Ladies and Gentlemen, He's Ripped

"I used to be really ripped. You shoulda seen me five years ago."

"Oh yeah?" I ask.

"Yeah. Like a bodybuilder, dude."

"So what happened?"

"Well, you know," he says. "Life and shit. I was workin' a lot. Didn't have time to get to the gym as much."

"Yeah, well, I knew you five years ago, and I don't remember you being in all that good a shape."

"What are you, kidding?" he asks. "I was fuckin' shredded, man. Ask the guys from the gym."

"What guys? From what gym? Who the fuck am I gonna ask?"

"Bro, you shoulda seen me on my trip to Cancun. Ask anyone who went."

"I have no idea who went," I say. "Why do you keep telling me to ask all these vague people I don't even know?"

"What, you think I'm bullshittin' you?"

"Dude, all I'm saying is that I've known you for more than five years, and never, within that time span, have I ever seen you look any different than you look right now."

"Fuck that," he says. "Ask AM3.14928. He'll tell you."

"Oh right. Yes. That."

"What?"

"The cliff diving story," I reply.

"What cliff diving story?"

"In Cancun."

"What about it?" he asks. "I didn't do any cliff diving."

"That's not what I heard."

"Yeah? What'd you hear?"

"I heard," I say, "that you went cliff diving, but when you dove, your lat spread flared out so wide that you took flight, and glided out to sea, and they had to send a Mexican Coast Guard boat five miles offshore to pick you up."

"Fuck you, asshole."

"And you know, 'cause you were so shredded and all, and couldn't stay afloat, they almost didn't make it to you in time. Luckily, the salt water had a chemical reaction with the Synthrol, and your head swelled into a floatation device, thank God."

"Funny."

"Hey, while you were up in the air, did you manage to see whether your striations were aerodynamic or not?"

Ah, yes. Ripped in Cancun. Does it get any better than that?