Lunchbox Larry was ecstatic. There were three times in his life he’s ever been this happy. 1. When Bobby Dean agreed to be his mentor. 2. When he saw his first pair of boobies. 3. And today. He couldn’t wait to tell his mentor the good news. Secretly hoping that he hadn’t already been told, he rushes through the front doors of the 24 Hour Fitness.
Having been around Bobby Dean for as long as he has, Larry knows after a victory his friend likes to spend the following day at the nearest gym. Usually sitting on one of the workout apparatuses, with a big lemon glazed blueberry Bundt cake in hand. He does not actually workout, unless you count the curls he does to bring the Bundt cake from the plate to his mouth… He enjoys sitting in the gym watching other people working out, telling Larry once that he gets ripped through osmosis. If that were the case, I don’t think he’d be nearly 400 lbs.
“Mr. Bobby!” Larry shouts, unable to hold in his excitement as finds his large friend sitting on a leg press machine, zero weight applied to the bar.. “Mr. Bobby, you will never believe it!”
“I don’t know Mary, I believe a lot of things…” Bobby says around a mouthful of cake.
“Yeah, well, can you believe that you are the #1 contender for the REAL Worlds Title?” Larry’s voice rises with every word, his excitement boiling over. “You did it Mr. Bobby, you have a title match against Vito Valentino!”
It takes a minute or two for the news to circulate, and all the while you can see the different emotions playing across his face. Hunger, bewilderment, disbelief, hunger, shock, anxiety, hunger, denial, and finally despair, mixed with hunger.
“Nooooooooooooo!” Bobby wails, dropping the plate of victorious cake. Don’t worry, the plate was made of paper, so it didn’t shatter. The same cannot be said of the now broken cake. Rest In Pieces.
“Why are they doing this to me!?” Bobby asks, rhetorically, while trying to extract himself from the contraption that has him folded up like a pretzel. “What did I ever do to deserve this!? Dang it Larry, get me outta this thing!”
Larry immediately rushes forward to help, but stops suddenly as he realizes Bobby used his given name. With the big man growling, Larry shakes his head to clear the cobwebs and rushes forward once more to grab Bobby’s offered hand.
“Ohhhhh no.” Bobby exclaims with an overly dramatic flair, he climbs to his feet and immediately begins limping. “What have you done to me Barry! You broke my ankle!”
Aghast Larry is on the verge of tears as he realizes he just cost his friend the biggest match of either man’s career. But as Bobby stumbles around the gym floor Larry notices Bobby can’t seem to keep track of which foot is injured, as he rotates which foot is limping.
“Uhm, Mr. Bobby?” Larry asks, pointing down as Bobby is once again mid limp, with the wrong foot.
“Shoot.” Bobby almost curses, as he bails on the limp. But suddenly he grabs his upper chest, and wails once more in agony. “Oooooooh, my ulcer! Jerry, my ulcer is back!”
“Mr. Bobby, ulcers aren’t in your chest…” Larry informs, confusion clear in his voice and on his face.
Bobby slowly reaches down to his forearm, while looking at Larry with a questioning look, as if he were asking “is it here?” To which Larry shakes his head in the negative. Bobby lowers his arm to his thighs, again looking to Larry for guidance. To yet another shake of his head, Bobby moves his hands ever so slowly to his groin.
“What’s going on?” Larry finally demands, anger creeping into his voice.
Bobby straightens up, scowling while crossing his massive arms over his massive mammaries. “Fine. I’m scared Larry. The last time I had a title shot of this caliber I was 250 pounds lighter and I could actually win a match based on skill. Vito is going to murder me! I should just go and turn in my two week notice now.”
“Two week notice? The match is in less than two weeks.” Larry says sheepishly.
“Nooooooooooo!” Bobby wails once more.
“I believe in you, Mr. Bobby.” Larry says with absolute confidence.
“[BEEEEEEEEP] you!” Bobby mutters as he pushes past Larry and heads towards the exit. The Bundt cake left and forgotten, much like his career will soon be.