Training partner DIES in the gym!!!

Victorian guy

Banned -- Cant respect a free board
Brothers,

Today I mourn the loss of a dear training partner. It was this day, 5 years ago, that he went to that great gym in the sky.

His name was Babu, and he hailed from the slums of Calcutta. My father 'purchased' him at a travelling freak show somewhere in the Orient. Standing 8 feet tall, and weighing in at 600 pounds, he was a monster- no doubt, the strongest man on earth. My father had Babu working in the garden on the family estate (Tweedsmuir estate in Buckinghamshire, England), where he lumbered about watering plants and babbling to himself. One day, after witnessing Babu flip over a garbage truck in a rage over racial slurs hurled at him by the driver, I invited him along to the gym with me.

From the start, Babu was curling 315, squatting 700, and crushing benches with his enormous weight. Under my direction, he ate a side of beef daily, washed down with gallons of milk, and swallowed a handfull of anadrol pills at bedtime. Whole chickens, bones and all, were consumed in a few bites by this beast of a human. The gains came, and I had plans to unveil the 8th wonder of the world at the next 'World's Strongest Man' contest.
I oversaw his training in the gym. Babu performed 800 pound front squats, front barbell raises with 225, 700 pound benches- all the while screaming out in no known language.

One awful day, however, things went amiss.
Babu and I were at the squat rack, when I decided to have a little bit of innocent fun- at Babu's expense.
"Babu, those lads over there say you're a big fucking golliwog!" I jibed. "Yes, Babu, those fellows say you're a big paki poofter!" I added, grinning. I was pointing to a crowd of 4 fellows who trained together, and acted like they owned the gym. Babu began turning red, and, shaking with fury, sputtered "I keel dem, the farging bahstards, I farging keel dem all!!" he roared. Rising to his feet, he lumbered over and bearhugged one of the men, crushing him like an egg. Another ran over and was literally broken over Babu's knee. The remaining fellows attacked Babu with olympic bars, but to no avail. Finally, when only one of them was left standing, I decided to join the fray, charging forward, screaming, seeking to smash the one fellow left. Babu got in the way, and I ran into him, throwing him forward. Babu stumbled into the one fellow left, and together they went through the front window of the gym, and plummeted two stories to the pavement below. I peered out- there lay Babu, on the sidewalk- stone cold DEAD!
I looked about the gym. Everyone had fled. Whistling a tune by Mozart and looking as innocent as can be, I sauntered out of the door, my hands deep in my pockets, as if I were on a leisurely Sunday stroll.

Later on I claimed the body. I decided to cremate Babu, and send his ashes to his family in India. I couldn't be bothered spending the funds to get him a decent urn- by jove, I needed that money for some high-class tarts I planned on having over for the weekend!

I decided to use an empty Nitrotech container for his ashes, and they were mailed (surface mail, it's cheaper) to the Calcutta slum from which Babu hailed.

So brothers, take a minute, bow your heads, and say a wee prayer for Babu. He went out like a true Iron Warrior.
It's really an honour to have trained with him, the big Sikh imbecile!
 
nice one, you could've gotten some people here pissy with this story if you had just made his stats a little more realistic. Some dumb asses might have bought it. good job thiugh
 
Don't any of you bastards feel bad for Babu? The guy is dead and all you can do it laugh? I hope you all burn in hell!!!!


















VG, that story is great Bro!
 
that was awesome VG....I was missing you the other day man. I love to hear those stories of yours. fahkin hilarious
 
VG VG VG VG VG *chant*


You got to hang out around here more often man, your stories are great. Always a good laugh.
 
Victorian guy said:
Brothers,

Today I mourn the loss of a dear training partner. It was this day, 5 years ago, that he went to that great gym in the sky.

His name was Babu, and he hailed from the slums of Calcutta. My father 'purchased' him at a travelling freak show somewhere in the Orient. Standing 8 feet tall, and weighing in at 600 pounds, he was a monster- no doubt, the strongest man on earth. My father had Babu working in the garden on the family estate (Tweedsmuir estate in Buckinghamshire, England), where he lumbered about watering plants and babbling to himself. One day, after witnessing Babu flip over a garbage truck in a rage over racial slurs hurled at him by the driver, I invited him along to the gym with me.

From the start, Babu was curling 315, squatting 700, and crushing benches with his enormous weight. Under my direction, he ate a side of beef daily, washed down with gallons of milk, and swallowed a handfull of anadrol pills at bedtime. Whole chickens, bones and all, were consumed in a few bites by this beast of a human. The gains came, and I had plans to unveil the 8th wonder of the world at the next 'World's Strongest Man' contest.
I oversaw his training in the gym. Babu performed 800 pound front squats, front barbell raises with 225, 700 pound benches- all the while screaming out in no known language.

One awful day, however, things went amiss.
Babu and I were at the squat rack, when I decided to have a little bit of innocent fun- at Babu's expense.
"Babu, those lads over there say you're a big fucking golliwog!" I jibed. "Yes, Babu, those fellows say you're a big paki poofter!" I added, grinning. I was pointing to a crowd of 4 fellows who trained together, and acted like they owned the gym. Babu began turning red, and, shaking with fury, sputtered "I keel dem, the farging bahstards, I farging keel dem all!!" he roared. Rising to his feet, he lumbered over and bearhugged one of the men, crushing him like an egg. Another ran over and was literally broken over Babu's knee. The remaining fellows attacked Babu with olympic bars, but to no avail. Finally, when only one of them was left standing, I decided to join the fray, charging forward, screaming, seeking to smash the one fellow left. Babu got in the way, and I ran into him, throwing him forward. Babu stumbled into the one fellow left, and together they went through the front window of the gym, and plummeted two stories to the pavement below. I peered out- there lay Babu, on the sidewalk- stone cold DEAD!
I looked about the gym. Everyone had fled. Whistling a tune by Mozart and looking as innocent as can be, I sauntered out of the door, my hands deep in my pockets, as if I were on a leisurely Sunday stroll.

Later on I claimed the body. I decided to cremate Babu, and send his ashes to his family in India. I couldn't be bothered spending the funds to get him a decent urn- by jove, I needed that money for some high-class tarts I planned on having over for the weekend!

I decided to use an empty Nitrotech container for his ashes, and they were mailed (surface mail, it's cheaper) to the Calcutta slum from which Babu hailed.

So brothers, take a minute, bow your heads, and say a wee prayer for Babu. He went out like a true Iron Warrior.
It's really an honour to have trained with him, the big Sikh imbecile!

enetertaining as usuall :D
 
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