The scene is Gold’s Gym. The floor is suspiciously empty except for a crowd around the weight rack. Bros clad in gym tees with cut off sleeves and basketball shorts, caps turned backwards, and chicks in neon lycra and leg warmers all surrounding one man with a barbell across his shoulders. On each side are four hundred-pound iron discs. He is going for it all. The crowd around him chants in unison.
CROWD: CHICK CHICK CHICK CHICK
The MASSIVE figure in the center lets out a snort like a bull in the stadium ready to gore an unsuspecting matador. His eyes widen. His but clenches. He lets out a primal scream before his quivering mass of sinew and muscle begin to rise slowly. His eyes begin to bulge with each micron his legs move to bring him to an upright position. However, he presses on, spittle bubbling out of his mouth. His head shakes as if he was going to go into a seizure. But, with one final stroke, he pushes to his feet with the 800 lbs. of weight on his shoulders. The crowd around him ROARS as if he were Emmitt Smith punching the ball into the end zone for the winning touchdown. The man begins a low, guttural scream as he grabs the bar and throws it in front of him. The people before him scatter as the weights put cracks and dents in the floor.
Guy in crowd: LET’S HEAR IT FOR CHICK GRILLBREAST, BRO!
The newly identified lunk starts slapping hands of the bros and the asses of the women. Making his way through the throng is BILLY FIELDS, Classic Wrestling’s ON THE SPOT REPORTER, with microphone in hand, trying to get a word with the promotion’s newest superstar.
Billy: Chick! Chick! I’m Billy Fields with Classic Wrestling! That was an unbelievable feat of strength we just saw!
Chick: turning his head with QUICKNESS Unbelievable? UNBELIEVABLE? ARE YOU SAYING YOU DIDN’T THINK I COULD DO THAT?
Billy: Uh no, I’m just…
Chick: ARE YOU SAYING THAT I DON’T HAVE ENOUGH MUSCLES? OR THAT YOU THINK I CHEATED TO GET THESE MUSCLES? HUH? HUH?
The muscles on Chick’s back are rippling so much that they threaten to pop all the back pimples collected on his lats and delts.
Billy: NO! I swear! That’s just a turn of a phrase!
Chick: OH so now you admit you’re A LIAR? YOU KNOW WHAT MAKES ME MADDER THAN LIARS? NOTHING!
Chick in one fell swoop swings around and punches a hole through the gym wall.
Chick: GIMME THAT MICROPHONE BEFORE I WRING YOUR PENCIL NECK, YOU GEEK.
Billy, with the fear of every god in every pantheon in him, throws the microphone to Chick Grillbreast and high-tails it out of the Gold’s Gym.
Chick: Alright, you PUNKS. Listen and listen GOOD. My name is Chick Grillbreast, and I am here in Classic Wrestling to do one thing and one thing only… TO SHOW ALL YOU WEIRDOS AND GEEKS THAT NATURAL MUSCLE MASS IS THE STRONGEST SUBSTANCE IN THE KNOWN UNIVERSE, UHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!
Chick throws his head back and rips his shirt in half, showing unnaturally defined musculature of unusual size redder than the first apples of the season.
Chick: YOU SEE THIS BODY? This is what CHICKEN BREAST, PROTEIN POWDER, AND EIGHT DAYS A WEEK IN THE GYM GET YOU. It is ALL NATURAL. Do you think I’m a liar? DO YOU? WOULD A LIAR DO THIS?
Inexplicably, Chick picks up a phonebook that is sitting randomly in the weight area, opens it to the midpoint, and tears it in half at the spine.
Chick: I make my debut against a CREEP named Fenderbender Jones. FENDERBENDER, listen up and LISTEN GOOD. When I, Chick Grillbreast, am done with you, you are gonna be TOTALED. FEEL THE POWER OF ALL-NATURAL MUSCLE, BABY, YEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!
The crowd that was cheering him on doing his squat starts chanting his name once again as the camera fades to the Classic Wrestling logo.