I'm sooooo sorry I scared you when you came to visit. Guess your eyes couldn't believe the 0% bodyfat demon your grandfather has turned into on this 365 regimen of brutalizing pyramids, neck crunches, trap rolls and mega kilo arm burners. Welcome to the throne room of my palace of flesh, Danny.
I spent thirty years raising kids like your ungrateful father who can't even look me in the eye - who won't even lavish ten seconds of attention on these high velocity guns I'm packing - I DESERVE this, Danny. You know who looked at me yesterday? A Burger King girl. She looked at me and I know what she was thinking. If I had a phone book I would have torn it up then and there and carried her out of there on my shoulder to sit on a throne in the palace and watch this pump routine go DOWN.
I'm a beast, physically, mentally and now sensually. I'm ready to prove it.
So the next time you feel like crying because WHERE'S GRANDPA well sorry, Danny, he's dead. This magnificent Hulked out stud killed him and he's not coming back.
If you are 35 and you are not integrated into the Gigathrax then you are not ready to retire.
While designing this space, I imagined David Fincher being forced to recreate the music video for Nine Inch Nails' Closer in a haunted gas station bathroom.
My game is funded. Now I know everything.
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