Tuesday March 15, 2005

The Greek Myth of the Fist Pump

By Pumpernicus

            The story begins when a poor woman, whose name is of no importance to this story, gave birth to a little boy.  It was an abnormal birth for it is said he came out of his mother fist first, superman style.  Pumpernicus, the other essential participant in the one night stand that caused the conception, knew immediately the boy would someday be remembered for ever.  Quickly noticing this from up above, Zeus had his somewhat flamboyant messenger Hermes (his bitch) keep an eye out on this peculiar boy.  The boy gained muscle and strength at an unusually fast rate it would make Bonds’, Giambi’s, and McGuire’s scandals look innocent.  He could have easily taken Dolph Lundgren in Rocky 4 at the age of 4.

            Hermes developed quite a pedophiliac crush on the perfectly sculpted boy, and was caught pumping his fist in his lap on numerous occasions.  Keeping the boys developing strength a secret like a porn stash underneath a mattress, Hermes was hesitant to notify Zeus of the boy wonder.  As the boy became older, it wasn’t long before Zeus’s playmates, Athena, Aphrodite, and Hera, became obsessed with the mortal.  Zeus wasn’t having any of that, so he figured out a way prove he was better than the young man.  He entered the body of a mortal whose figure matched that of Arnold Schwarzenegger 15 years ago, and challenged the young man in the most prestigious of all events, Arm Wrestling. 

            One day during his daily routine of performing ridiculous tasks one might see on ESPN’s The Strongest Man in the World contest, the young man was approached by Zeus who demanded to know his name.  He replied “Fisticus, son of Pumpernicus”.  Zeus proposed the dual, and Fisiticus accepted the challenge, not knowing it was the God of Gods of course.  They agreed to meet when anyone could figure out how the sun dial worked.

            News of the greatest Arm Wrestling Contest spread through the city faster than Adderall through Villanova during exams.  The two sat down opposite one another at the most glorious arm wrestling table ever seen, surrounded by the crowd gathered at the most glorious arm wrestling coliseum in Greece.  Each elbow rest on the table, and they interlocked their right hands. (They were both righties of course because the Greeks would destroy any lefties at an early age from fear of catching their horrible disease)  Fisticus looked into the deep into the eyes of his opponent unaware it was Zeus.  Believing his opponent was only mortal, Fisticus’sss confidence boiled inside of him providing his body what anger did for the incredible Hulk.  Zeus was confident, like Wile Coyote, that his deviant scheme would be successful, and soon be home enjoying the Goddesses.  And let’s be serious, there’s no way he’d ever catch the road runner. 

            The Official Arm Wrestling Referee started the match traditionally by smacking the bare ass of a left handed man with a large paddle.  It was not uncommon back then to save some left handed people for demeaning acts like this.  In fact, some could argue this also perpetuated the Greek Fraternity life tradition of paddling pledges….anyway, the crowd went wild as the two arms stood motionless interlocked at the hands.  The only way you could tell they were wrestling was from their awkward facial expressions similar to the faces made when attempting to sink a battle ship in sea of the toilet, metaphorically speaking. 

            Like Manchester United supporters at a match against Real Madrid, the fans cheered as though their lives depended on who won.  Zeus was utterly shocked that Fisticus had kept him from winning, and summoned his godly powers for more strength.  Fisticus, surprised by this so called “mortal”, always liked a good challenge so he kicked it into fifth gear.  Their efforts cancelled each other out and the arms stayed solidly in the middle of the table.  Some say it lasted for 6 hours; others claim it was a lot of minutes, but it’s said the event became like a miniature Woodstock for the crowd.  No one knows how long it actually was because the guy who figured out the sun dial blacked out. 

            All of the sudden, Zeus came to the realization that he was a god, and just wasted the past two days of his life over some hoes.  Fisticus, whose arm was still rock solid, woke up from his Zen like focus to find his opponent calmly decided to forfeit.  As soon as he heard the smack of the paddle, he realized he won the match.  Moments later, he realized that his arm actually had turn to stone, like a petrified fossil.  Hermes, like a gossiping bitch, informed the coliseum that he had defeated the almighty Zeus, not just an Australian guy with a horrible accent.  And then, in a moment of pure and utter elation, he threw the winning arm up in the air which had been solidified in the position bent a little over 90 degrees at the elbow.  And there it was…The first Fist Pump…setting a pumptitude level never to be rivaled.  Sharing his feelings, everyone mimicked the move that would echo for centuries to come.  The crowd carried him out of the coliseum, pumping there fists and screaming his name.  It is said that his arm was enshrined somewhere in Athens with a plaque underneath which read “Fisticus of Pumpernicus”…which became commonly known as the Fist Pump.

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