The big bull-2

He nodded his head, kind of arrogantly.

Unsure of what else to say, I added, “Oh and um, nice pictures.”

“Oh yeah.” His voice rumbled. “You like ’em?”

“Sure.” I agreed, although I really didn’t care what kind of posters he had on his walls.

“Yeah I like ’em too; my temple of heroes. Look at this one, I met that guy at a convention last year,” as he pointed to a pro wrestling poster with an autograph across the bottom. It hung above his bed, so I stepped into the room to get a better look, I did start to get a little thrill at the collection of muscular athletes.

“I met this guy too,” he said as he pointed to another. “But I’ll show you the one I like best.” He squeezed by me, so that he was between me and the door. He then closed the door, revealing a poster of a world famous power lifter hanging on the back.

“This guy’s my favorite.” He gushed. “He’s bulked up to 400 pounds, fuckin’ huge and awesome.”