What’s going on here, Bobby. Walk me through it.

“Oh, you can’t walk through it. The machine’s solid.”

It was a euphemism.

“Ah. So, uh, this here is a piece of apparatus meant to stimulate your latissimus mueslix. People don’t know this, but every muscle has a foreign name. They’re not just your hammies.”

I think people know that.

“The trick is to not get too swole. I got a tendency to slap on the muscle, and then I look like Lou Ferrigno. Not great for the act. I got a hippie crowd, they’re not about that.”

Sure.

“That’s my one true regret. That I didn’t get jacked.”

Really?

“Sure. In, like, the 80’s. Made friend with some of the guys sitting on Muscle Bench. Got some of those crazy pills and salves and whatnot. Bought one of those belts. You know the belt?”

I know the belt.

“Made out of leather. Real thick. I feel like I had the genetics to become what’s called a mass monster.”

Hippie crowd, Bobby.

“We’re all allowed to dream, man.”