Hans, Personal Trainer


Thank you for joining Gold's gym.

My name is Hans and I am your personal trainer.

You may say "Hans, I don't need a personal trainer," or "Hans, what do your many African tattoos represent?" But these are distractions. Our focus is your body.

Show me your body. Okay. Now turn. Okay. Now bend. Now, while bending, look back at me like you have a secret. Okay. Good.

You are ready for the training. Please ascend the treadmill, set the incline to two, and clench your butt.

I like to tell my students that, while I was eating raw meat in the forests of Austria, I saw my reflection in a pool. It looked back at me and said "Hans, you should be a personal trainer."

Do you mind if I put my hands on you? Yes? Forget I asked the question.

These days, I go to the social security office for my check, but they refuse because they say I have no job. They say, "Hans, you just sneak into a gym. That is not a job." Then I punch the window and run crying out the door.

Now the weights. Grasp this five pounder and bend at the knees. Good. So, so good.

Can you crawl on your knees, whispering my name? No? Maybe that was too much.

I am so sorry to hear you're cutting our session short. Perhaps we can share dinner sometime.

I like dark meat and naked runs.

Do you have a number I can call? Wait, come back! I am HANS!!


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