War-On-Flab: D-Day Minus Three

Gentlemen. After three weeks of stalemate, the enemy has struck.

I am ashamed to report that we have grown conceited and complacent. We thought that we have won the war. We thought that the enemy has fled. We thought that victory was ours. But we were wrong.

We had conquered and settled into the Coast-of-Jogging. Sit-up Town was ours and victory at the City-of-Pullups didn't seem far off. But after three weeks, the enemy struck back with unexpected ferocity and speed.

Flabby-Thighs burst through our front lines and we were hard-pressed from losing the Coast-of-Jogging. Spare-Tire-Tummy and Weaks-Arms have used the much dreaded Lethargy-Artillery to rain heavy shells on us. In addition, their Excuses-Shock-Troops and Lazy-Armored-Formation has laid seige on us. Our troops are hard-pressed to keep them away from Situp-Town and the City-of-Pullups.

As of now, the situation seems bleak. The battle hangs in the balance and i assure you that we are doing our best to regain our ground.

We cannot lose to the enemy.

We will be victorious.