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[themightyspazz]

You ever stop and wonder just how much better your life would be if it were written by Joss Whedon?

I do. All the time.

FOURTH WALL BREAKDOWN, Y'ALL.

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[themightyspazz]

In the gym, there are four people.

Voodoo's geared up, leaning up against one of the walls as he fidgets and checks a nearby clock.

John's doing much the same, albeit further down the wall.

Mako's in a tanktop and sweats, finishing up the last of a particularly grueling set of pullups.

And there is a reasonably athletic-looking 19-year-old of Scots-Irish descent in worn-out sweatpants, Asics, and a UC Davis UnderArmour tee working over a punching bag with a few combinations, his hands wrapped in black elastic cloth. He's still got a long way to go before he can try out for the fight team, but he's getting there.

[agoodmusekickin]

"Overachievers, the lot of you."

There's an average American sized 30-something woman leaning in the door frame to the gym.

"Seriously. You guys could be doing anything and you're working out. What's up with that?"

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo shrugs. "Guess some of me rubbed off on 'em."

John guffaws. "You should be so lucky, mister. I don't think-"

"Lock it up, both of you," the kid says, adjusting his wraps. He nods once in the woman's direction. "Hey, Bing. Just working on my combos, for now. Can't speak for tall, white, and angsty over there," he says, nodding to Mako.

[agoodmusekickin]

"He might be working out more than the rest of you lot put together. I mean, doesn't it take more muscles to frown?"

[camwyn]

"You know, I'm never gonna be able to see that icon of yours out of the corner of my eye without thinking of the Yay Clusters ad on Hyperbole and a Half."