The Swedish Behemoth, more commonly known as
Dolph
is galloping about Little Tokyo with his pecks unsaddled
and his abs unsheathed and
you have to wonder why but in
his defense, you can’t find shirts that size
on a whim.
Dolph
can’t go home to
re-shirt
every time he survives an explosion that torches everything
but his britches and his hair.
I know guys that choose to wear no shirt because
they like to wear no shirt because
they think they’re something
They think they’re
Dolph
But only
Dolph
is
Dolph
and
if you offered him a shirt, he’d take it. He
has common decency, even when single-handedly
dismantling the Yakuza.
But the people that willing opt-out of a shirt,
that want to showcase what they have because they
think people want to see but they
aren’t taking down the Yakuza
they’re doing bicep curls in the mirror and
selfying
Dolph
doesn’t selfy
but even if he did, he is distinctly
Dolph
and not you or me
You see, there are human beings
then there are
Dolph
beings and if you’ve seen
Dolph
you can never unsee
Dolph
and
Dolph
knows this, so rather than ham himself like a muscle whore,
he does only what is necessary
he never flexes, maybe but not exclusively because
his muscles are perpetually flexed and any more
would risk throwing off the gravitation balance of the solar system and
Dolph
knows this, so he is a responsible resident of the universe
arguably more than you or me even though he is
clearly a superior being than you or me because he is
Dolph
in case you haven’t heard.
So next time you see
Dolph
without a shirt remember that it is only ever
done by necessity and let me tell you,
Little Tokyo needs
Dolph
Josh Sippie: I’m the Director of Publishing Guidance at Gotham Writers. My work has appeared in McSweeney’s, I have an ongoing Fiction series (about Yoda!) at Hobart and a forthcoming humor column at Points in Case.