[Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Murdock, Face or BA!]
[Timeline – 1983: Somewhere in the Los Angeles Underground. Set just before Diamonds 'N' Dust. I have enlisted BA's help with this one. The Big Ugly Mud Sucker finally gets his revenge – but for how long!]
Body Work – by Hot Streak
[Intro]
I don't know what I've been told.
Music makes you lose control.
It was 10.30 in the morning and Face had just busted Murdock out from the VA hospital. BA was waiting outside in the van and he had given them strict instructions the day before to be ready for a vigorous workout.
Work your body to the beat.
Body work will set you free.
It was payback time from being knocked out and shoved on a plane during various past missions. Hannibal had promised BA that he could inflict his own brand of punishment on the team when the time was right.
Sound off – 1 - 2;
Sound off – 3 - 4;
Face was dressed in an immaculate, probably brand new, burgundy tracksuit, with a fetching white stripe running down the sleeves and outer legs of his pants. Murdock was dressed more casually in his "Nuts Feed Millions" T-shirt and jogging bottoms.
Bring it on down (bring it on down)
1 – 2 - 3 - 4, 1 - 2, 3 - 4.
Once they were in the back of the van, BA drove off to take them to their secret destination. Face was looking rather nervous. Murdock, on the other hand, was in a more upbeat mood.
"Don't worry Faceman!" he said in a cheery voice. "It can't be any worse than any of Hannibal's work outs."
Work! Work! Work! Work! Work! Work! Work! Work!
"I don't know, Murdock," replied Face solemnly. "BA was actually smiling yesterday when he told – no ordered – me to pick you up. I mean a real smile – not one of his usual scowls!"
As if on cue, BA started to snigger mischievously, which both Murdock and Face found rather out of character. It wasn't like him to be in such a good mood.
Face leaned forward in his seat and glanced at BA suspiciously, who immediately returned the Lieutenant's glare with one of his own ugly snarls. Face backed off, frowning deeply as he addressed the burly Sargent.
"Where's Hannibal?" he asked. "I thought he was supposed to be here as well."
"He's got some business to sort out this mornin'," replied BA. "But don't ya worry none," he added with another amused giggle. "He'll get what's comin' to him alright."
Work! Work! Work! Work! Work! Work! Work! Work!
Murdock and Face glanced at each other apprehensively. Murdock's broad grin was beginning to waiver a little bit.
After about 20 minutes, they finally arrived at their destination. BA jumped out and sauntered casually round to the other side of the van, whistling brightly. He slid the door open to find Murdock and Face staring at him dubiously. They seemed reluctant to get out of the van.
"After you gentlemen," he said politely.
This was just getting a bit too bizarre! BA was never this polite. He hadn't even called Murdock a "crazy fool" yet!
They finally climbed out of the van and found themselves outside the local Wrestling Club. A look of complete horror swept across Face's features, whilst Murdock was beginning to feel a few bad vibes himself.
They followed BA into the building, feeling instantly intimidated by an assortment of extremely large, sweaty bodies, cringing inwardly as they could feel the force of men being flung like a sack of potatoes on to the floor of the wrestling rings.
Body work.
Make your body work.
BA took them through to the gym room, where they were met with an array of weights, dumb bells, medicine balls and other hi-tech equipment.
Body work.
Make your body work.
"Er, BA!" said Face, in a beseeching voice. "This isn't going to take long is it?" I've got a lunch date at 1pm."
Body work.
Make your body work.
BA glared back at the conman. Face was giving him one of his wide-eyed, put-upon looks, with just a hopeful hint that said he would do anything for BA if it meant he didn't have to do this work out. But that wasn't going to wash with BA.
Body work.
Make your body work.
"You ain't talkin' to one of your Pretty Young Things now, Face," barked back BA. Murdock opened his mouth as if to join in the conversation, but was instantly interrupted by BA.
"And I don't wanna hear any of your foolishness, Crazyman!" he growled.
Murdock looked most offended.
"I was just going to say," replied Murdock. "That I have to be back at the VA for my basket-making workshop by 2 o'clock."
"Shut up fool!" exclaimed BA. "No more jibber-jabber." He pointed towards a running track. "10 laps up and down – just to warm up – get going suckers!"
[Verse 1]
Work your body
shake your body down.
Shake your body,
move it all around.
"He really should work on his customer-relation skills," mumbled Face as he and Murdock trotted off to the circuit track.
"Do you wanna tell him?" mumbled back Murdock.
"No talking in the ranks!" shouted BA.
Jeez! thought Murdock to himself. He was worse than Hannibal!
Work your body, work your body (Work your body).
Work your body, work your body (Work your body).
Work your body, work your body (Work your body).
Work your body, work your body (Work your body).
After they had finished their ten laps, they huffed and puffed back to BA. He immediately handed them a skipping rope each.
[Verse 2]
Work your body
take it to the top.
"50 skips on your right foot and then 50 skips on your left!" he snapped. "And no cheatin'."
Work your body,
we don't wanna stop.
This was actually harder than it looked. Although they were both quite nimble on their feet, it took a lot of strength, control and balance to keep one foot off the ground whilst hopping on the other foot.
Work your body, work your body (Work your body).
Work your body, work your body (Work your body).
Whenever one of them put a foot down or lost their balance, BA would make them do it again, whilst yelling, "jump higher, jump higher", in a gleeful voice.
Work your body (Work your body).
Work your body (Work your body).
They finally got through the routine. But before they could even stop to catch their breath, BA pointed towards the barbells. Another strenuous routine of flipping the bar up several times in different positions ensued.
Body work. Make your body work.
Body work. Make your body work.
Body work. Make your body work.
Body work. Make your body work.
This was followed by a series of alternating plyometric lunges, burpee lunges, iso-explosive bodyweight jump squats and plyometric step-up exercises.
Body work, will take you higher.
Body work, will set you on fire!
The routine was ended with several sit-up and press-up sequences.
Body work, will take you higher.
Body work, will set you on fire!
At the end of the work out both the Captain and the Lieutenant were looking slightly worse for wear. Their faces were flushed red and they were sweating profusely. They had used muscles that they didn't even know existed!
Set you on fire, fire!
Set you on fire!
As they hobbled over to BA, they were slightly unnerved to see that he was in deep discussion with two of his fellow wrestlers, who were built like a couple of shit brick-houses.
In and out.
Up and down.
"OK guys!" sniggered BA, as he turned to face the bedraggled pair. "Meet Fire and Brimstone. They're going to be putting ya through your paces in the wrestling ring!"
Move your body,
round and round.
"You can't be serious, BA!" whined Face. "You wouldn't let your favourite calling card get all messed up, would you?"
"Take it easy, Lieutenant," beamed back BA. "I won't let them bust your face up."
Stamp your feet,
tap your feet.
The look of sheer terror on both the men's faces seemed to send BA into a frenzy of rapture and delight.
Jump and shout
Jack it out.
[Outro]
Face and Murdock came limping out of the Changing Rooms. They had been subjected to an assortment of wrestling attacks, throws and aerial assaults!
Working to the rhythm of the body.
Working to the rhythm of the body.
They had been held in some very compromising positions which had included the Boston crab and the half Nelson.
Working to the rhythm of the body.
Working to the rhythm of the body.
They had been dropkicked, thrown around into various positions which included the backbreaker and the piledriver and had been powerslammed and powerbombed!
Work your body to the beat.
Everybody get up on your feet.
They had been jumped on in a death-defying aerial manoeuver called the Moonsault, leaving both men in a state of stunned shock.
Come on lets, take it to the top.
We don't wanna every stop.
"I don't fancy my changes with Trudie now!" whinged Face, as they shuffled slowly back to the van. "I ache all over and I still feel dazed from that damn aerial assault!"
"I don't care what Hannibal says," groaned Murdock. "But I ain't flyin' that Big Ugly Mud Sucker anywhere ever again.
Face nodded firmly in agreement and then regretted the movement when he felt his neck clicking.
Working to the rhythm of the body.
They clambered into the van and flopped into their seats, waiting for BA to drive them back to the hospital. He was chatting with Fire and Brimstone outside the entrance, with a big smug grin on his face.
Suddenly the cell phone rang. Face leaned across to pick it up, clutching his back in pain at the sudden movement.
Working to the rhythm of the body.
"Hello!" he answered in a low, gruff voice. "Oh, hello Hannibal." Face paused for a few seconds, listening intently to the Colonel's instructions. Murdock couldn't help noticing that the colour was slowly draining from his buddy's face.
"Yes, yes," Face was saying in a distressed voice. "But Hannibal, where exactly … Oh, I see. I think we may have a slight problem! Yes, yes, okay, speak to you later."
"What's up?" enquired Murdock.
"Hannibal's wants us to meet up with a client about a possible job," replied Face in a strained voice.
Working to the rhythm of the body.
The pilot's chocolate brown eyes stared back at Face in alarm.
"Where?" he asked warily.
"Zimbabwe!" answered Face. "And if we accept the mission, the client wants us to get there immediately."
"But that means …." hesitated Murdock, who couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence.
"Flying!" finished off Face, almost shouting the word out in a hysterical panic.
Working to the rhythm of the body.
At that moment BA poked his head through the door of the van.
"Flyin'!" he repeated in an angry voice. "I ain't getting' on no plane, suckers!"
Fini
[Does anyone remember the video to this song? Totally amazeballs! Anyway, hope you enjoyed this little ditty. I may not have got all the words right as I couldn't actually find them anywhere and had to listen very carefully on my I-Pod. Please R&R if you can find the time.]