Fiction

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The Great Escape From Steve’s Extreme Fitness Center
By Dan Blankenship
© 2007 Dan Blankenship


“Bro, welcome to Steve’s Extreme Fitness Center! I’m Steve, owner, trainer, instructor, manager, and scheduler!”

“I’m Bill, I was just…”

“I know bro, you’re here to lose some body fat, add muscle tone, build up your endurance, maybe lay down a tan, and get ready for the beach, where the ladies are going to go crazy over the new you that Steve’s Extreme Fitness Center is going to create!”

“No, that’s not what I…”

“Oh, bro, I got ya, man, you’re a cage fighter. Dude, I got three black belts…one in Shorein Ryu, one in Isshin’ Ryu, and one in a system I developed last year…I call it Steve-Ryu; some people call it Extreme Steve Ryu, but I don’t like to brag. I won the golden gloves in 1998, 1999, 2000, and 2001. Gave four of my opponents a concussion and knocked one guy into the second row. I’ll train ya good, bro. I wrestled all six years of high school, too!”

“Six years of high school?”

“Hey, I didn’t have time for all that book stuff. I was busy building this creation you see before you. Look at these biceps, bro! Twenty-four inches of ripped protein mass. Dude, I could tear a New York City phone book in half before you could say ‘yes, I want to sign a ten year contract with Steve’s Extreme Fitness today!’”

“Ten year contract? No, I’m just here to…”

“Dude, I got it, you’re a long distance runner! Oh man, you’re in luck! I just bought a new virtual reality treadmill! It makes sure you don’t stop running! See, it has a virtual dog that chases you, then I hook up these electrodes that shock you if you slow down…feels just like a dog's teeth biting your calf! Coolest thing ever, I tell ya! Totally extreme, totally…so you ready to sign up, bro!”

“Steve, I’m not here to bulk up, lose, weight, get a tan, become a cage fighter, or train for a marathon.”

“Good, dude, I’m an ultra-marathoner myself! Those regular marathons are a joke! 26.2 miles; I could do that every day, before breakfast!”

“Steve, I’m not here to sign up for a membership!”

“Bro, don’t raise your voice to me! I’ll slap your head out your hair!”

“Sorry, I was just trying to get you to shut up for a minute…”

“Dude, did you just tell me to shut up?”

“No, I was just trying to explain to you…”

“Oh, you have to explain something to me? You saying I’m stupid?”

“No, that’s not what…I…I…”

“So, you going to sign up for a membership or what? Dude, are you praying? What kind of a sissy prays?”

“That guy back there on the bench press machine is praying right now.”

“Where? Hey, there isn’t even anyone back there on the bench press machine! Hey, get back here, you! Man, ultra-marathoners can be the biggest sissies sometimes! Come back here you pencil-neck geek! You tricked me! Ahh, whatever! Run away! You probably can’t even squat more than 900 pounds anyways!”

“Dear Lord, sorry about having to tell a small fib to get out of that situation. Maybe you could find another person to tell Steve his lease can’t be extended because the owner is selling the property? Someone slightly bigger and extremely well trained in the art of self-defense?”

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