With the clowns act out of the way, Virgil ground what was left of his cigar under his heel before grabbing his kit. A pallet of weight lifting gear around five thousand pounds in total weight. Pulling on the rope he dragged the gear to center ring, getting the usual gasps and "wow's" for his looks. With all his stuff in the ring, Virgil said, "I ain't one for talkin, more for action really. So why don't I just show you what I'm all about?" 

Throwing the tarp off his pallet Virgil took the very first thing off the top, the rebar. Lifting the bundle was easy, only about fifty pounds, taking both ends in his hands Virgil bent inward and in the process made the bundle into a circle. Than into a pretzel, than in half. In the end the bundle was a solid ball of metal. After that the crowed roared in applause and continued to do so as he showed off his strength. Lifting a small car over his head, turning a log into splinters with a punch, and winning a game of tug of war with a truck. Poor thing had its axles ripped out for its trouble, that would cut into his paycheck but the cheers and indignant cry of a redneck made it worth it. 

With his act over with Virgil simply pushed the broken truck off the stage and the small car back on the pallet before dragging it off the kit off the ring. Sitting in his stool, Virgil made his way to the kitchen to help with dinner. It was his day anyway. As he entered the room the smell of food swamped into his nose as Manny was hard at work cooking his side of the meal, the one for the people not inclined for his Cajun spice. Seeing as Manny had even started on the broth for the Jambalaya Virgil couldn't help but crack a smile, who could ask for a better sous-chef?