Men and women want them. They never go out of style. And sometimes they’re so hard you could wash your clothes on them.

Six-pack abs. Our founder got them in six weeks, but why suffer for weeks when there are ways to speed up the process? I was dying to know if they could be achieved in just one day. I was like Veruca Salt in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, and my metaphorical golden eggs were a set of rock-hard, double-take inducing, count ‘em, six-pack abs. I’d made up my mind: I wanted them now.

The plan: Consult cutting edge exercise and weight loss research to form a foolproof plan and target the fat from all angles. I invested in one day of calculated diet, exercise, and lifestyle followed by a photoshoot to document my before and after progress.

6:27 A.M. — 007
When I rolled out of bed I knew I was game for the big challenge. I set my alarm a whole hour early so I could squeeze in three sets of 200 crunches before breakfast (a two-gallon jug of water with a squeeze of lemon and four frozen blueberries). Next, I strapped on the vibrating Flex Belt, the first-ever ab belt toning system cleared by the FDA for toning, tightening, firming, and strengthen the abs (with a money back guarantee). While riding the train my pit stains measured seven inches in diameter, and I wasn’t even moving.

11:15 A.M. — Channeling Bugs Bunny
At the first signs of mid-morning stomach rumbling, I dove straight for the baby carrots. Call me crazy, but I had a genius kill-two-birds-with-one-stone plan. While my coworkers headed to Chipotle and Just Salad I knew a mostly carrots-only diet would give me the perfect orange glow to really bring out my natural contours. And before you go ridiculing me for eating all those carbs, I special ordered low-carb carrots to beat that bloat. I scarfed down 11 carrot sticks — The Flex Belt always leaves me famished.

2:45 P.M. — All or Nothing
I cleared out a space in the office and gathered the workout gear suggested by our expert trainers — the Shake Weight, the Free Flexor, and the Ab Rocket. I stripped down to my skivvies and put on the sauna suit I ordered the week before. I performed three sets of 100 inverted crunches, then blew off some steam on the Ab Rocket (while more steam accumulated in the suit). After that it was back to the bar, suspended by my now raw and blistered legs, to pump out three more sets of inverted crunches. I’m not going to lie — I was pooped. I was also slightly humiliated hanging there in a place of business, red-faced, wearing what looked like the giant black trash bags my dad uses to haul out raked leaves. Sweat pooled at the door’s threshold. My boss threatened to dock my pay if I ruined the floors, but I knew I had to power on. Afterward, I rewarded myself with a plain, unsalted, brown-rice cake and a long, cold shower. I never felt so alone.

4:30 P.M. — H2No
With my photo shoot just a few hours away, it was time to cut my water intake… by a lot. I limited myself to four drops of water every hour, a formula I came across while studying up online. Sounds nuts, right? But by manipulating my water intake like all the fitness models do before they’re photographed, my muscles would likely appear more defined by the day’s end. For accuracy’s sake, I made sure to lean my head back as my editor, Jordan, administered the water with an eyedropper. Man was I thirsty.

6:30 P.M. — LOL
After sweating it out for so long, I was excited to try out “laugh-work,” the latest trend in targeted abdominal fitness. I cued up the hilarious YouTube videos my coworkers emailed and LOLed for at least 35 minutes. Though my abs felt like an incinerator, I began to lose focus on the computer screen, and got sick of cats doing impolite things. I knew I had to push it out for the entire hour, so I called in the big guns. Each of my coworkers took turns tickling my feet for increments of five minutes until I was dripping sweat from working so hard. With 10 minutes to go, I hit a wall of fatigue unknown to me in my 22 years of life. My vision began to blur and I thought I was going to ralph. Luckily, David Tao, Greatist’s chief research officer, stepped in to coach me through the last minutes. Without his words of encouragement and dabbing my forehead with a tissue, I wouldn’t have made it.

8:00 — Say Cheese
It was time for the big reveal. While the photographer set up, her assistant sprayed me with cooking oil so I’d be extra shiny. After we were satisfied with a good handful of glamour shots, I rewarded myself with a real glass of water, a mariachi band, and rented a stunningly beautiful, white horse to ride around on in Times Square and show off all my hard work.

The Takeaway

Sure, I’d accomplished my goal of achieving six-pack abs in one day. But it wasn’t without some trying moments. I let some really important relationships falter while I focused so narrowly on myself. My puppy ran away from home, and I was also fired from my job. My boyfriend even broke a finger when I asked him to feel my rock hard abs, and then he broke up with me.

Will I ever do a one-day challenge again? Probably not. In the end, I can revel in the fact that I sacrificed just one day for some seriously amazing results. But while I felt at ease baring my midriff on the way home, it simply wasn’t worth the drastic diet and lifestyle changes just for abs so hard they rank between sapphire and diamond on the Mohs Scale of Hardness.

Disclaimer: This article is meant to poke fun at our culture’s fascination with six-pack abs, along with marketers’ ability to capitalize on that. Greatist doesn’t actually recommend eating only carrots or wearing a sauna suit at work (or any of the tips included, for that matter). The story above is fictional, so we hope you got a good laugh out of it. Happy April Fools’ Day!

Photo: Bigstock

Disclaimer: This article, along with all others posted on April 1st, is meant to poke fun at articles you might read elsewhere (or at least close to them). Greatist doesn’t actually recommend any of the tips included. Happy April Fools’ Day!