Jon, Ryan and others in “Mr. Muscle”

Hey, did you move my towel cos I wanted to go there?

Sorry, man. I need those rays and my light meter said “This is the place.”

Yeah, but that was my towel, and this being a beach international beach law applies… to wit. That towel had my power of attorney while I was away purchasing an ice-cream and was exercising my entirely fair and appropriate prior claim to that spot.

You’re from out of town, aren’t you? Well, around here, a towel cannot act as a marker, unless said marker status has been agreed upon by all parties involved prior to the towel being applied to the sand.

Oh, come on. Where’d you get that load of old part from?

From the guy moved my towel last week about 3 seconds before I kicked his butt.

Yeah? Well, you better watch out or maybe Jon will kick YOUR butt.

Yeah! Rachel, are you insane? Have you seen the size of him? I couldn’t even reach his butt.

Now, if you don’t move your towel and you’re incredibly muscly, shiny and yummy body immediately, you are gonna be in a serious amount of trouble, young man.

Oh, yeah. Who says?

He does?

Heh. You know what? I think I’m burning. There is such a thing as too much sun, you know.

Jon may look really small and weedy, but I can assure you. He is fully trained in all British martial arts. So if you don’t want to wear those teeth as a necklace shift.

Uh, Rachel.

Okay. That’s it. We are gonna settle this like men.

Do we have to?

Yep. But not here. There are women and children present. Tomorrow 5pm Muscle Beach, we arm wrestle for this spot.

Arm wrestle.

Yep.

And, um, will you be using a normal arm, or, or that?

Are we on? Well?

Um…

Too right we are. He’ll be there, and he’s gonna wipe the floor with you and then do the windows.

Uh-oh. I’ve made a big mistake.

Yeah. I’ll say you have.

I should’ve had the coconut.