The six pack was his dream. A dream he sweated for every day. The day the pack came, he was just a cadaver at the mortician's table. Such was his tragic tale. Then along came a scientist who gave him a second life. Now that he was born again, he wanted a new name. The scientist fondly called him Frankie.
All the rants and raves from a brain that has endured decades of anthropological abuse.
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