Oh, Jason the Personal Trainer at my gym...
You must be outta yo muthafuckin' mind if you think Ima spend three hunna dollars just to have you tell me I need to work out more, harder, and faster. I am an Adonis, I just to choose to conceal my godliness beneath a carefully crafted layer of fluff. Otherwise, I couldn't walk through the mall with my shirt off eating a cantaloupe half while smearing the juices that drip off my chin into the chiseled mass of my pectoral muscles without getting mauled (get it? mall, mauled? no?) by a nuisance of teenage girls and their aged cougar counterparts. I love the mall and I love cantaloupe and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you take that away from me, Jason.
Besides, you can tell from the picture above that if those guns get any more powder added to them they could become unstable and I could wind up accidentally shooting myself in the leg like Plaxico Burress. I don't think the ladies would forgive you if that happened, Jason.