Supplemental Desperation

Above Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, snug cozily in the Bitterroot Range of the Rocky Mountains, sits a Gold’s Gym the size of the Pentagon. Built in 2015 on the grounds of the Silver Mountain Resort, it is state of the art fitness nirvana. Locals consider trekking up the mountain to work out a spiritual undertaking, akin to visiting a Tibetan Buddhist temple.

Below the mountain, in downtown Coeur d’ Alene on the waterfront, trouble was percolating. A press conference was about to start, called by the sheriff’s office to address a crime of the most heinous nature.

It seemed as if the entire town had gathered on the boardwalk, just overlooking the pristine beach and peacock-blue water. It was difficult, with any public assembly on this spot, to concentrate on anything but the tranquility glistening in the warm sunlight, and the elegant, green mountains surrounding it.

Hopefully this backdrop will help alleviate the shock, thought Sheriff Brahman as he hobbled toward the podium, his large biceps looking as if they were about to bust open his short-sleeved shirt and make a run for it. At 35, he was the youngest sheriff in the town’s history. He wore really bitchin’ Ray-Ban’s to potentially hide embarrassing eye-moisture, should he get emotional while delivering the horrible news.

Although the baddest bad-ass on the force, the sheriff hadn’t been able to hit Gold’s the past few weeks due to an injury he suffered in an altercation with a fellow Gold’s member. Brahman was in the midst of performing a super-set of triceps exercises requiring various dumbbell weights. When a pair of his dumbbells went missing, he angrily sought to pummel the head of the dumbbell taking them. Two hours later (like I said, this Gold’s is a huge place), he found the dumbbells and the thief, hands wrapped tightly around the evidence. A creatine-fueled argument ensued, ending not with the thief’s head getting pummeled, but with the thief dropping two 30-pound dumbbells on Brahman’s feet.

The crowd of reporters waited patiently; the more developed physiques got preferential seating close to the podium, and were allowed to ask questions. The reporters  who had allowed their bodies go to hell stood in the back, and kept quiet. The only way out of this endless cycle for the ‘sculpture-deficient’, to finally elevate themselves to a legitimate question-asking reporter seated in the front, was in the next life, to be born into a family of bodybuilders.

No one had a clue as to what the breaking news could be. They only knew that there was breaking news. This very sleepy town, so sleepy at times it could barely keep its eyes open, was ranked by Wanderlust magazine as the nation’s #3 easiest tourist town to hypnotize. So, whenever there was breaking news, it meant something was broken to such a degree it would require a monumental effort by the townspeople to fix the breakage.

Sheriff Brahman cleared his throat, then tightened his pecs upon hearing camera clicks. His chest had softened a bit since he’d been out of the gym, and he wanted to reassure everyone they had nothing to fear.

“This town isn’t used to bad news, so I’m not going to sugarcoat what’s happened. At approximately 11:23 last night, just over 17,000 dollars worth of nutritional supplements was stolen from Gold’s Gym.”

A collective gasp ensued,  so prolonged it left many wheezing for air.

“The suspect pretty much cleaned the place out,” the sheriff added through hysterical blabbing. “As far as we can tell, only the counter receptionist was in the area. She is, however, an eye-witness.”

“Who is the bastard?” the assembled cried in unison.

“Well, we don’t know.” Sheriff Brahman unfolded a piece of paper. “I will now read a description from our eye-witness. ‘The suspect is a young white male. How young I don’t know, because he wore a ski mask. He was shirtless, which indicates he possibly had just finished a work out. There are no visible tattoos. His shoulders are well-defined, with impressive striations running the length of his mid delts. His traps have been well-attended to, almost to a fault, and look like pavers attached to the sides of his neck. He could stand to ease up on them, or they might dominate his over-all superb build. His biceps are simply a thing of beauty. The fullness and bulk of these muscles indicates  a seasoned pro taking great care to utilize control, at least three seconds on the eccentric portion of the movement, with full range of motion. His chest…'” He paused, his voice cracking. Quickly, he regained his composure. “‘His chest is his best body part. Because of his massive major pectorals, he obviously uses the incline bench press as his main chest exercise. Nothing noticeable stood out concerning the triceps. Good size, complements other body parts, but nothing spectacular. And for the record,  he was well-ripped, under 10% body fat, so apparently he’s close to a competition.'” The sheriff folded the paper as he examined the shocked faces. “We’re dealing with one seriously jacked dude here people! Your help in apprehending the person fitting this description is greatly appreciated. As far as the stolen supplements, it’ll be at least a week or more before a shipment comes. I hope and pray the citizens of Coeur d’ Alene are properly well-stocked to get through this crisis. Now, I will answer any questions you may have.”

“That description fits half the town!” a reporter yelled.

“That’s all the information I have to give you now.”

“Then how do you propose to find him?” a different reporter yelped.

Sheriff Brahman sighed. “With a strong sense of intuition?”

“Can you talk about his leg development?” another reporter screamed.

“The suspect wore sweat pants, so no.”

“Did the suspect have a spotter?” another bellowed.

“If by spotter you mean an accomplice, none was spotted.”

“Do you recommend we get torches and hunt him down tonight?” another barked.

“No, I do not.”

“If someone is out of supplements, should they call 911?” another shrieked.

“I don’t want anyone doing that!” Brahman noticed a solemn reporter, who had traversed his personal roller coaster of emotions from panic to despair. “Hal? You’ve got to persevere! Come on now! You’ve got this!”

“I just can’t buy supermarket supplements, sheriff,” Hal said with a desperate shrug. “It’s like pissing your money down the toilet!”

The sheriff raised both palms, as if about to heal the town of its anxiety.”That’s not going to happen. Listen, if you know your supplements won’t last for a week, or maybe a little longer, seek out a friend or family member who may have a surplus. And if anyone has a surplus, we’re going to start a supplement bank at Gold’s for the needy.  We are operating on the honor system as of right now, folks. We are good people, well-built to withstand this heavy load. I truly believe we are the strongest people in America. Let’s act like it!”

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