smash_logs | PUT AWAY YOUR SHAKE WEIGHT. GET A REAL WORKOUT. BE A REAL MAN. OR WOMAN. GO LIFTING WITH MAX.

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PUT AWAY YOUR SHAKE WEIGHT. GET A REAL WORKOUT. BE A REAL MAN. OR WOMAN. GO LIFTING WITH MAX.

Who: Max and YOU and your intense feelings of inadequacy.
What: WORKING OUT IN THE WEIGHT ROOM
Where: THE WEIGHT ROOM
When: EVERY TIME August 8th - 21st
Warnings: 150% TESTOSTERONE. Max may swear at some point.

After spending two weeks as a venusaur, and not being able to work out, Max returned to his normal self. He could still feel the shameful, shameful potbelly that he used to have as a venusaur. Two weeks of not working out is like two weeks of wasted life for Max. And now he doesn't have all of those darned classes to take getting in the way of getting in a real workout. As if somehow six hours of weightlifting a day hadn't been a real workout before.

So anyway. Max is pretty much living in the weight room when he isn't doing his cardio in the mornings, having a meal, or sleeping. Or teaching the occasional class. But he's happy to take out some time to show new students around the weight room, or to help the less muscular set up some sort of workout routine. Need a spotter for the bench press? Max is your man. He may be wearing a tank top that says this on it.

((START A THREAD, GIVE A TIME, PUT ON YOUR HEADBANDS AND GYM SHORTS, AND TURN UP THE CLASSIC ROCK-SLASH-PUNK. YOU'RE IN MAX'S WORLD NOW.))

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Vinnie stood his ground and stared back, hands in his pockets.

"I know, sir."

"What the hell did Red have to go through to train you?" Max asked bluntly. "I met ivysaur you and you were worse."

"Red never met me as a Bulbasaur. And he found me before I got that bad.

"But he didn't catch me. I made the decision to follow him and I'll see it through." As an afterthought, he added, "Sir."

Edited 2011-08-14 23:53 (UTC)

"Well I'm gonna have to give him a medal because evidently he's either a saint or the greatest pokemon trainer in the world, because after a week of dealin' with bulbasaur you I wanted to pull my hair out," Max said sternly.

"Now I know how my mom felt," he mumbled.

"He is the greatest Pokemon trainer in the world," Vinnie told him. Also, Red was the manliest man. The man of mans. Never forget this.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, adding, "But I didn't have any right callin' you a bad Venusaur, and I'm sorry 'bout that."

"Yeah yeah, I know, and if you asked Char he'd tell you it was Green," said Max. Never forget that, either, Vinnie. And by that I mean... that... Char exists and disagrees with you.

"Thank you for your apology," said Max. "It was hard for me to be a venusaur 'cause I'd never been one before but then I suddenly had bulbasaurs dumped in my lap and the guy supposed to be teachin' me how to be a venusaur disappeared after the first day and didn't tell me where he went or nothin'." That guy was you, Vinnie.

LOOK, AN ADMISSION BY MAX THAT HE HAS STRUGGLES. THIS IS ALMOST LIKE AN APOLOGY. Only not at really.

Alas that Char's existence was a sad truth that Vinnie has had to bear for many years. At this he shrugged. "A rival's not worth having if he can't keep up."

That apology was so indirect that it was practically nonexistent, Max.

"If I came near you after the first day, I would've burned you and the whole forest down by accident. I don't think either've us wanted that."

"You coulda at least yelled at me from a distance or somethin' to let me know what happened to you. 'HEY MAX ITS VINNIE I FELL INTO A POOL I AM A FIRE TYPE NOW DON'T GET CLOSE I CAN'T CONTROL IT' somethin' like that," said Max.

"I was at the beach all the time. On my stomach. Tryin' to get enough sun."

Max, the Jewish mother, everyone.

Okay, now you were just nitpicking. Vinnie crossed his arms, giving Max a flat look. "Never saw you on my stretch of beach," he deadpanned.

"I could barely move half the time cuz I almost starved to death being a vegan carnivore. Does this really matter right now?"

Yes, it matters greatly right now. Everything matters. It's Max.

"Yeah, it does. Survival skills matter. Responsibility matters. If you'd gone lookin' to tell somebody where you were before you half starved to death you coulda been a bulbasaur days before you ended up bein' one or, at the very least, somebody coulda got you a bunch of tofu or peanut butter or hummus or whatever and got you some vegetable protein. You work as a guy on a team when you're on Red's squad, and you work as a team member when you're on one of mine. You knew people were fallin' into things and turnin' into stuff and wasn't nothin' to be ashamed of. It matters 'cause it shows poor judgement."

You know things are bad when Max is complaining about your thought process.

Of course Max wasn't wrong. If Vinnie had been in the right state of mind, he probably would've at least tried to get ahold of someone, through Bulba or such. But something stopped him every time.

"Red an' you didn't recruit a Ninetales, sir. If you got a taste for Venusaur instincts, then you need t'know I couldn't ask for help even when I wanted to. If you worded things wrong, I don't think I could've even gone t'the Bulbasaur pool with you. They've got too much pride t'rely on anyone. That's who I turned into."

"Then you were a idiot for a week," said Max. "And I think I'd rather work with bulbasaur you than you as a ninetail whatever. That probably makes me an idiot, too, but there you are."

Anyway.

"Anyway. Sorry about ridin' your ass about everything." AN APOLOGY????? "Even though you needed it." Oh right okay. Thank goodness.

"Trust me, I know."

That was probably the closest he'd ever come to getting a compliment and an apology from Max, actually. The fact that they were nearly in the same breath, well, he'd have to mark it on his calender. Despite himself, Vinnie snorted and gave a glimmer of a smirk.

"I wouldn't let you boss me around if I didn't think it did me any good." Vinnie gave a loose salute in Max's direction. "Sir."

"Good to hear, soldier," said Max, warmly.

"Now you've got two weeks worth of workouts to make up for," Max said, yet more warmly. "You're two weeks behind. So you're gonna spend two hours in here with me every day until you're caught up. And maybe by then you'll come to like it so much you won't wanna go back to just an hour a day."

Yeah, Vinnie. It'll be so much fun.

Oh... boy. The grim expression came back and his shoulders slumped. Had he just welcomed this fresh hell?

No, this was just another challenge to make him stronger. He'd spent enough time running around without a care as a Bulbasaur - it was time to man up and train. Vinnie grit his teeth and rolled his t-shirt sleeves over his shoulders.

"We'll see. Let's get on with it then."

"You should probably get some tank tops," said Max. "You'd get more sun durin' 6am runs and they show off your guns better in the gym."

Wow, Max, how thoughtful of you. I guess.

Vinnie stared at Max for a second, mid-sleeve roll. He looked at Max. All of Max. He looked at Max's tank top. He looked at the line of text that declared him by virtue of his garb, a 'Flexpert.'

The Venusaur's eyes narrowed slightly. Max, were you trying to shape him in your image?

"Do I have to...?"

That tank top only tells the truth, Vinnie. Truth and verity. Max was, indeed, a flexpert.

And yes, he was. It's what he does with everyone he knows and likes.

"Do you like being a sleepy, tired ass every morning or would you rather get some sunshine in on your shoulders and arms?" Max asked.

Indeed, tank tops have never been known to spread falsehood.

Also, Max that was a little disturbing. Especially since they were already a little too similar in their teenage temperment than he would've liked.

"I'd like t'get sun on my back, but you don't let me," he pointed out.

But he couldn't deny that some extra sunshine would be nice. Sigh. "...I'm gonna be paying for these goddamn shirts myself, aren't I."

Edited 2011-08-15 03:28 (UTC)

This is the reason why you should be more like Max. You have so much potential. To be the greatest guy.

"That's because regulations say you gotta wear a shirt," said Max. "And I follow regulations."

"But tank tops count as shirts in my book. And yeah, you're payin' for 'em."

Edited 2011-08-15 03:32 (UTC)

You realize that Vinnie's ambitions in life basically add up to 'being a dirty forest hippie,' right Max?

There was a little debate going on between Vinnie's love for delicious sunlight and his need to save as much money as possible to not be indebted to Max anymore. It was a tough choice, considering how sunlight would make being indebted to Max somewhat easier. A little solar power went a long way.

"Maybe one or two," he allowed at last, hoping it would satisfy Max.

TIME FOR A NEW LIFE AMBITION. YOUR NEW AMBITION IS FOR 25 INCH BICEPS. THEN YOU CAN PUNCH FORESTS INTO BEING.

"Alright, I'll take you to the mall so you can get some sometime when you're free," said Max.

"You ain't free right now."

He reached down into his dufflebag, and tossed about 30 pages held together by some overworked staples at Vinnie.

"That's your liftin' routine for the next two weeks, down to ten minute slots of time and exactly what you should be liftin', how much, and how many sets. I feel it's reasonable."

If you are a musclehead like Max. It is reasonable.

I GUESS PUNCHING FORESTS TO LIFE WOULD BE PRETTY COOL...

Vinnie caught the workout guide with both hands and proceeded to flip through the first few pages. Monday, it seemed, was bicep day. Every type of curl and press imaginable, with the weights increasing every 10 reps.

It was hard to suppress the grimace now. Fucking hell. Well, if nothing else, Vinnie had ~~an increased stat in~~ physical endurance. He grabbed his water bottle and bag, with bench press at the top of the list.

"Hngh. You gonna spot me?"

Monday is also chest and forearms and abs, Vinnie. Really, abs is every-other day. But there are other things in there, too. The bench press is for your chest anyway. Silly Vinnie.

"Yeah, gonna have to, ain't I? You're gonna need it by the third set of your bench."

Okay, every day was every muscle. Max was every muscle. Muscle muscle muscle.

Another deep sigh. "Great," muttered Vinnie.

~~Then he fell to Max's feet, sobbing impotently.~~

NO, THAT BEGAN WHEN YOU FIRST DECIDED TO APP.

tank-rockarms.livejournal.com - 2011-08-15 04:39 (UTC) - Expand

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PUT AWAY YOUR SHAKE WEIGHT. GET A REAL WORKOUT. BE A REAL MAN. OR WOMAN. GO LIFTING WITH MAX.

;-;

KEEP CRYING

;__;

Yessssss, your tears give me power.

T___T there, take all of them

NOW WITH ALL OF MY POWERS AT THEIR APEX... PRODUCE FOR ME... -BABIES-

no.

but why not

they have also turned to tears.

TRANSLATE THEM BACK INTO BABIES

TOO LATE IMPOSSIBLE

IT'S NEVER TOO LATE WHEN YOU HAVE................ BICEPS

I HAVE EXACTLY ZERO OF THOSE

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v225/gillikin/SBG/theniwilllendyousome.png

alsdkgakdjasdgadkf

Now that there is no impediment, you may begin.

joy of joys

Light of life

Bi of ceps

Pec of Torals

Del of the honourable house of Toids

Lord Ab, earl of Dominals

Baron von Pec

We already did pecs, Toni. You're losing it. But have a pecs icon anyway.

I FEEL MADNESS SETTING IN

NO, THAT BEGAN WHEN YOU FIRST DECIDED TO APP.