Me and the Old Man



Ron and Todd stood on opposite side's of the counter at the gym. Word spread quickly that there was going to be an armwrestling match, and guys began to gather to watch Todd take down his challenger. Todd hadn't lost a match in over two years now, so no one ever called him on it anymore, outside of tournaments, or very drunken dudes at a bar. It had been awhile since I'd seen Todd take on someone big as Ron, but he had a technique he used to take down even the biggest men. He said it was called the roll-over, and once he had it going, it would take a genetic freak to power out of it. I have to admit though,

I got a little uneasy as I watched the two of them link up hands. Ron's hands were large, and his fingers were thick...twice as thick as Todd's. Todd didn't seemed phased by it at all, though, as he stared back at Ron with that cocky grin on his face. The muscles of their forearms flexed and rolled as they

locked up. The gym manager put his hands over theirs and counted.."One....two....three....GO!" And they went. Everyone at the gym was gathered around now to watch, and most of us were surprised when Todd didn't take the old man down in a second flat. But Todd did take the advantage, pushing Ron's hand slightly in his favor. I saw Todd buck forward enough to add his tremendous shoulder strength to his push. As long as his elbow stayed down, he could lean into Ron's arm as far as he wanted. A couple dudes started yelling out Todd's name, cheering him on, ready to see him crush. But at the point where Todd usually forced a man's arm to buckle down from the pressure, I saw his progress halt. Todd was pushing with all his might, veins popping out of his forehead. I saw him look up at Ron. Ron leaned in toward Todd's ear. "Don't tell me that's all you got," Ron said. I was close enough to see Ron's grip tighten, and Todd's knuckles whiten from the pressure. Ron slowly pushed their arms back up into the starting position. I heard a couple guys behind me go "fuck", and "holy shit". Ron's arm muscles were swelling huge from

the strain, but what I really noticed was the size of his shoulder. Ron's huge delt cap made my training partner's look like a kid's. For a brief second,

I saw a hint of doubt in Todd's eyes, but then Ron said, "Show me everything you got, boy," and Todd focussed again. He almost grinned thru his twisted face, apparently getting a rush from coming up against a real challenge. He grunted like a bull and leaned in farther. The two big men were now nose to nose, glaring at each other. The room stank of testosterone sweat. Some of the guys behind me were now yelling for Ron. A handful of dudes were standing on benches to get a better look. Then it began to happen. Ron slowly began to inch Todd down. Although his rippling arm seemed to be straining just as much as Todd's, he also appeared to be in total control, moving Todd's hand in a smooth and steady motion toward the countertop. Todd, his face redder than I'd ever seen it, turned to the side and squinted his eyes hard, tapping into every

reserve of strength that he could. But he couldn't slow Ron's progress. Everyone in the room was screaming and yelling and whooping. Then Ron took Todd's hand down, tapping it to the countertop almost softly, mercifully, ending

the match. The crowd went nuts. The old dude had taken Todd down like a fuckin warm-up. I was pretty sure that a couple guys had creamed themselves watching happen, as they hobbled off to the lockerroom. The two fighters broke their hold and stood upright. Todd looked at Ron with awe, sweat streaming down his face. He rubbed his sore arm almost absentmindedly, then he put it out to shake hands. Ron shook with him, then leaned over and, hugging him with his other arm, pulled him right over the counter. Both of them were hugging and patting each other like old buddies. I couldn't take it anymore. "Dude, you A-hole," I said to Todd. They both looked at me sort of stunned. "You put me up as your bet and then you fucking lose? Goddam pussy. Fuck man, losing to an old dude like this? You shithead!" "What the fuck's your problem, man?" asked Todd. "My problem is, you were supposed to fucking win, but you didn't. Now I gotta show this old coot how to pose and prep for a contest? You think I got time for that shit?" "Get the fuck over yourself, dickhead," said Todd, getting in my face. "This old dude is a cool fucking guy, and if you got anything to say about it, I'll kick your fuckin ass." "How you gonna do that, bro, you gonna send your little sister after me?" "Hold on there, guys," said Ron, stepping inbetween us. "Don't get into blows on my account. You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Anthony." I'd gotten raging mad, but it drained out of me fast at that point. I realized the whole gym was staring at me like I was a total asshole. "Fuck," I said, stepping back. I could tell Todd was glad to step down from the confrontation too. "Besides," said Ron. "It's no big deal. I'd never win any muscle contest anyway." "What are you talking about?" said Todd. "Dude, you are huge and jacked up as anyone I ever saw." Everyone was staring at Ron, thinking the same thing. "Yeh, but I've got something wrong with my arm muscles," he said. His right arm, the one he'd just beaten Todd with, was insanely engorged, like someone had taken a tire pump to it. "Flex your arm, Anthony," he said to me. I

raised my arm and flexed it, crunching up my 20"er. "See how smooth and rounded

your arm is?" he said. "Now, look at mine," and he raised up his arm and flexed it hard. The huge muscle bunched up like a chiselled diamond, and peaked

like a mutherfucker. "See how craggy it is? And look at that deep line running down the middle." Everyone stared in awe at the pronounced biceps split he had in his upper arm. The front cep was big on its own, but then the back cep rose up behind it and capped it off to perfection. They had to be 24"ers. "And watch this," he said, picking a penny up off the counter and sticking it into the split. The penny stuck about halfway down into the muscle. Ron let go of the penny, and slowly twisted his hand at the wrist and squeezed his arm tighter. The penny nearly disappeared in his split. Then he stopped and pulled the penny out, tossing it onto the countertop. It was so bent and flattened, it looked like it had been run over by a train. Two more dudes behind me blew in their shorts, and waddled out of the room. "Bro," said Todd. "It's bad, right?" asked Ron. "Although, I'm still gonna do the contest, even though I can't win with these freak arms, but I finally managed to get an 8-ball going." "An 8-ball?" said Todd. "Yeah, look," and with that Ron lifted up his sleeveless tee and exposed his abs. He tightened them up, and a rocksolid stack of four pairs of abs popped out, thick and dense. "Jeezus," said Todd. "And I finally got that rope pose down too," he said. "Rope pose?" I asked. "Yeah, you know the one, I saw it in some old muscle mags." With that, he sucked in his abs, forming a deep cavity of muscle, making his waist appear super narrow below his massive chest. Then he slowly forced out the middle section, creating a narrow, jutting column of pure 8-pack ab muscle.

"Holy mother of god," said the gym manager, "look at that muscle control." "Not bad, huh?" said Ron, beaming, rolling his abs up and down, winking at me as he did. "You still sure you don't wanna train that shit?" Todd said to me. How could I turn it down? Except that the old man might end up being the one doing the training. •

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