Coach Lithium

Welcome to the Lithium shed, kid. I know it's warm in here, but it's the best you're gonna get until varsity, so lissen up. My coach before me, and his coach before him and her coach before her, all went into this shed and lived here for ninety minutes and then 90 days. The first 90 minutes is just ceremonial, you see. And it prepares you. Already I can see your skin begin to pulse. You're going to want to get your skin wrapped, pronto. Or a full body tattoo. Just the vitals. Anything you can do to put something between your vitals and the lithium is going to help you, and make you stronger. Me, I covered myself in layers of sheet metal that cut the flesh around my joints to taffy-red ribbons. My knees and elbows poked out white bone by the end of it. The sheet metal was good for me, though. It made me powerful. Sometimes I want to put it back on, but I know I'd never take off willingly. You would have to take it off me. But whatever your plan is, I'm sure it will work fine. So, look. Here's the rub. The lithium is pretty depleted by this point, I mean we've been running this since the 70s. We were built to last back then, not like your generation. No offense. So there's really no reason to worry about being in the shed. You have to scratch your face till it bleeds so everyone else knows you were in the shed. It looks bad if everyone says you were in the shed and you come out with your skin as unmarred as a newborn's. It lust makes us look bad, alright kid? We have expectations to keep up. So get in there are grow your fingernails long. Do something unmistakably drastic to your body. You're young. You'll heal.