Brothers,
The following is a true story.
Will the injustices ever end? Case in point-
A week ago, my good friend and sometimes training partner Marvin showed up at the gym looking a tad dishearted. Seems he had been fired from his job at a Shell gas station for attacking a customer. Marvin has Down's Syndrome, and even that fact didn't earn him an ounce of compassion from his boss. Nobby went to have a word with him, and once Marvin's boss comes out of his coma, he will surely hire him back!
Well, brothers, I decided to do the Christian thing- I decided to make Marvin my assistant steroid distributor! I gave him a tub of dbol, and told him to see what he could sell, as long as he was prepared to cut me in for 98 percent of sales.
Marvin came back hours later, with the tub empty! I gave him another, and off he went. What on earth was the secret of his success? A few days later, while being driven past an elementary school on lunch recess, I soon found out!
There was Marvin, the tub of dbol hung by a string around his neck, the top gone, and sporting a baseball cap with a piece of paper glued across the front reading "DBOL for SALE". He was ringing a bell in one hand, and crying (he has bit of a lisp) "Dbolths....DEE-BAAWWWLTHS....for sthale!....five fur a pound....DEEEE-BOOOOLLTHSSS!" he hollered, so loud it echoed across the entire schoolyard. "Get big...get STWONG...get yer DBOLTHS!!"
A crowd of enthusiastic kids, around 11 or 12, surrounded Marvin and in a matter of seconds he'd sold the entire tub! I rolled down the window of the Rolls and yelled out "Jolly good show, Marvin!"
Nobby offered his support - "WELL FOOKIN DONE!" he roared. I sat back, smiling, and a warm feeling came over me, much like that the Grinch experienced before returning to Whoville to spread Christmas joy. Marvin was no longer the marginalized, retarded man sweeping the grounds at a service station- he was a proficient salesman!
The evening news featured a report on schoolchildren using steroids. They even had shots of the school Marvin had been at, along with reports that a burly mongoloid man was selling gear to kids!
Typical hype. I headed out to deliver a sizable amount of steroids to Marvin to sell for me.
Well, I swung by the school the next day, to see how Marvin would fare- this time, he was wearing a tray, sort of like a hot-dog vendor at a baseball game wears, and it was stocked with dbol, drol, cheque drops, fina pellets....a smorsgasborg of gear! He'd just started ringing his bell when several police cars pulled into the schoolyard, and about 20 police officers rushed him, billy clubs drawn, and literally swarmed all over him, clubs swinging!
Once Marvin gets out of intensive care, he faces various charges....this is ridiculous...I mean, charging a developmentally challenged person for trying to make a bit extra- for the LOVE OF GOD, what is wrong with people these days?!!
The following is a true story.
Will the injustices ever end? Case in point-
A week ago, my good friend and sometimes training partner Marvin showed up at the gym looking a tad dishearted. Seems he had been fired from his job at a Shell gas station for attacking a customer. Marvin has Down's Syndrome, and even that fact didn't earn him an ounce of compassion from his boss. Nobby went to have a word with him, and once Marvin's boss comes out of his coma, he will surely hire him back!
Well, brothers, I decided to do the Christian thing- I decided to make Marvin my assistant steroid distributor! I gave him a tub of dbol, and told him to see what he could sell, as long as he was prepared to cut me in for 98 percent of sales.
Marvin came back hours later, with the tub empty! I gave him another, and off he went. What on earth was the secret of his success? A few days later, while being driven past an elementary school on lunch recess, I soon found out!
There was Marvin, the tub of dbol hung by a string around his neck, the top gone, and sporting a baseball cap with a piece of paper glued across the front reading "DBOL for SALE". He was ringing a bell in one hand, and crying (he has bit of a lisp) "Dbolths....DEE-BAAWWWLTHS....for sthale!....five fur a pound....DEEEE-BOOOOLLTHSSS!" he hollered, so loud it echoed across the entire schoolyard. "Get big...get STWONG...get yer DBOLTHS!!"
A crowd of enthusiastic kids, around 11 or 12, surrounded Marvin and in a matter of seconds he'd sold the entire tub! I rolled down the window of the Rolls and yelled out "Jolly good show, Marvin!"
Nobby offered his support - "WELL FOOKIN DONE!" he roared. I sat back, smiling, and a warm feeling came over me, much like that the Grinch experienced before returning to Whoville to spread Christmas joy. Marvin was no longer the marginalized, retarded man sweeping the grounds at a service station- he was a proficient salesman!
The evening news featured a report on schoolchildren using steroids. They even had shots of the school Marvin had been at, along with reports that a burly mongoloid man was selling gear to kids!
Typical hype. I headed out to deliver a sizable amount of steroids to Marvin to sell for me.
Well, I swung by the school the next day, to see how Marvin would fare- this time, he was wearing a tray, sort of like a hot-dog vendor at a baseball game wears, and it was stocked with dbol, drol, cheque drops, fina pellets....a smorsgasborg of gear! He'd just started ringing his bell when several police cars pulled into the schoolyard, and about 20 police officers rushed him, billy clubs drawn, and literally swarmed all over him, clubs swinging!
Once Marvin gets out of intensive care, he faces various charges....this is ridiculous...I mean, charging a developmentally challenged person for trying to make a bit extra- for the LOVE OF GOD, what is wrong with people these days?!!
Last edited Jan 14, 2009 07:15:06
