Time flies by and after a couple of hours of of talking, drinking, eating and having a good time, Ad says to Rob, "There, all done! Whew! Well, after all that, I expect I've added to the 180 - I'm sure I ate more than I worked off!"
"Hey, me too," says Rob. "But, you know, what's a few pounds here and there?"
"That's right," says Ad, downing another beer. He's got quite the buzz on, he's almost slurring his words. "Hey, 185 is find by me. My footie team is a long way from here..."
"... and mine closed down on me..." adds Rob, almost melancholy with drink.
"...but if I get too big for footie, I can always play American football....they like big guys...."
"Ain't it the truth? Those Yanks..."
"Ya know, it must be pretty cool being as big as that Gibson fella - 400 pounds! Jes' think, nobody'd ever bother ya, ya could eat anything tha wanted," Ad goes on.
"He was a big 'un, wasn't he," replies Rob, the booze really hitting him. "I wonner..."
"...if we could get that big?" asks Ad, slapping Rob in the gut.
"Hey mate, that thing's full..."
"Yeah? Let's keep it that way," says Ad.
"You want me to gain?"
"Nah, I wanna gain, and I need a gaining mate!"
"Sure!" says Rob. "Let's go get some more food..."
The two tipsy roommates stumble out of the room and head for....
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