I hate this guy at my gym. I call him Eye-patch. Because he wears an eye-patch. Duh.

He’s an older guy and he stares at the all the girls with his one good creepy eye. And he doesn’t know how to use the water fountain...

Eye-patch is one of these guys who feels the need to deep throat the water fountain. He’s like, got his mouth all on the fountain and he's making slurping noises. Why does he have to turn the water fountain into a sex movie? The water fountain is spraying him, giving him a facial.

And this guy Eye-patch will hover over you while you use a machine because he wants it next. I got so fed up with him, I was like, “Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr… you waiting for this machine?”

So now he hates me, too. We’re enemies.

But I decided to call a truce. Because you don’t want to be enemies with a pirate.

Now, the very next day I had a freak accident. And I scratched my cornea…

Yeah, so the doctor said that I had to wear an eye-patch for a week.

On Tuesday, I go the gym. And Eye-patch sees me wearing an eye-patch and he goes ballistic! He’s like, “That’s it!!!”

And he attacks me!

He grabs one of the aerobic sticks and comes at me! So I grab a stick, too. And we fight. I jump up with one hand on my hip and the other hand jabbing him with my stick.

Then he grabs a girl off the treadmill and he barks, “Arg! One false move and the wench gets it!”

So I run back, reach up to grab one of those tension cables and I swing towards him with my stick ready to lance. Aaaaaaaargh!

I grab the girl away! Then I’m like, "I declare this here health club safe for all ye maidens!”

Then I tie Eye-patch to an exercise bike with a jump rope.

NOTE: That story was made-up. But if it was true, it would be pretty cool.