Boom Boom Fitness

I wish I worked out more. Then I'd have nice things. I very much based this character off of Tony from the Power 90 videos. He's a maniac, but in the best of ways.


Derack “Boom Boom” De La Paz: An unqualified fitness instructor with unlimited confidence.
Rachel: A gorgeous 20 -something workout video model
Bryant: A 20-something workout video model


S1:  A plain fitness room with some dumbbells and fitness balls in the back. Techno workout music is playing.

Derack: Hey What’s Up People? This is Derack De La Paz with  BOOM BOOM FITNESSSSS!  (begins marching in place) I hope you’re standing, I hope you’re ready to move, I hope you’re ready to start getting into the best BOOM shape of your life! BOOM BOOM! I know I am (marches in place for a bit, loosening shoulders and neck) Okay! BOOM BOOM! Are my helpers ready?

Rachel and Bryant run out into place behind Derack forming a workout triangle. They march in place. Rachel wears a tank top and shorts that fit comfortably but not loose, Bryant wears the same but it seems too small.

Rachel: Boom Boom Derick

Bryant: BOOM BOOM Derack!

Derack: Bryant I LOVE that enthusiasm! (Speaks to the beat of the music) Okay we’re in our march, we got our bounce steps. And here we go, here we go – Follow me, follow me  - in one – in two – follow me on four – in three – and here we go- in four. Two steps to the right – BOOM BOOM! Two steps to the left BOOM BOOM! Two steps to the right BOOM BOOM! Two steps to the left BOOM BOOM! (continues movement) How you doing back there Bryant?

Bryant: BOOM BOOM Derack!

Derack: (mildly psychotic) YESSSS! Rachel? Do you like the burn?

Rachel: Boom Boom Derick.

Derack: (fairly psychotic) Work on it Rachel! BOOM BOOM! (starts marching again) Now come on we’re going to plant our feet into a wide squat stance. One at a time, first the left BOOM then the right BOOM– make sure to get that stance nice and wide. Now we’re going to reach down, down, down, now we’re going to reach up, up, up – Really extend those legs! Now reach down, down, down, again and up, up, up. Okay three quick ones up and down (yelling each time he goes up) BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Good! Now slow again. Here we go, down, down, down. Let’s see how the kids in the back are doin’.

Derack breaks formation to walk back and point out his assistants’ performances. Rachel and Bryant keep doing the squat exercise.

Derack: Alright look at Bryant here. He’s been with BOOM BOOM fitness for eight weeks and is getting some major results.

Bryant: Never felt better Derack! BOOM BOOM!

Derack: Yeah! That’s my boy! Now look at the definition of those thigh muscles. You can’t get that without work people! And this stomach BOOM rock hard! Lookin’ Good Bryant!

Bryant: Thanks Derack!

Bryant is still doing the squat exercise. Derack is very close to him, they lock eyes deeply. Both are panting from the exercise and so close their noses are almost touching.

Bryant and Derack: (whispering intensely) Boom Boom.

Derack: Now let’s look at Rachel. Rachel is new to BOOM BOOM Fitness and she has A LOT of work to do. Her body is a wasteland for carbs and saturated fats. Hardly any definition and absolutely no bang to her BOOM BOOM. But we’re gonna get her in shape in just six weeks.  Isn’t that right Rachel?

Rachel: Umm…yeah.

Derack: Rachel, I don’t understand what you’re saying Rachel!

Rachel: Boom Boom Derack!

Derack: There we go! Okay guys shake it out, shake it out. Now this is it for today but tune in everyday and join the BOOM BOOM Revolution.

Cut to black with words, “Six weeks later.”

S2.  Same fitness room and only Derack

Derack: Yeah! Welcome to a special edition of BOOM BOOM FITNEEEEESSSE! It’s our results show where we look back at all our hard work . First let’s bring out Bryant! Yeah BOOM BOOM!

Bryant comes running out and strikes a pose

Derack: Look at these results!

Bryant: I can’t STOP lookin’ Derack.

Derack: HHHHA! This is a perfect example of how the BOOM BOOM program continues to produce results. Bryant show them your bicep. BOOM! Now the other one – BOOM! That. Is. Outstanding!

Bryant: Boom Boom Derack.

Derack: Boom Boom Bryant.

Derack: Now, we’ve got a special treat. With only six weeks under her belt with the BOOM BOOM program, Wratchel has had some of the quickest results I’ve ever seen.

Derack and Bryant begin clapping proudly.
SPECIAL EFFECTS NOTE: Rachel comes out no longer being played by the same actress, but by the actor playing Bryant. “Rachel” is wearing the same clothing, but now it is just a bit too tight

Rachel: BOOM BOOM Derack!

Derack: BOOM BOOM Wratchel. YEAH! What you say we just get started?

Rachel and Bryant: BOOM BOOM Derack!

Derack: Just like yesterday people, lets begin with some arm reaches annnnnd to the left  BOOM BOOM To the right BOOM BOOM to the left BOOM BOOM to the right BOOM BOOM. Now you at home keep sending in those result photos and remember everyone…

For the first time in the sketch the background techno music stops but “Rachel” and Bryant continue working out as if it is still playing.

Close up on Derack face.

Derack: (wide eyed, psychotically intense) Boom Boom.

CUT TO BLACK

Lonely Food Critic

I think it would amazing to write a novel comprised of posts throughout the internet. Craigslist, Facebook, Twitter, and yes...even Yelp.


Reviewer: Hank Bursel

Sushi Palace
4267 Squibble Street
Florit, ID

    When I first saw a sushi place in Florit, I thought it seemed out of place. Other than the owner of the Framing Wok we didn’t even have any Asians in Florit. I’m not even so sure Chuck counts - Chuck Zheng is the owner owner and part-time chef of the Framing Wok. He’s a retired actor and a really hilarious guy. Each time I go there he tells me funny stories about growing up in the South. He reenacts each part with a spot on accent. He has pretty good food, so I was knew the sushi place was going to have some tough competition.
   Right away the Sushi Palace is a little weird. I had to duck under an enormous white flag with a red dot on it to get in and immediately a young woman bowed at me. She asked me if I wanted to sit at bar and as usual I said: “Of course.”
    Now I quickly realized that Japanese food is different than Chinese. They don’t deep fry nearly as much stuff as Chuck and also I didn’t see any sweet and sour on the menu. So I decided to order one of the rolls the hostess recommended. Sitting at the bar in a sushi place is totally different than at Dennys or the Pork Wagon. At Sushi Palace I get to watch the chef cut up bits of fish and make the rolls. He kept talking to me in Japanese and broken English with an old, raspy voice and start laughing. I don’t know what he said and I don’t know why he kept talking to me, but I really enjoyed our time together. He comforted me and I couldn’t help but to laugh along.
    Even though I watched him make all my food, I couldn't even begin to tell you what the heck he put in there. Other than the rice - I don’t think I’ve seen any of that stuff in my entire life! But after my first bite I knew that Chuck is going to have some serious competition when it comes to Asian gourmet in Florit. Normally I rate food by how quickly it takes my mind off the fact my wife left me 7 months ago to move in back in with her mother, and let me tell you - this food did the trick. As a bonus it also kept me from thinking about my dog - Henry - who ran after her the day she left and got hit by the Swanson man. Since her mom’s been blocking my calls, I can’t even tell my wife about Henry. Truthfully she probably wouldn’t even care.
    Yes, that first bite of what I believe was called “California Roll” was amazing. It made me remember a better time when I was surrounded by friends and laughter. Not that I have had very many friends. Growing up, I was sort of a loner except at a fitness camp my mom made me got to every summer. There I met a fellow hardcore Amine fan who also wore thick glasses named Julian. We hung out a lot together and shared our food hiding places. One night during a midnight candy search a camp counselor - a hard body jock of course - woke us all up and started snooping around for loot. I panicked and stuffed all my M & M’s one by one under each of my breasts, into my belly button, and under a couple of fat rolls. The counselor never found them, but my friend was not so lucky and I decided to share what I’d hidden. For some reason the smell of the Sushi Palace “California Roll” brought bag the memory of my friend and I smacking my belly and watching the M & Ms fall out of my numerous fleshy hiding spots.

As of publishing, I’ve revisited Sushi Palace twice and the only negative thing I can say is that the stools at the bar are not forgiving to a man of girth, which really doesn't bother me all that much since I typically get most of my food to go so I can eat while I watch TV. The biggest problem with Sushi Palace is that their food is too good and most of it is gone by the time I pull into my driveway. Delivery anytime guys? I hope so!

Four and a half our out of five stars.

Pummeling

    For this I used the word "pummeling" as a start off point. I definitely remember a fight similar to this as child where we all watched one kid get manhandled by another kid. Both had issues. 

Pretty soon the dust got into the two boys eyes and they threw wild, blind punches at each other, trying to connect. Travis was the skinny one and Luke was the tough one. Neither of them wanted to fight over some dumb comment, but by the time nearly every  first, second, and third grader surrounded the two boys chanting, “Fight. Fight. Fight,” there was only one direction to go - toward each other.

Rust Elementary School was just as the name implied - a neglected and dirty little school in Rust, ID sandwiched between a farmer’s field and a forest. During recess the children had something of a code when it came to fights. If one broke out a couple older kids ran over to Mrs. Krindle, an elderly widowed volunteer recess monitor, and asked her to tell them a story about what the world was like before TV. She’d go on an on about her family gathering around the radio and the chant, ‘Fight. Fight. Fight,” would  be nothing more than a  far away murmur.

Eventually the thin dirt slowly fell from the  sky and  settled on Travis and Luke, embraced in their fight. Luke was the tough one on top and Travis was the skinny one lying belly down in the dirt. Travis winced in pain as Luke pulled his arm tighter around the skinny boy’s neck.  Luke used a line he’d heard in one of the movies he watched when he stayed at his dad’s house. “One inch to the left and I can break your neck,” he  said in a panting whisper.

Travis burst out crying, large drops welling and dropping from both eyes.  Most fights  were usually a ball of chaos until they got broken up or until both boys ran from each other, crying. This one would stick in the memory of the onlookers as a one-sided pummeling.

“That’s right,” Luke panted, “let everyone see you cry.”   He’d learned the hold from his older brother who’d done the same thing to him not more than two weeks ago when his dad was busy with a woman he’d brought back from the bar. “Tell me you’re sorry.”

“I-I-I’m sor-rr-rree-ee,” Travis stammered. The words pulsed with his sobs.

Luke stood, dusted himself off, the crowd parted for him as he walked away.

Everyone quickly dispersed, some catching up with Luke, patting him on the back for a job well done. Once they’d all left, Travis looked up, wiped his face with the back of his right hand and smeared the salty, muddy tears over his cheek.  Alone and disgraced, he slumped off, not bothering to pat off his dust-soaked jeans

Sad New Orleans Cop

I likes monologues. Diary entries are fun.


September 22, 2008

Dear Diary:

           I’ve been meaning to get some things off my chest for a while. (Oh gosh this won’t be easy.) Well…Okay...Here it goes:
           Most of the guys call me Peter, but they don’t say Peter normal. They say, “PEEEE ter.” Even the captain does it. Sometimes I worry they don’t know my real name is Harold, or Harry. I prefer Harold – but I’d take Harry over Peter any day.
           Before the Mardi Gras where a guy peed on me nobody really noticed me – I was just another bike cop, blending into the background, working my beat. When I got peed on, everything changed. Maybe it was my fault – I don’t know, it’s hard to say. I think about it everyday.
           With the whole city buzzing about the biggest Marti Gras since Katrina, I was happy to be assigned as an extra patrol down at the parade route. Now normally – from what I understand since it was my first year – Mardi Gras is a few days where we just sorta throw public urination tickets out the window and make sure people go in alleys or somewhere out of the way.
That’s all I was trying to do. I tapped the guy –a hulking galoot of a man with a Gold Gym muscle shirt – on his shoulder and I nicely asked him to stop peeing in the storm drain. He had his penis in his hand and was already peeing  a thick yellow stream in front of a group of teenagers. All I wanted to do was point him in the direction of a dumpster not more than five feet away, but the big oaf turned and started peeing all over me. What made it worse is he made eye contact and then started circling his penis like a thick, veiny wand with a syrupy urine spraying all over my bare knees. All I did was stand there, holding my 10 speed with my bike helmet cocked a bit on the side of my head, looking foolish.

“Okay real funny, why don’t you finish up behind that dumpster over there,” I said. What made it even worse were my feet – they felt cemented to the asphalt and I couldn’t move as the big brute violated me in front of my partner. And worst of all was my partner, laughing and pointing at me (he said he forgot his helmet, but I think he was purposely breaking protocol) with the group of teenagers (who were drinking  alcohol I should add) who all had their fancy phones out filming and pointing.

“Peter?” my partner asked (come to think of it he may not even know my real name), “what the f-bomb are you doing?”(I should point out he actually said the f-word) Then without even taking my feeling into account he looked over at one of the teen age girls with a her shirt pulled up so high any one could see the bottom curvature of her bosom, “You gotta sent that to me,” he said to her “here’s my cell phone number.”

A few weeks later he got that girl pregnant and convinced her to get an abortion, but are any of the guys talking about that? No sir! They all replay the video like it’s one of Bob Saget’s Best of Funniest Home Video Bloopers (Gosh I love that show – why ABC? Why ever let Mr. Saget slip through your fingers!).

Let me tell you – it is not a Funniest Home Video! It was one of the worst days of my life whenever I think of it....Well....Let’s just say the rash on my calf seems to act up.

Grit Feldman: Candy Detective

This is why I like writing super short fiction. I wrote this a while ago as a quick character piece and came back to it, modified it a bit and now it is a long project I'm working on to eventually read to my sons.  

I was a bad apple from the beginning. A bad candy apple. The kind that goes brown as soon as it hits the air and then sticks to the roof of your mouth until you have to get in there with a spoon and scrape the darn thing off.  I wasn’t in the world for long before my mom realized I was no good and started sending me to a pediatric counselor who kept store bought fudge squares on a table between us.  Like a candied almond left in the freezer - I was a hard nut to crack, but, I suppose every chocolate bar has its melting point and eventually it was my turn after I hit bottom. Rock candy bottom. Two weeks ago on the day after my 11th birthday I got nabbed on two counts of theft,  stealing my particular poison. I’m a bean man. Jelly bean. They threw me in the clink – Sheffy County Juvenile Detention Center after a security guard at Stored Foods caught me filling my pockets with all kinds flavors from those plastic bins. I told him I was just sampling, but he didn’t buy it when my pants fell down from the weight of the beans in my pocket.

Let me tell you, there’s nothing like playing checkers for four hours in the lock down of a juvenile detention center and then two weeks of community service doing puzzle piece inventory for the Goodwill to set a kid straight. You don’t really appreciate freedom until you lose it. And on that day, when I was released  from Sheffy County Juvvy, when I smelled the sweet scent of freedom wrapping over me the way cotton candy wraps around a cardboard cone, I knew it was time for a change. It was then and there I went from being more crooked than a three feet of section of rope licorice to being more straight and narrow than a candy cane. Well, at least the straight and narrow candy canes.

My years of living on the wrong side of the law gave me the experience I needed to help the people most in need. Those silent citizens who fall victim to crimes so often left unsolved and forgotten. Candy crimes.  It was on that day when my mom picked me up from Sheffy County Juvenile detention center and ushered me in our minivan, shaking her head and repeating to herself, “Why on Earth? Why God?....Why?”, that I was no long was Greyton Julian Feldman, troubled youth. On that day I became: Grit Feldman, Candy Detective.