” ‘ere in ze gym south of mar kette – is the cruisehr, ” he spoke with a hushed horrible fake Jacques Cousteau accent, ” ‘eh does two reps out on ze floor and zen reuturhns to ze showehr ‘oom to zee if anyone is hot enough. Notess how ‘e grunts at you if ‘eh tinks you are worth of his sexyehness.”
He paused for a moment as a large muscular bodybuilder passed him, naked, returning from the showers.
“Witness the animal savehgree of the gym lockehrroom.”” he continued quietly narrating to the amusement of his work out partner.
The cruiser let out a soft grunt and a woof in the direction of the man returning from the shower.
“Really girl,” the naked man said, whipping around, and then pointing at the cruiser, “You need to catch the clue bus, this isn’t the baths, let us dress in peace, without you hovering over us like Kirstie Alley at the Sizzler buffet, Jesus Christ.”
The cruiser nonchalantly walked past everyone and back out onto the floor of the gym.
“Defehted, z’cruisehr ‘eturns to the flohr of the gym, perhaps on ‘es next pass he will be ore successful.”