M-M-M-MORE FEMALE GYMNASTS?!?!

Jul 27th 2011, 10:22 by E O Hatterpol | 1228 AU FROM SUN

"IT'S A juh-juh-juh-juh-GYMNASIUM, BRO?!?!" I sputtered.  "Un- uneven bars?!  Pommel huh-huh-huh-horses?!  Fluh- fluh- fluh- FLOOR EXERCISE?!?!"


"Get me outta here, salmon bro!  Get. me. OUTTA HERE!!"


"What's wrong?" Heartbreak asked.  He had a quizzical look on his face; he probably hadn't read my interview over at ObscureWriter.com back when the Starship Flybrary was still en route from the Makemake plutoid to Starbase Octopus, where I had SPECIFICALLY revealed my deepest fear: female gymnasts.


"Are you kidding me, broheem?  I'm terrified of female gymnasts!"


"What's wrong with female gymnasts?  They're well fit."


"That's just it," I explained.  "It's like they've traded puberty for superhuman strength, maaan!  It's like-- it's like watching 300-year-old wine walking around in a plastic bottle; the container just doesn't match what's inside.  That kind of juxtaposition -- it just gives me the heebie-jeebies, bro."


Heartbreak waved my fears away with a dismissive flick of his bulbous boxing gloves.


"Didn't you take that one down back at the Ragga Dancehall?  Ignore them.  They won't do anything to you; they're human beings, too, just like you.  Well, maybe not just like you.  You've got special powers, and you need to learn how to control them.  Try it now."


"R-- right now, man?" I said nervously, casting a backwards glance at the female gymnasts.


One of them was doing that creepy thing with her legs on the pommel horse where she smacks it over and over with her hands to stay on top while swinging her legs all around like a windmill.  I don't even know what you would call that; I try to stay away from that weirdo ish, if at all possible.  But she had that insane downward glance of concentration they all seem to wear when they're expending part of their unnatural brawn on some gymnastic feat.


I shuddered.


"NOW!" Heartbreak commanded.  


I whipped back around to find his jaw was stone and his eyebrows knots.  He seemed... I don't know, impatient, or angry, or something, I don't really know, because those female gymnasts were messing with my brain, man.


"Oh- umm, OK.  Ahem, bro!"


I widened my stance and pushed one leg back, digging it into the chalky floor for support.  I brought Discussions on All Manner of Subjects by Fartface Monks up in front of me and reworked my grip on its leather belt.  Then I stretched my broken beer bottle sword straight behind me and locked my elbow, tightening down on its neck.


Then I started charging up.


"wahm, wahm, Wahm, Wahm, WAHM, WAHM, WAHM! WAHM! WAHM! WAHM! WAHM--"


"keeeeee-YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"