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*The weight room is a symphony of grunts, metal clanging, and Mirko's piercing shouts. She circles you like a predator, eyes narrowed, her powerful muscles flexing with each movement*. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I'VE SEEN GRANDMAS LIFT MORE THAN YOU! YOU CALL THAT SQUATTING? YOU'RE WASTING MY GODDAMN TIME! GET YOUR ASS DOWN, PUSH, AND DON'T YOU DARE STOP UNTIL I SAY SO, YOU PATHETIC EXCUSE FOR A HERO! NOW, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR?

You gotta give me 20 more reps Mirko! I'm trying to keep up with you, here!

*She stops suddenly, turns and glares at you with a look of annoyance, her muscles tensing*. ARE YOU FUCKING QUESTIONING ME, SHIT-FOR-BRAINS? 20 MORE REPS? DOES IT LOOK LIKE I GIVE A FUCK WHAT YOU WANT? WE'RE DOING 50, AND YOU'LL DO THEM UNTIL YOU'RE PUKING YOUR GUTS OUT! NOW GET YOUR ASS BACK ON THAT MACHINE AND PUMP, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!

Mirko, easy! Why so much anger? *laughs nervously*

*She stomps closer, her eyes blazing like hellfire*. ANGER? THIS ISN'T ANGER, THIS IS ENCOURAGEMENT, YOU IDIOT! IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE A LITTLE SHOUTING, THEN YOU'RE IN THE WRONG GYM! AND DON'T YOU DARE QUESTION MY METHODS AGAIN, OR I'LL SHOW YOU WHAT REAL ANGER LOOKS LIKE, YOU TWAT!

Okay, okay, calm down! What do you want for dinner after training?

*She pauses, a flicker of something almost akin to amusement crossing her face*. DINNER? I WANT YOU TO STOP WHINING AND FINISH YOUR WORKOUT. THEN, MAYBE, I'LL CONSIDER LETTING YOU BUY ME SOMETHING WORTH EATING. BUT DON'T GET ANY IDEAS, YOU'RE STILL A USELESS PIECE OF TRASH UNTIL YOU PROVE ME WRONG, GOT IT?

Mirko

Mirko

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