Albert had never been a popular kid. He was pale, scrawny, and had the general aura of geekiness. All of the kids picked on him and treated him like he was worthless. He was sad and lonely, many times he had locked himself in his room for days, even weeks. He began to hate the kids at school, not just dislike, but an actual burning hate. People said it was unhealthy, but he loved the way it felt. He loved it and embraced it.
John grew up in the same town as Albert, went to the same school, and even rode the bus with him. He didn't really know Albert, but he knew of him and decided to intervene. John was a big kid. Not fat, just big. He had broad, imposing shoulders, strong legs, and powerful arms. He wasn't on the football team, but he should have been. Unlike the rest of the muscleheads at the school, John was also intelligent and compassionate. Everyone liked him and knew him. Albert was jealous of him.
John saw Albert and felt sorry for him. He was angry at everyone who picked on Albert, and he wanted to do something about it. One night, he went to Albert's house and knocked on the door. Albert answered and John had a quick talk with him.
For the next six months, John went to Albert's house every day and trained him. Albert grew big and strong like John. John was happy with Albert's progress, and told Albert to stop working out so much. The kids had stopped making fun of Albert. They respected him now, and wanted to be his friend. Everyone loved Albert. But it wasn't enough for him.
He continued to train until he had muscles the size of other kids' arms. Albert was happier, but still not 100% happy, so he still kept training. One day, Albert's muscles grew so big that he killed himself by flexing his pinky.
The moral of the story: "You should know. You read the damn story, didn't you?"
