hard-bodied stud shouts down before leaving me thoroughly beaten, helpless and semi-conscious on the gym floor. The crowd is laughing and patting their

hero on the back while the Maintenance Man and this entourage head back to the pool.

"We'll take care of what's left" someone says as he instructs another man to take an arm. I barely know where I am as the two men pull me up with one of my arms over each shoulder, they carefully guide me to the locker room.

I feel relief to find the locker room is vacant giving me a little peace and preventing any further embarrassment. As the two men guide me toward a bench, we pass a full length mirror and I catch my first sight of my 'helpers'. My heart sinks as I realize I am helplessly standing between the two big muscle studs I beat up earlier. Shit! I thought, how could this get any worse, just as Mr. G.Q. steps before me with a big smile on his face he surveys the landscape.

The two big football player types grip solidly on my wrists supporting my muscular frame upright while Mr. G.Q. enjoys himself smashing fist after fist into my broken down abs. I struggle with all my might to resist but even wimp boy is able to inflict more damage to my weakened body until, dripping with sweat, he stands exhausted. Mr. G.Q. reaches up gripping my jaw. Barely conscious, it takes a moment for my eyes to focus. He smiles as he shakes my face, "Oh, Yeah.  You're real a tough muscleman! Well, you don't look too damn tough now! Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha." His laugh is nearly hysterical.

Horse #1, the well-built linebacker type releases my left arm and steps in front to stabilize me and keep me from falling down. I can no longer stand under my own power. Horse #2, the fireplug muscleman pulls my right arm from his shoulder and steps behind. I feel the heat from his massively muscled arms as he wraps around my waist from behind. Horse #2 chuckles in my ear as he forms a fist with his left hand then grips his left wrist with his right hand. As he wrenches his hold tighter, his fist is forced into my worked over abdominal muscles. The powerful athlete barely strains as he pulls me fully upright and flexes his big arms tightening his reverse bear hug.

"UUUUUGHHH" is all I can utter as the stud's granite fist sinks deeper into my gut. Both men in front laugh out loud at the pain and anguish of the helpless bodybuilder before them. Horse #2 unleashes another mighty flex and I uncontrollably begin to double over but Horse #1 is more than happy to catch me in his massive guns. Gripping solidly behind my back, he executes his own bear hug. Both powerful men flex their muscular bodies at the same time and I am introduced to a new level of pain and torture. Both men laugh as the big bodybuilder is slowly crushed between 500 pounds of premium muscle!

The smaller of the four, Mr. G.Q. can do little more than give me shit while his two heavy-weight buddies squeeze all remaining air from my heavily muscled body.

I struggle to find some way to hold off their incredible power. I pound on the broad shoulders of Horse #1 even though I know it is all but useless.  Without air and my ribs nearing the breaking point, my massive arms fall slack to my sides. A few more helpless groans and I am out like a light.  I feel the cool bench pressing against my back. First, I hear, then begin to feel as Mr. G.Q. attempts to slap me around. Every part of my body is in pain but at least I can breathe, although it is in short agonizing breaths. I am still in a fog. I know something is going on, but I cannot quite snap out of it.

I am faintly aware as the two big dudes pick me up and put what little is left of me in the sauna.  Thankfully they turn the heat down so passersby won't think anything is unusual and the heat won't cook the occupant. The guys head back to the gym to get a real work-out.

Before the big guys are done pumping iron, the Maintenance Man and his entourage return and ask about the big muscle stud. "He wasn't feeling too hot after your last fight and is relaxing in the sauna." Horse #2 replies with a twinkle in his eye.

"We'll go find him" a couple of athletic looking studs from around the pool head for the locker room. It doesn't take long before the young studs return with

the big bodybuilder staggering between them.

"Good, you're still holding up pretty well." Mr. Fixit announces for all to hear. "A bunch of the gang showed up late and missed the fun. They didn't believe that I kicked your muscle-bound ass AGAIN so I offered to give them another show. Just to be fair and give you a real chance this time - No wrestling holds, no Karate just straight fist fight, you and me, mano y mano. Put up your dukes Big Muscleman, it's ShowTime!"

I know this guy and I know that nothing I do or say is going to stop this fight. I also know that anything I say is going to make me look like a weak wimp in front of everybody there. My battered brain is barely working but I know there is a challenge before me and my only chance is to take the dude on and clean his clock.

The crowd is cheering like rabid hyenas around a fresh kill. They want to see a fight, but more than that, they want to see the smaller hard-bodied athlete pound the crap out of the big powerful muscleman.  I put up my guard and make every effort to move around and loosen up but I know my arms and shoulders lack

any real power. The Maintenance Man is moving around me like a pro. He staying away from me then stepping in quickly and popping hard shots to my biceps and shoulders. Every punch is hurting and hurting me BAD. I know I can't continue to take this kind of pounding. Once in a while he gets in a quick jab to my jaw just to keep me away from him. I am barely quick enough to deflect some of his punches, but the little stud hits so hard my arms are beginning to ache from the punishment.

Just as I start to regain some speed and power, the little stud's fists pound it back out of me. It doesn't take long before the pounding to my biceps and shoulders starts to take its toll. He leaves an opening and I take it. My punch is both slow and weak and the smaller man slips in underneath and slams a hard punch to my ribs! I drop my arm to cover the damage and he drills my biceps with a vicious right that sends sharp pain radiating up and down my left arm.

The crowd is cheering the smaller man who looks like he is taking the big muscleman to boxing school. I'm getting hurt bad and need to take this arrogant bastard out and fast. I notice that he drops his guard just before launching those painful combination punches to my arms. He leaves himself open for just a second. If I can get a good punch or two in to that grinning mug, I'll teach this little stud what real power is.

His guard drops, now is my big chance. My big right hand whistles with all the power I have left, straight toward the dude's jaw, but I don't feel the expected impact, instead I take a bone rattling power left into my right lat muscle. Maintenance Man's punch hits with so much power that I am momentarily crippled!  It's all I can do to stay on my feet.

I stagger before him and the smaller stud unloads his combination punches to my big right arm. I think we both notice at the same time that I am no longer able to raise my arms much above my upper abs. With a big, shit-eating grin the little stud begins ripping power punches to my chest and shoulders, occasionally pounding my biceps just for fun. I try to protect myself but my big arms are no longer responding. I desperately try to throw a punch but my fists are so slow the smaller athlete just pushes them away then rips a few power shots into my wide open abs. It doesn't take many of those before it shows how defenseless I am against the power of his fists.

The crowd cheers the 'underdog' while the Maintenance Man works his prey as though I were a giant punching bag. His punishing fists rain down on what's left of me. I'm able to stay on my feet only because all of his power has gone into pounding the massive muscles

in my arms, shoulders and chest. Mr. Fixit doesn't want to put me away. He wants to impress one and all with his total physical superiority over me. He wants to clearly demonstrate that he can pound me at will and I am unable to prevent him. His plan works perfectly as my well-muscled physique becomes nothing more than his target.

"Come on, Muscleman. Show me some fight. Don't be afraid of me. Get some balls and fight like a MAN!"  It is not enough to pound me into pulp, the dude wants me totally humiliated as well!

Mr. Fixit suddenly drops his guard and steps before me. The rugged little fighter stands there with his fists on his hips and his lean hard muscled body flexed. "Don't just stand there!" He screams in my face. "Hit me, you chicken-shit bastard!" The thick muscles in my arms and shoulders have been rendered useless. I can't throw a punch and he knows it.  Hell, I can no longer block any of his vicious punches. "O.K. Muscle Stud. Have it your way!" he yells more for the benefit of the crowd than me as Mr. Fixit begins working over my already wasted abs with an occasional jab to the jaw just to keep me upright.

There is no longer even a pretense of a fight as the Maintenance Man backs my big body into a nearby post and presses his shoulder into my massive chest. The Maintenance Man then begins his final attack on my

midsection. I try my best to flex but each powerful fist easily knocks any remaining resistance from me.  I try to give up, but lack the air to speak loud enough for him to hear me.

"I give, I give. Damn, Dude. Don't hurt me anymore. I give up!" I can barely whisper the words. I'm sure the hard bodied stud can hear me, but he chooses to ignore my pleas.

I lose count of the number of times his fists unload the power of his lean hard body into my weakening frame. It isn't long after I lose count, that I also lose consciousness. I'm told that when he finally stepped back, I dropped to my knees with a blank expression on my face. I continued falling and smashed face first to the floor with no sign of movement. I was KO'd by the stud's body shots!

"Damn! This guy is fun to have around!" I hear a familiar voice echoing in my brain. I can hear the crowd chanting as Mr. Fixit slaps be back to consciousness. "More! More! More" The ass-holes want blood - or worse.

The Maintenance Man shows his dexterity and strength by reaching forward and pulling me back to my feet.  There is no way I can stand. Nothing in my big body is left working. With one arm over my shoulder and the other between my legs the rugged fighter lifts me across his chest and carries me through the double doors to the pool area. My head is swimming. I have no idea what he wants or what is coming next, but I

don't have to wait long. As we get to poolside the Maintenance Man lets out a slight grunt and lifts me a little higher before smashing his muscular opponent's back across his knee!

I am nearly broken in two as Mr. Fixit lifts and smashes my broken body across his knee again before allowing me to roll face first into the pool. The cool water feels so good after the beatings my muscles have absorbed today that at first, I fail to recognize that my head was under water. The Maintenance Man then jumps to maximum height and cannonballs with a single knee square to the center of my nearly broken low back driving me deeper into the pool.  I have to get away. I MUST get to the surface. The impact to my damaged back leaves my legs temporarily numb and useless. I can feel the Maintenance Man's solid body above me as his powerful legs grapevine my once powerful tree trunk legs. My feeble brain struggles for ideas to break the hold as my heavily muscled legs flex in vain for freedom. Before I can even start to counter his attack, Mr. Fixit skillfully locks a full-nelson behind my neck. My arms and legs immobilized I struggle helplessly against the rugged fighter’s power while he muscles my head down further and further to my chest.

I fight in blind panic against him but can barely move my arms and legs. The Maintenance Man's powerful grip gets tighter and tighter as I become weaker and weaker. I can feel my hands break the surface and I sense the Maintenance Man's chest swell as he inhales fresh air.

I know the fight is over. My opponent has an unlimited supply of air while I have none. I am held in a death grip unable to move, unable to signal my defeat or beg my submission. This is no longer a fight for pride or ego, this rugged stud now has the very power of life or death. Mr. Fixit has no benefit to take my life, but if he should choose mercy, I will owe my very existence to him for the rest of my days.  I continued to struggle with all my remaining strength as the darkness overtook me.

"Cough! Cough! Sputter" The very sound of my own body struggling for air begins to bring me around. I am face first on the side of the pool and can barely see the crowd of well-wishers as they follow the Maintenance Man to his chair at the far end.

"It's alright, Buddy." Someone says. "You can't win them all." Just as another voice chimes in, "Gee.  This guy doesn't seem able to win any!" and I can hear two maybe three laughs. I am still coughing and sputtering as two obviously powerful guys are picking me up. Someone stands in front of me slapping me around to wake me up. When I can finally look up, I find it is my 'friendly' neighbor and his henchmen on

each side.

"Come on. Let's take the poor sap home. I think he's had enough of a workout for one day." I try to make my legs work in an effort to save my toes as they half-drag, half-walk me back to my place. They get me as far as my living room and my buff neighbor notices all the weightlifting gear. "Shit! No wonder this dude looks so big. Look at all the weight this man lifts. Damn! You must be one strong mutha! You must think you can take on the world with those big guns?  Huh? Is that it, Big Man? You come over to my place and pound on my buddies and beat the shit out of me, just because you have these huge muscles? Well, Dude. Earlier today, you invited me to try my Karate on your rock-solid abs. What do you say guys? Shall I take this guy up on his invitation?

I try to struggle as the two powerful athletes use my heavy leather lifting straps to secure my wrists and ankles to the thick steel beams of my weightlifting cage.

I know what is coming but lack the power or ability to stop it. I have already been beaten nearly to death and even MY powerfully muscled body is no longer able

to withstand another attack.

I had taken care to set up my lifting cage in the front window of my living room and generally left the bar loaded with 300 pounds or so. I want everyone to know that a real stud lives here. Now they can see for themselves as I'm suspended spread-eagled to my own lifting cage.

Mr. G.Q. steps up first and assumes his karate stance. "You want to see what I got, Big Man. Take a close look!" as he fires a hard right fist to my jaw. "Now for some fun!" he exclaims as he begins firing a seemingly endless barrage of machinegun punches up and down my defenseless stomach.

G.Q. continued drilling home his point by delivering powerful front kicks and deadly spinning back kicks further devastating the thick muscle groups on my legs, my abs, pecs, lats and obliques. I flex with what little I have left but I remain totally defenseless against his attack.

WHAM! SLAM! POW! WHAM! CRUNCH!

"AAARRGH! OFFFF! UUUUUUUGH! OOOOOOOGH!" Each powerful punch and kick efficiently breaks me down further and further. Finally, after an eternity, G.Q. stops the pounding, both of us dripping with sweat.

Horse #1 steps forward and grips his huge hand across my forehead pushing my head back until we look eye to eye. I've had all I can take. "I'm done, Man. No more! I can't take anymore! It's over, Man. I give. I give up."  I barely have enough energy left to focus my eyes.  The handsome and well-muscled athlete locks his eyes on mine. "I understand you, Dude! You've taken a few pretty good shots today. I have to admit that I

really thought a man with a body like yours would have held up a lot better, you know? I mean you've let some guys smaller than you pretty much take you apart. I don't know how tough these guys are, but damn, it doesn't look good for a big husky stud like you.  You're giving us muscular guys a bad name! You see, it looks like everybody's gotten a shot at you today ... Except me!"

Horse #1 raises his massive arms into a double-biceps pose and demonstrates his muscular build for me. I have to admit the bastard looks damn near as good as I do. "You see, my friend. I need to get my licks in too. I sure hope you understand."

"See here? You've got these huge great looking biceps, but when you were fighting your little Maintenance Man, he made you look like a weak little wimp! Guns like ours should be INDESTRUCTABLE!" The muscular horse then opened up with incredibly powerful punches with his bare knuckles smashing repeatedly to the center of my biceps on each arm. Outrageous pain begins to radiate up and down my arms and it feels like every muscle fiber is being crushed and torn to oblivion. I swear my guns may never work again! The minute hand on my wall clock seems to stand still as I discover the big man's incredible fortitude. For a full twenty minutes he powers his mighty fists, punching only to my biceps. Finally, he steps back and smiles, my once powerful frame stretches out hanging from totally devastated arms.

"Should we take him down now?" Horse #2 asks out loud and for once I can hope this thing is over. The mass of solid muscle turns to me and holds a granite fist in my face. "No! Not quite yet!" he laughs and drills his huge right fist into my gut. I think my whole world just ended, but I can still hear his laugh. "O.K. Muscleman. Hang on for me!"

Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham!

 It seems like it will never stop. My mouth hangs open as I try desperately for every little bit of air but it is useless. This man is unbreakable. His hammer-like fists are unstoppable. I slide in and out of consciousness until finally everything goes dark. I think I am dead. I wake and cannot move. I am on a soft surface but still every point on my body is in agony. Someone changes a cool cloth across my forehead as slowly I focus. It's Mr. G.Q.!

"Relax, Big Stud. You're going to be just fine. You just kind of went to sleep on us. Couldn't hold up to a little gut punching, huh? We'll, don't worry, I've got some exercises that will help you with that. But, relax for now. We won't start working your abs until tomorrow!"  G.Q. places another cool compress on my head as I begin to drift off again.

Wait!!!! TOMORROW ??????????????????????