Warehouse Punk II
by
Gym Dude
by
Gym Dude
Things
went along pretty much as before. Dave continued his intimidation of
everyone around him, while at the same time acting as though there was nothing
going on. It was really amazing to watch. Dave was a lot of fun to be
around and everyone enjoyed his company, so much so, that we all ignored the
fact that when he wanted to “play around” one or more of us would end up
hurting. To him it always seemed like great fun, but to us there was
always a clear message, a reminder of his amazing power and total domination of
every man there. “Every Man” now included the big bodybuilder.
Getting back to the gym helped accelerate the healing process and as the days passed, I got better and better. After nearly a month, I was getting back into the kind of condition I was in before my ill-advised “fight” with Dave. My power was slowly returning, but my position at the warehouse was gone for good. Dave had proven beyond any doubt exactly who was the top dog and while the other guys never knew what had gone on between us, it was pretty clear that Dave was no longer afraid of me. Not afraid at all.
Dave would play his games and I would fall in line with the other guys. They would resist Dave’s holds at first then fold quickly under his power and control, the outcome never in question. In my still weakened condition, even the big bodybuilder would buckle and fold just like the others.
It wasn’t long before Dave and I were teamed up at work again. We were unloading some boxes at the back of the warehouse. During a break we started chatting. “Hey Turbo, all that time in the gym is really starting to pay off.” Dave commented. “You’re looking pretty good., bigger and stronger than before”. I wasn’t used to compliments, Dave was usually concentrating on putting us down, and keeping us down. I had to admit he was right, I was looking great. My lightweight black tank-top showed off my buff body at its best.
“Let’s see how you’re coming along there” Dave said matter-of-factly as he stepped before me for a closer look. I flexed just a little to enhance the view. I should have known better, but I was caught totally flat-footed as the first punch whistled in. This time Dave wasn’t holding back or play fighting as usual. His fists were so fast he nailed me with three power punches before I even had a chance to flex my abs in defense. “Let’s see just how tough those muscles are, buddy” Dave said as he ripped in another half dozen agonizing punches.
In my normal condition, even getting sucker punched I could have held off the kid’s attack, but after the recent beating, my brick-wall abs began to crumble. As usual, Dave’s moves were perfect. The incredible power of his fists not only tore me up, but controlled my muscular body back against a steel beam, forcing my stomach to absorb all of the kid’s punishment. The muscle kid’s legendary fists of stone took their toll as my muscular physique doubled over, wrapping around his fists. I had no defense. In a last-ditch effort, with what little power I had left, I reached forward and gripped both hands in a choke around the kid’s neck. I knew that wrestlers work hard building up their neck muscles, but this kid is incredible. It felt as though I were trying to squeeze an iron pipe, there was no give at all!
Dave stopped his attack and looked up. Our eyes met and he flashed that big smile of his letting me know that I wasn’t hurting him at all. “What’s this? The big muscleman wants to fight?” Dave drove his fists straight up between us, his powerful forearms easily knocking my grip away. “You think that with those big muscles, you’re ready to fight ME?”
I wanted to, God knows I wanted to, but I also knew that all the kid needed was the green flag and he would be more than happy to tear me apart, even right there at work. I knew I would be no match against his power in my present condition. “I’m sorry, man. Just instinct. I didn’t mean to fight back. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
Shit! Why did I have to throw in the last line? Why can’t I learn to keep my big mouth shut! Naturally, Dave picked up on it, big time.
“Ha! You hurt ME? Not likely, big stud. But if you want to give it a shot, let’s go. I tore your abs up last time and I wasn’t even working at it. I’d love to crush those big brawny arms of yours. You ever hear a biceps rupture? It’s really cool!” You could see the excitement all over him. Dave’s eyes looked like he was going into a trance as he replayed the story for me….
I was at the gym last week, when this muscleman came up and started giving me shit. He was a big dude, about your size or a little bigger and he wanted me in the ring so he could show his big muscle pals how to take the gym’s champ down and show him how a real man fights. That kind of crap pisses me off. In a heartbeat we were in the ring and he’s all over me like stink on shit. I let him put some of his big muscle moves on me, then about the time he thought I was done for, I’d flex out and he’d have to start all over. His big muscle buddies were cheering him on, then started giving him a bad time and egging him on to beat me up and finish me off.
Mr. Muscles was really strong, but was certainly not an accomplished wrestler. I could tell early on that he relied only on his power and massive muscles to try to control me. I took the big man’s muscle moves and countered with far superior wrestling skill. I was using escape moves that the big man had never seen. The muscleman was getting more and more frustrated.
I proved over and over that the big stud couldn’t hold me, then to add insult to injury, I started laughing at his feeble attempts. Finally, I began using my strength and skill to tie the big man up and control him. I would force him into position and use my muscular legs to work the bigger man’s beefy arms. His arms were so massive I could really clamp on them with my scissor holds, weakening him enough for some painful arm bars. The big stud really got pissed when I wrapped his big guns in a full-nelson variation, using my legs against arms.
His buddies were really giving him shit while I started working twisting and crushing holds that further weakened the big man. Mr. Muscle was nearly defenseless when I started punching the upper body pounding his pecs, delts, lats and shoulders. He could only grunt and groan as I wore him down until he slowly began to realize it was hopeless, he was being defeated by the champ.
I laid in hold after hold, stretching, tearing and weakening his massive guns. His musclebound buddies were really on his case by then, but their friend was in way over his head, they just didn’t know it. I ground the big guy down and he wasn’t coming back. At first, he was furious, then it began to register just how much trouble he was in. I set the big lug up with three straight power-slams. The poor stupid shit didn’t even know where he was when I began laying in the knee drops to his massive right arm. He flexed harder and harder in an effort to hold off the damage, but that was just what I wanted. After ten or twelve knee drops there was a terrible sounding SNAP deep inside the muscle as his huge biceps ruptured and his powerful arm turned to mush. The big guy started screaming to high heaven and between screams begged me to let him go. I laughed at his sorry ass then treated the other arm with the same agonizing result.
The big guy’s muscle buddies were standing there in stunned silence as I lifted their hero to his feet and slapped him around a little. The big boy was defenseless and I could do anything I wanted, but I felt I had done enough damage for one day. I didn’t want to pound on some helpless punk, so I turned him over to a couple of my wrestling pals to use as a wrestling dummy. They had a good time and worked over the big muscleman for about a half hour before giving what little was left of him to his buddies. The guys wanted to act like they didn’t know him, but everybody knew better. They pulled his big arms over their shoulders which must have hurt like hell, but he was too badly beaten to raise much of a fuss.
Dave wrapped up his story and started to come back to earth. “So how about it. Do you want some of the same? I’m more than happy to share! How about it big stud? Wanna go a round or two with me?”
The kid was primed. I didn’t doubt a word he said. Dave never needed to enhance a story. He really wanted someone to give him the “go ahead”, but I was not going to be the one. Not today anyhow. I made every effort to calm the muscle kid down. “Listen man. I don’t want a piece of you. You’ve had your fun, let it go at that.”
Dave fired off another half dozen punches into my battered abs. Damn, it hurt. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Dave stepped back a step, looking my muscular build up and down, then slapped my pulverized abs and smiled his broad, “I’m in total control” smile. “You know, I like you, big guy. Out of all the muscle-heads here, you’re the only man who has ever had the guts to stand up to me. You’re no real competition, but you take your beating like a man and now and then even ask for more. You got balls, Turbo. I like that!”
The muscle kid backed off and we went back to work as though nothing had happened. The little shit is remarkable that way. He beats the shit out of you, then acts as though it’s an everyday thing. Of course, it seemed like it was becoming a common occurrence to me, far too common!
I learned something more that day. Dave’s little world isn’t perfect either. There is one major downside to being undisputed Top Dog, and that is the simple fact that you never have any real competition. No man in the warehouse had ever provided a real challenge to the powerful kid. In high school and college, there were always guys training hard to take him down. There seemed no end to the variety of competition, so he always trained to keep his edge. Now he never found a real challenge and is only motivated to train a couple of times a week. Even the massive bodybuilder last week ended up easily crushed into total submission by the powerful kid. The big shit never even had a chance.
That’s it! The kid is unbeatable in wrestling and his destructive fists keep him on top, but there are other ways to challenge him. And if a challenge is what he wants, I’m just the man to do it!!!!!!
Getting back to the gym helped accelerate the healing process and as the days passed, I got better and better. After nearly a month, I was getting back into the kind of condition I was in before my ill-advised “fight” with Dave. My power was slowly returning, but my position at the warehouse was gone for good. Dave had proven beyond any doubt exactly who was the top dog and while the other guys never knew what had gone on between us, it was pretty clear that Dave was no longer afraid of me. Not afraid at all.
Dave would play his games and I would fall in line with the other guys. They would resist Dave’s holds at first then fold quickly under his power and control, the outcome never in question. In my still weakened condition, even the big bodybuilder would buckle and fold just like the others.
It wasn’t long before Dave and I were teamed up at work again. We were unloading some boxes at the back of the warehouse. During a break we started chatting. “Hey Turbo, all that time in the gym is really starting to pay off.” Dave commented. “You’re looking pretty good., bigger and stronger than before”. I wasn’t used to compliments, Dave was usually concentrating on putting us down, and keeping us down. I had to admit he was right, I was looking great. My lightweight black tank-top showed off my buff body at its best.
“Let’s see how you’re coming along there” Dave said matter-of-factly as he stepped before me for a closer look. I flexed just a little to enhance the view. I should have known better, but I was caught totally flat-footed as the first punch whistled in. This time Dave wasn’t holding back or play fighting as usual. His fists were so fast he nailed me with three power punches before I even had a chance to flex my abs in defense. “Let’s see just how tough those muscles are, buddy” Dave said as he ripped in another half dozen agonizing punches.
In my normal condition, even getting sucker punched I could have held off the kid’s attack, but after the recent beating, my brick-wall abs began to crumble. As usual, Dave’s moves were perfect. The incredible power of his fists not only tore me up, but controlled my muscular body back against a steel beam, forcing my stomach to absorb all of the kid’s punishment. The muscle kid’s legendary fists of stone took their toll as my muscular physique doubled over, wrapping around his fists. I had no defense. In a last-ditch effort, with what little power I had left, I reached forward and gripped both hands in a choke around the kid’s neck. I knew that wrestlers work hard building up their neck muscles, but this kid is incredible. It felt as though I were trying to squeeze an iron pipe, there was no give at all!
Dave stopped his attack and looked up. Our eyes met and he flashed that big smile of his letting me know that I wasn’t hurting him at all. “What’s this? The big muscleman wants to fight?” Dave drove his fists straight up between us, his powerful forearms easily knocking my grip away. “You think that with those big muscles, you’re ready to fight ME?”
I wanted to, God knows I wanted to, but I also knew that all the kid needed was the green flag and he would be more than happy to tear me apart, even right there at work. I knew I would be no match against his power in my present condition. “I’m sorry, man. Just instinct. I didn’t mean to fight back. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
Shit! Why did I have to throw in the last line? Why can’t I learn to keep my big mouth shut! Naturally, Dave picked up on it, big time.
“Ha! You hurt ME? Not likely, big stud. But if you want to give it a shot, let’s go. I tore your abs up last time and I wasn’t even working at it. I’d love to crush those big brawny arms of yours. You ever hear a biceps rupture? It’s really cool!” You could see the excitement all over him. Dave’s eyes looked like he was going into a trance as he replayed the story for me….
I was at the gym last week, when this muscleman came up and started giving me shit. He was a big dude, about your size or a little bigger and he wanted me in the ring so he could show his big muscle pals how to take the gym’s champ down and show him how a real man fights. That kind of crap pisses me off. In a heartbeat we were in the ring and he’s all over me like stink on shit. I let him put some of his big muscle moves on me, then about the time he thought I was done for, I’d flex out and he’d have to start all over. His big muscle buddies were cheering him on, then started giving him a bad time and egging him on to beat me up and finish me off.
Mr. Muscles was really strong, but was certainly not an accomplished wrestler. I could tell early on that he relied only on his power and massive muscles to try to control me. I took the big man’s muscle moves and countered with far superior wrestling skill. I was using escape moves that the big man had never seen. The muscleman was getting more and more frustrated.
I proved over and over that the big stud couldn’t hold me, then to add insult to injury, I started laughing at his feeble attempts. Finally, I began using my strength and skill to tie the big man up and control him. I would force him into position and use my muscular legs to work the bigger man’s beefy arms. His arms were so massive I could really clamp on them with my scissor holds, weakening him enough for some painful arm bars. The big stud really got pissed when I wrapped his big guns in a full-nelson variation, using my legs against arms.
His buddies were really giving him shit while I started working twisting and crushing holds that further weakened the big man. Mr. Muscle was nearly defenseless when I started punching the upper body pounding his pecs, delts, lats and shoulders. He could only grunt and groan as I wore him down until he slowly began to realize it was hopeless, he was being defeated by the champ.
I laid in hold after hold, stretching, tearing and weakening his massive guns. His musclebound buddies were really on his case by then, but their friend was in way over his head, they just didn’t know it. I ground the big guy down and he wasn’t coming back. At first, he was furious, then it began to register just how much trouble he was in. I set the big lug up with three straight power-slams. The poor stupid shit didn’t even know where he was when I began laying in the knee drops to his massive right arm. He flexed harder and harder in an effort to hold off the damage, but that was just what I wanted. After ten or twelve knee drops there was a terrible sounding SNAP deep inside the muscle as his huge biceps ruptured and his powerful arm turned to mush. The big guy started screaming to high heaven and between screams begged me to let him go. I laughed at his sorry ass then treated the other arm with the same agonizing result.
The big guy’s muscle buddies were standing there in stunned silence as I lifted their hero to his feet and slapped him around a little. The big boy was defenseless and I could do anything I wanted, but I felt I had done enough damage for one day. I didn’t want to pound on some helpless punk, so I turned him over to a couple of my wrestling pals to use as a wrestling dummy. They had a good time and worked over the big muscleman for about a half hour before giving what little was left of him to his buddies. The guys wanted to act like they didn’t know him, but everybody knew better. They pulled his big arms over their shoulders which must have hurt like hell, but he was too badly beaten to raise much of a fuss.
Dave wrapped up his story and started to come back to earth. “So how about it. Do you want some of the same? I’m more than happy to share! How about it big stud? Wanna go a round or two with me?”
The kid was primed. I didn’t doubt a word he said. Dave never needed to enhance a story. He really wanted someone to give him the “go ahead”, but I was not going to be the one. Not today anyhow. I made every effort to calm the muscle kid down. “Listen man. I don’t want a piece of you. You’ve had your fun, let it go at that.”
Dave fired off another half dozen punches into my battered abs. Damn, it hurt. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Dave stepped back a step, looking my muscular build up and down, then slapped my pulverized abs and smiled his broad, “I’m in total control” smile. “You know, I like you, big guy. Out of all the muscle-heads here, you’re the only man who has ever had the guts to stand up to me. You’re no real competition, but you take your beating like a man and now and then even ask for more. You got balls, Turbo. I like that!”
The muscle kid backed off and we went back to work as though nothing had happened. The little shit is remarkable that way. He beats the shit out of you, then acts as though it’s an everyday thing. Of course, it seemed like it was becoming a common occurrence to me, far too common!
I learned something more that day. Dave’s little world isn’t perfect either. There is one major downside to being undisputed Top Dog, and that is the simple fact that you never have any real competition. No man in the warehouse had ever provided a real challenge to the powerful kid. In high school and college, there were always guys training hard to take him down. There seemed no end to the variety of competition, so he always trained to keep his edge. Now he never found a real challenge and is only motivated to train a couple of times a week. Even the massive bodybuilder last week ended up easily crushed into total submission by the powerful kid. The big shit never even had a chance.
That’s it! The kid is unbeatable in wrestling and his destructive fists keep him on top, but there are other ways to challenge him. And if a challenge is what he wants, I’m just the man to do it!!!!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment