A pro's seminar ends in DISASTER!!! (post #1)
Brothers,
A well known pro won't be at any upcoming shows. And he is most displeased, and blames, of all people, me!
Last week, a known pro bodybuilder, who I won't name, contacted me and let me know he wanted to hold a bodybuilding seminar, charging people the equivalent of 15 American dollars to hear his training, nutrition, and supplement advice.
Things didn't go very well...and now he is quite angry with me.
He had asked for my help in organizing the promotion of his seminar, and I told him that I would be delighted to take care of that end of things. I hired graphic artists, and personally oversaw the designing of advertising posters that featured the pro's picture, and "TAKE BLOODY ****ING CHARGE!" in large, red, blood-dripping letters across the top. The smaller script read
"Get ****ing HUGE- scare your mates, your teachers, and your parents! SQUASH bastard enemies like beetles! Learn how to eat, train, inject, how to smuggle and/or import steroids... come to the show, and get a bottle of anadrol for free, to get you started!"
I thought it was smashing, and so did Nobby. I had hundreds of posters made, and Nobby and I posted them in places that we KNEW would draw whoever saw them to the seminar!
It was to be held in one of the toughest neighborhoods in London.
We went around elementary schools, middle schools, high schools, homes for disturbed youth, the local snooker hall, local playgrounds...a truly heroic effort, I must say. Tickets sold quickly.
The big day came-
The pro showed up to the local community centre and, on entering the large auditorium, stood gaping at the crowd.
A sea of mostly boys, aged 8-17, met his eyes. Many of them had shaved heads, bomber jackets, wore combat boots, t-shirts emblazoned with swastikas or skulls, and had swastikas tattooed on their foreheads. A jolly group of little rascals!
He then saw for the first time the poster I had made. He said "For ****'s sakes, mate, what the **** is this? Bloody kids! What...free ****ing anadrol...I could get in serious shit...!!!"
A look of true distress, anger, and who knows what else came over his face.
No sooner had he spoken than 10 police officers arrived, and escorted him out in handcuffs- he began sobbing. When they found the 3 crates (1000 bottles) of anadrol I had generously supplied, and asked whose it was, I simply pointed my thumb in the direction of the pro bodybuilder as he was being led away. "Well, I'll be going!" I quipped, and Nobby and I left- but not before Nobby grabbed the mic and roared, in a thick working-class London accent, "NOW, FOOK OFF YOU STUPID BASTAHDS- NO FOOKIN ANADROL FOR YOU LOT! G'WAN- FOOK OFF!". The crowd exploded in anger, chairs and bottles became airborne, and the sound of breaking glass filled the community hall.
Luckily, we made it out and drove out of the parking lot just as the ensuing riot got into full swing, in which the community center was burned down, 3 people killed, and scores injured!
We both laughed heartily as Nobby floored the Rolls Royce and we sped away from the scene of calamity!
So if a certain pro isn't around for the next few years, now you know why.