- Joined
- Feb 14, 2020
- Messages
- 627
- Reaction score
- 781
- Points
- 101
Fletcher, the Alpha Patriot Anabolic Steroid Dealer
Ladies gentlemen, brothers in iron, sisters in squats, and anyone who’s ever bought “creatine” from a man wearing Oakleys indoors—
we are gathered here today to remember a true American original: Fletcher the Alpha Patriot Anabolic Steroid Dealer.
Fletcher wasn’t just a man… he was a walking side effect. He sweated freedom, he bled testosterone, and his heart—though slightly enlarged—beat red, white, and blue.
Who else could bench press a truck, recite the Constitution backwards, and still have time to “accidentally” forget your change on a $200 vial of mystery oil? Nobody but Fletcher.
Yes, he lived fast—literally, his resting heart rate was 140. He loved hard—mostly himself in the mirror. And he died the way he lived: flexing, shirtless, and yelling at someone about “natty frauds.”
We’ll remember Fletcher for many things:
• His motivational advice, like “If you ain’t pinning, you ain’t winning.”
• His business model—Buy two vials, get a free American flag bandana.
• His diet of 9,000 calories a day, half of which came from chicken, the other half from rage.
Fletcher was more than just a dealer. He was a life coach, a hype man, and occasionally, a walking cautionary tale. And though he’s gone, his legacy lives on every time a gym bro yells “Lightweight, baby!” loud enough to scare the cardio crowd.
So today, let us raise our shaker cups—whether filled with protein, pre-workout, or mystery liquid Fletcher swore was “just BCAAs.” Let us salute the Alpha, the Patriot, the man who proved you really can get bigger, louder, and redder all at once.
Rest in power, Fletcher. Heaven’s gym just got its new personal trainer… and probably its first underground supplement ring.
Ladies gentlemen, brothers in iron, sisters in squats, and anyone who’s ever bought “creatine” from a man wearing Oakleys indoors—
we are gathered here today to remember a true American original: Fletcher the Alpha Patriot Anabolic Steroid Dealer.
Fletcher wasn’t just a man… he was a walking side effect. He sweated freedom, he bled testosterone, and his heart—though slightly enlarged—beat red, white, and blue.
Who else could bench press a truck, recite the Constitution backwards, and still have time to “accidentally” forget your change on a $200 vial of mystery oil? Nobody but Fletcher.
Yes, he lived fast—literally, his resting heart rate was 140. He loved hard—mostly himself in the mirror. And he died the way he lived: flexing, shirtless, and yelling at someone about “natty frauds.”
We’ll remember Fletcher for many things:
• His motivational advice, like “If you ain’t pinning, you ain’t winning.”
• His business model—Buy two vials, get a free American flag bandana.
• His diet of 9,000 calories a day, half of which came from chicken, the other half from rage.
Fletcher was more than just a dealer. He was a life coach, a hype man, and occasionally, a walking cautionary tale. And though he’s gone, his legacy lives on every time a gym bro yells “Lightweight, baby!” loud enough to scare the cardio crowd.
So today, let us raise our shaker cups—whether filled with protein, pre-workout, or mystery liquid Fletcher swore was “just BCAAs.” Let us salute the Alpha, the Patriot, the man who proved you really can get bigger, louder, and redder all at once.
Rest in power, Fletcher. Heaven’s gym just got its new personal trainer… and probably its first underground supplement ring.