meet all your fitness needs. Let me walk you through our price package…” Clark turo see a well-built young man wearing a bright red pression shirt. “PUMP & FLEX”, it read, boldly emblazoned across the man’s full chest.

Superman would have had no problem iing with this enthusiastian. Clark, oher hand, - especially with his journalist mode turned off - struggled a little bit more. “Err… actually, I’d just like a place to exercise…”, mumbled Clark; even the phrase ‘w out’ seemed a little too jock-ish to just roll off his tongue.

Unfazed by (or perhaps unaware of) how unfortable the lanky grey-suited man in front of him looked, the young man beamed Clark a smile and tinued, “Totally hearing you dude. So our 10-year membership is $999 a year. I know it sounds steep, but when you divide up by week, its just…” Too polite to interrupt Landon (or so the ag on his stretched out pression shirt reads) a sed time, Clark heard the maol the bes of a lifetime gym membership before settling for a simple one-month trial.

Landon insisted on taking Clark on a tour of the gym, but Clark feigiredness and turned him down. After ging into a long-sleeved grey sweatshirt and an equally loose-fitting grey sants, the journalist scouted out the best running mae to observe the entire gym hall. From the refle of the wall of mirrors in front of him, Clark could see most people were just alone doing their thing, with a few men in pairs taking turns spotting each other. Then in came a raucous group of frat bros who seemed to have started a gruntiion while doing bicep curls. Clark made a mental o stay away from them.