It was roughly three. The man named Joan Ewin, whom while reveled for his physical ability was not reveled for his tactics, was sprawled on the gym floor. Not exactly because he was tired. He, for sure, had gas left in the tank. After all, he had only been exercising for two hours and he had at least three left in the tank, if not ten. He looked up and figured that the flow wanted him to start again. So, why not? He propped himself up on his hands, and fell forward, landing on his feet. He did a few stretches, cracked his shoulder harder then he should have, and looked around. His jersey and general sport-player get-up looked strange to most, but he certainly didn't mind. The shorts didn't slow him down, and sleeves would just slow his punches, making the jersey optimal.
He leaned against the wall, looking around. There was the pull-up bar, and there was the hoops around. He commented to the guy watching over the students that he wanted it up, and after getting it mostly up, he stood under the rim, just a little bit. He did a few squats, getting his legs ready. He then primed his job, and with the bottom of the hoop 15 feet up in the air, he jumped. He got to his apex of his jump, and was able to grab the hoop. He then lifted himself and sat up there, looking down on the others in realism, and inviting someone to try to match his physical feat.
" 'M bored. Someon' match me."
He leaned against the wall, looking around. There was the pull-up bar, and there was the hoops around. He commented to the guy watching over the students that he wanted it up, and after getting it mostly up, he stood under the rim, just a little bit. He did a few squats, getting his legs ready. He then primed his job, and with the bottom of the hoop 15 feet up in the air, he jumped. He got to his apex of his jump, and was able to grab the hoop. He then lifted himself and sat up there, looking down on the others in realism, and inviting someone to try to match his physical feat.
" 'M bored. Someon' match me."
