The Human Zoo - Mr Crossfit

Craig awakes to Uptown Funk blaring from his phone: the song of a fucking champion. He proudly struts around his room like Viagra-induced erection on the set of a gay porno. He slides into his Under Armour top, Skins tights and brand-spankin' ASIC Gels: the official get up of the Jacob's Ladder leerer.

Craig walks into the gym with one fist in the air. The champ is here you soft-bodied dick-munchers. He swans through the group dolling out unsolicited motivational zingers. “Lets see you push through the Filthy 50 today, Bruce, Jenny, your wedding is in 3 weeks, lets pump up it to the max girl, ohhhhh J-Man in the house, whattup dog, you are looking straight jacked”. Calm down Craig, you fucking goose you are as genuine as a Thai sex tourist’s Rolex.

Craig conducts his workout with the kind of intensity you see in Lleyton Hewitt’s eye as he eagerly penetrates himself with an Aussie Open trophy while watching his career highlights reel. The instructor has lost all control over Craig and is powerless to stop him from forcing some beta-male to record a video of him lifting a dumbbell over his head. He uploads the video immediately, “This is how it’s done bitches #CrossFit #Inspire #Fitness #Mirin?”

In an act of unfathomable weak cuntery, Jenny quits halfway through a set of burpees. Craig starts foaming at the mouth, he walks up to Jenny and inspires her, “I guess you don’t want your fucking wedding dress to fit Jenny, FUCK”, Craig turns around and punches a door. He puts his hand up in the air, as to alert the group that he needs a moment to compose himself. These fitness jellyfish aren't worthy to train with the champ.

After his workout Craig storms out and power-douches into a nearby petrol station. He approaches the drinks fridge and sees a flabby soft-bodied pleb eyeing off a Powerade and is overcome by his own inspired greatness, “ah, maybe stick to the water if you’re not training ay pal”. Go fuck yourself Craig.