am fucking jacked. There is no denying it, my muscles pulsate with every movement. Women break their necks trying to do a double-take as I walk past them. Men slip into deep depressions with the slightest twitch of my biceps. Little kids run up to me and try to climb me because they think I am a tree. Men, women, even little children, they all ask the same thing; how did you get so fucking yoked?

The answer is quite simple. You see it all started on Christmas Eve. Around midnight, I heard Santa coming down the chimney. He landed with a loud thud. Now this did not surprise me because I knew I had been a good boy this year. However I felt a weird sensation in my testicals. It was like my testosterone had been woken up from a deep slumber by something in Santa’s bag.

It wasn’t until the next morning that I found out the cause of my testosterone tornado. There it was, a Peloton bike. A massive erection soon followed that caused my pajamas to rip at the seam. It was like the Peloton was calling out to me, our cosmic energies combined and nothing else in the universe seemed to matter. In the distance I could almost hear my wife trying to get my attention, but the only thing I wanted to ride was the Peloton. I straddled the seat, my buttocks hugging the firm leather. I felt invincible. With a swift downward motion I was off and for the brief fifteen hours I rode my Peloton, I was in a testosterone fueled daze.

One month in, I was starting to see results. My arms were the size of an average man’s head, my legs were the size of tree trunks. My wife left me. My abs were so defined you could use my abdomen as a washboard. Needless to say, my life changed dramatically.

Soon, I lose my job, but I don’t mind. I can finally devote my entire being to please the Peloton. I worship the Peloton, but no matter how much I give the Peloton is never satisfied. For me to fully embrace the way of Peloton, I need to take it one step further.

In one of my testosterone fueled dazes, my Peloton spoke to me. “Come on Peloton, make sweet sweet love to me.” I obeyed. After the love making I dropped to my knees, my legs no longer able to support my weight.

I awoke the next morning with a renewed vigor. My arms are so big that I am unable to walk through a door. My legs are so strong that each step punches a hole into my floor. I limber over to my Peloton, “Thank you, my love.” I whisper. My life dream to become fit is complete. Thank you Peloton.

Surprised? I know I am.