I cornered him and started making my chest pop. My teeth were gritted and I said to him, "Don't make me put my titties in your face, boy."
After moving into his apartment, I received a giant box from Amazon. James didn't think anything of it. He had no clue that the box contained a pair of gravity boots and a kit for hanging from the ceiling in them. There was also a drill.
After a few weeks of training, I felt that he was getting tired and had stopped giving me his all. He needed to be shocked into action. At around 2 o'clock one morning, while he was sleeping, I got up on a chair and drilled the boot-holders into the ceiling. Then I stripped down to just a pair of shorts, got into the boots, and hung from the ceiling doing sit-ups.
I used the stereo's remote to start blasting Ja Rule's "New York." I was in the zone, pumping out sit-ups, singing along -- I'm from New York, New Yoooork -- and shouting, "Come on! Get the fuck up!"
James came out of his room, rubbing his eyes. He looked at the ceiling and said, "What the fuck are you doing, Castro? You can't drill holes in the ceiling. And it's 3 in the morning. I'm not getting up. We don't do our workout until 6. That's the deal."