FLAB SLAB

Once there was a boy.
Quiet, shy.
A chubby, sensitive, bookish little guy
He had a real name by which his folks knew him
But “Flab Slab” is how we'll refer to him
A flab slab: how would we define that?
That'd be like a big flat thick slice of fat
And that's the unfortunate nickname
He got from Randall, the nastiest kid in the sixth grade
Who preyed on Flab Slab's weakness,
Mocked his supposed obeseness.
He would roll up on him at recess
And call him the name that made him feel deep shame and depressed
Flab Slab was Randall's primary target
And it was quite scary. Eventually,
He stopped going out to the playground
And just holed up in the library.

Flab Slab!
He mistreats you!
You're his victim!
He's your tormentor!
How much will you stand for?
Show 'em what you stand for!
Frightened little awkward boy, sitting, looking at books...

One day instead of playing outside
Flab Slab trudged glumly to the libe
Where displayed prominently
He saw a biography of Muhammad Ali
Flab Slab took one look at the book
And after one page, he was hooked
He devoured it in a single sitting
And got an idea that set his head spinning
When he got home, he asked Mom and Pops a question:
Would they sign him up for boxing lessons?
He'd never shown any interest in sports before
But they said “yes of course, for sure!”
And we're not gonna go into a montage scene
Where he turns into a lean mean fighting machine
He just learned the basics of how to throw a punch,
Which made his self-esteem grow a bunch

Flab Slab!
You have had it!
You won't stand it anymore!
Take a stand and
Show 'em what you stand for
What do you stand for?
Fighting lessons and battle skills, learning about boxing...

Weeks passed.
Flab Slab biding his time.
Training.
Remaining in hiding.
Until one fateful day
When the teacher said,
“OK, class, it's time to go play.”
Flab Slab's heart was beating at a fast rate
As he walked out with the rest of his classmates
But he felt strong, no anxiety
As he went and he read quietly by a tree
Suddenly a shadow darkened the page
Flab knew a battle was about to be waged
Randall knocked his novel in the dirt.
Pulled him to his feet by the collar of his shirt.
Kids gathered 'round like they do when a fight occurs.
Randall said, “I'm gonna punch out those lights of yours.”
Flab thought of the things he had learned in the ring
Took a swing and ding-ding-ding!
Randall was a goner.
Flab Slab stood there dominantly
And as calm as could be he said,
“My moniker's an honor to me
'Cause it means I'm like Muhammad Ali.
It's F, L, A, B,
S, L, A, B.
Look closely, you'll see
It's the initials of 'Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.'”


Flab Slab!
That name you hated!
You reclaimed it!
You made it yours!
Now we
Know what you stand for.
And so we're finished, later, adios, bye, sayonara, love and BREAK!