About two-thirds of the way through last night’s class, both the white angel and the little guy in the red suit, both hanging out together there on my shoulders like they do, came to an agreement.  They agreed that I should walk crawl out of the class. 

After agreeing upon this with one another, they then proposed it to Butt and Legs, which both seconded the motion almost instantly and passed it on to Lungs for final approval.  On fire, as they were, Lungs heartily signed-off on the resolution and it was then forwarded on to Brain which, after much deliberation, vetoed the decision by the rest of me and the white angel and the guy in the red suit because of a last second appeal by Ego, which went something like…

“Fellow parts of Shaun, I just want to remind you that there are three cute girls presently drinking leisurely from their water bottles and barely breathing hard right over there.  And look, one of them is actually talking about going mountain biking this weekend.  And the one we call Wal-Mart mom is on her second class of the night and talking smack to the Cuban Assassin. They work out with Shaun’s wife, you know? It’s likely they will tell Shaun’s wife he’s a weanie. “

The left side of Butt then agreed to stop jittering.  Arms agreed to keep going if they could do girl push-ups if necessary.  Brain and Mouth pushed on only because the rest of me agreed to let them work together to insult the Cuban Assassin if he asked for push-ups again.  He did.  This time with one hand on a medicine ball.  Brain was too oxygen deprived and Mouth was too busy holding in dinner though to insult as planned.

But I made it. The Cuban Assassin will have to rid his class of cute girls to bring this man down.