Ass Cream

Description

We all know the guy. He practically lives in the squat rack. He wears gym shark compression leggings to the grocery store, he drinks a gallon of water a day out of a plastic jug, and he genuinely believes his lower body is his finest asset. He thinks he is a Greek god. But what he doesn’t realize is that sitting in his own protein-sweat for two hours on the drive home has consequences. Under the hood, his chassis looks like a topographical map of the moon.

So you intervene. You hand him this jar.

You are giving him a literal tub of butt acne clearing lotion. You slide this botanical extract across his protein shaker, look him dead in the eye, and say, “Hey man, I know you’re proud of the gains, but it’s time to do some bodywork on the blind spots. You’re losing structural integrity.”

It is the absolute destruction of his gym-bro vanity.

Imagine the sheer, unadulterated indignity of the application process. He has to lock himself in his bathroom, prop one foot up on the edge of the porcelain tub, and contort himself like a discount Cirque du Soleil performer just to aggressively massage clearing serum into his own hindquarters. You are forcing a man who listens to David Goggins podcasts to treat his backside like a delicate, high-maintenance porcelain doll.

Every time he unscrews the lid of this little jar, he is violently humbled. He has to confront the fact that despite all the heavy lifting and the meticulous macro-tracking, he still biologically requires a specialized spot-treatment for the exact area he sits on to play Call of Duty. It is a masterpiece of targeted hygiene humiliation.