Flatulent Mr Fit

Kooky Chic

Feeling inspired, despite all the beers the night before, Mr Fit, (obviously not his real name) sprang out of bed and embraced the first day of the New Year.

He quickly dressed in his wife’s skins, he didn’t have a pair of his own. It had been a spontaneous New Year’s resolution after all. He squirmed into a very tight blazing orange t-shirt which barely covered his mid rift, let alone his man boobs, (a dodgy Christmas present from Aunt Mavis) and set off on his first run in at least …….hmm, well, forever actually.

Off he ran, down the road to the bottom of the hill.

“Not bad,” he thought to himself feeling rather chuffed. “Not bad at all.” He ran a bit further. “I am Superman,” he chanted. “I am Superman on New Years Day!” And if he could he would haveclicked his heels in the air.


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