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Phhhewwww, alright, take a deep breath, because this is unbelievable. Alright, so yesterday I walk to the store to buy muscle milk and oats, you know, nothing out of the ordinary, just a few ingredients for my gainers. I elbow drop about thirty cubs fans on the way there because I have my Sox shirt on. And I key a few cars. Nothing special. Anyway, I get to the store, find my muscle milk and Quaker oats, and proceed to get in line to pay for my purchase. Who do I see when I get in line?? None other than THE Chuck Norris. I try hard to think of something to say, but draw a blank and start to get nervous that I might blow my shot at meeting THE Chuck Norris.
His signature vomit-inducing hairy chest is still in its matted glory. I start to develop this nervous twitch, which doctors told me has something to do with my tourettes, and I brush him with my arm on accident. Sorry, I say, embarrassed. He gives me the eye of the tiger. I throw an awkward smirk in there to try to lighten the mood. Anyway, he's up now to pay for his purchases. I've always been curious about what Chuck Norris might buy if he were in Dominick's, so I sneak a quick peak. From what I see, he's only buying K-1 jelly, six carrots, and a couple of gallons of milk. I start to wonder if the rumors about him being gay are true. That's a lot of carrots, and K-1 jelly isn't exactly subtle. You catch my drift. As he whips out a wad of cash from his chest mat, the cashier tells him the milk he picked is past the expiration date. And what unfolds from here, my friends, is epic.
Chuck gets angry and says "What was that, bitch?" He grabs the milk from her frail hands and gives her an Indian burn. Not a real bad one, but enough to get his point across. It was almost bleeding. Then he rips the cap off with only his index finger and lifts it up to that grungy scumstache of his to smell. He takes a nice whiff and kicks back, making a loud grunting sound and spilling milk all over his chest, instantly absorbing it into his mat. He yells, "God Damnit!" at the top of his lungs and the place just freezes. My nervous twitch begins to worsen. "If I'm ever gonna get a chance to talk to Chuck", I tell myself, "this is it." So, in my nervous twitching, I say, "Uh, Mr. Norris, do you want me to run down aisle nine you COCK SUCKING SON OF A BITCH WHORE and get you some paper towels?" "Oh god," I say, "my tourettes!" I try to apologize, but he's not buying it. He gets right up in my grill. The putrid smell of rotten milk emulating from that chest of his makes me heave. He gets closer, and my homophobia starts to creep in, so I say, "You know, that Total Fitness Gym is really something else. Great range of motion on that thing", and start to back up frantically. He says, "Boy, you're just a big damn comedian, aren't ya son?" "How about I close that funny mouth of yours," he roars. He tries to grab my neck for an Indian Burn, but he misses and ends up grabbing this lady's kid and giving him a nice burn. When he realizes what he's done, its too late. The kid is KO'd. The mother is distraught, and Chuck's got me angry. I say, "You knocked him out, why don't you try knocking me out now?" He says, "I only fight in the ring kid." "My rings outside", I say.
It goes down right outside the L station. He circles me like its his birthday, acting like I'm just some chump on the street. He says, "you're gonna regret this kid", and throws a big right. I block it and uppercut him in the chin. He goes down, and it looks like the fight might be over. So I turn my back, shake my head at him, and start to walk away. All of a sudden his agent shows up and yells, "Chuck, you walk away from this, you walk away from Boflex and Total Fitness!" Chuck grunts his way up and runs up to me and sucker Indian burns my forearm. "Ahhhhh", I shout, "that kinda hurt!" and drop to the ground. He's trying to flip me over, I guess to somehow utilize his carrots, but I counter it and get him in a head lock. "Is that it!", I yell. He quickly submits. He's lying on the ground, his chest raw from rubbing on the asphalt, when I hock a lugey on him and walk back toward the L. He gets back to his feet, and in one last desperate moment, charges at me. "Look out!" the crowd and recently arriving media yell. He pulls a knife out his pocket and is mid swing in sticking me when, smack, a car slams into him and takes him out clean. Chuck is out cold, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I wave to the applauding crowd and media, and make my way to get on the train, when someone yells, "Hey, kid, wait!" And out of the car steps Kareem Abdul Jahbar. "Kareem, is that you," I say. "Here ya go", he says, and throws me some shiny new kicks from back when he was balling. He gives me a sort of nod of approval, as if I'm to assume the thrown from this day forward, and I make my way to the train as the sun sets.
The world was forever changed.
His signature vomit-inducing hairy chest is still in its matted glory. I start to develop this nervous twitch, which doctors told me has something to do with my tourettes, and I brush him with my arm on accident. Sorry, I say, embarrassed. He gives me the eye of the tiger. I throw an awkward smirk in there to try to lighten the mood. Anyway, he's up now to pay for his purchases. I've always been curious about what Chuck Norris might buy if he were in Dominick's, so I sneak a quick peak. From what I see, he's only buying K-1 jelly, six carrots, and a couple of gallons of milk. I start to wonder if the rumors about him being gay are true. That's a lot of carrots, and K-1 jelly isn't exactly subtle. You catch my drift. As he whips out a wad of cash from his chest mat, the cashier tells him the milk he picked is past the expiration date. And what unfolds from here, my friends, is epic.
Chuck gets angry and says "What was that, bitch?" He grabs the milk from her frail hands and gives her an Indian burn. Not a real bad one, but enough to get his point across. It was almost bleeding. Then he rips the cap off with only his index finger and lifts it up to that grungy scumstache of his to smell. He takes a nice whiff and kicks back, making a loud grunting sound and spilling milk all over his chest, instantly absorbing it into his mat. He yells, "God Damnit!" at the top of his lungs and the place just freezes. My nervous twitch begins to worsen. "If I'm ever gonna get a chance to talk to Chuck", I tell myself, "this is it." So, in my nervous twitching, I say, "Uh, Mr. Norris, do you want me to run down aisle nine you COCK SUCKING SON OF A BITCH WHORE and get you some paper towels?" "Oh god," I say, "my tourettes!" I try to apologize, but he's not buying it. He gets right up in my grill. The putrid smell of rotten milk emulating from that chest of his makes me heave. He gets closer, and my homophobia starts to creep in, so I say, "You know, that Total Fitness Gym is really something else. Great range of motion on that thing", and start to back up frantically. He says, "Boy, you're just a big damn comedian, aren't ya son?" "How about I close that funny mouth of yours," he roars. He tries to grab my neck for an Indian Burn, but he misses and ends up grabbing this lady's kid and giving him a nice burn. When he realizes what he's done, its too late. The kid is KO'd. The mother is distraught, and Chuck's got me angry. I say, "You knocked him out, why don't you try knocking me out now?" He says, "I only fight in the ring kid." "My rings outside", I say.
It goes down right outside the L station. He circles me like its his birthday, acting like I'm just some chump on the street. He says, "you're gonna regret this kid", and throws a big right. I block it and uppercut him in the chin. He goes down, and it looks like the fight might be over. So I turn my back, shake my head at him, and start to walk away. All of a sudden his agent shows up and yells, "Chuck, you walk away from this, you walk away from Boflex and Total Fitness!" Chuck grunts his way up and runs up to me and sucker Indian burns my forearm. "Ahhhhh", I shout, "that kinda hurt!" and drop to the ground. He's trying to flip me over, I guess to somehow utilize his carrots, but I counter it and get him in a head lock. "Is that it!", I yell. He quickly submits. He's lying on the ground, his chest raw from rubbing on the asphalt, when I hock a lugey on him and walk back toward the L. He gets back to his feet, and in one last desperate moment, charges at me. "Look out!" the crowd and recently arriving media yell. He pulls a knife out his pocket and is mid swing in sticking me when, smack, a car slams into him and takes him out clean. Chuck is out cold, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I wave to the applauding crowd and media, and make my way to get on the train, when someone yells, "Hey, kid, wait!" And out of the car steps Kareem Abdul Jahbar. "Kareem, is that you," I say. "Here ya go", he says, and throws me some shiny new kicks from back when he was balling. He gives me a sort of nod of approval, as if I'm to assume the thrown from this day forward, and I make my way to the train as the sun sets.
The world was forever changed.
