By Tony Peroni and Vinny Cooper
You’ve heard it all before. It’s the first day of the new year — hell, the new decade. You awaken from your deep slumber with a pounding headache and a low degree fever and look at the clock. Great. It’s 2:00 in the afternoon. As you roll out of bed, you acknowledge your disgusting and misshapen body in the mirror. Triumphantly patting your beer belly, you grin from ear to ear, give yourself a quick nod and exclaim, “New year, new me!”
While the celebratory phrase is meant to inspire an air of self-improvement, the new year’s resolution is often forgotten about by early February.
While students return to campus, the Fitness Center has seen a steady increase of temporary patrons.
“Business is booming!” yells Frankie Fitness, owner of the Fitness Center. Frankie is so satisfied right now. As he curls his customized 60 pound dumbbell and rubs his meaty fricken bicep, he looks me in the eye, a solitary tear running down his cheek. “I just hope they don’t leave this time.”
“I really think I can keep it up this time around,” claims Miller McIntyre, a junior computer science major who is uncontrollably panting and chugging water from the Fitness Center fountain. “I’ve jogged the loop like three times since I moved back to Ewing. My bod is gonna look absolutely insane.”
While Fitness Center newcomers enjoy the facility, some of the institution’s regular customers have had qualms with the uptick in business.
“My new year’s resolution was to call my Mom more… Now all these bozos are jacking my iron!” grunted Brent Durgles, a senior finance major.
“This gym is way too packed,” said Rider Student Cary Johnson. “It’s almost not worth sneaking into anymore. I’m considering going back to the Rider Gym.”
“I breathe fitness. I am fitness. I eat whey protein powder. Straight up. No milk. I do 400 pushups. And after that, I do 400 situps. And then I run the loop. Sometimes I look at the ducks in lake Sylva and reflect on the duality of life and the bonds that stop mankind from reaching its true potential. Then I go to the Fitness Center and bench a random amount between the numbers of 100-600. Since the start of the new year, the bench has consistently been occupied, and my routine has been tampered with. I am disappointed, to say the least,” clamored Keith Fish, a freshman health and exercise science major.
When asked whether the Fitness Center newcomers were of any concern to management, Frankie Fitness, who is now doing a one-handed plank and rubbing his tummy, looked up at me, sweat beading on his bald ass Mr. Clean lookin’ ass forehead.
“Everyone has a right to self-improvement and to lead a healthy lifestyle,” he said. “I have no concern about the uptick in Fitness Center attendance.”
Frankie breaks his planking position, standing an astounding 7ft tall. He begins to sob uncontrollably.
“But they’re just gonna leave! They don’t wanna Fit with Frankie. No one wants to learn my secret to 8-pack abs, or how to get the weird lookin’ blue veins in your legs!”
Frankie has declined further comment on the issue.
It’s a new year, and with every new year, there’s a chance for self-improvement. But reader, be warned — if you pump even the smallest bit of iron, you are at risk of making a grown man spiral out of control and into a sobbing mess.
Disclaimer: This is obviously a satirical piece and does not reflect a real event.