Fitness Influencer (Patreon)

[giant, muscle growth, bodybuilders]

While Clark rummaged around in the crawlspace underneath his garage’s stairs, Max paced behind him, swinging his phone’s tripod like a claymore. “And then,” Max said, flexing his pecs, then glancing down at each bicep as he popped them individually to channel some of his anger, “that dumb gym-nobody told me, ‘That’s not how we rack our weights here!’ Me! I was mid-stream, too! I had 1100 followers watching as he called me out like I was some amateur chump!”

Clark, who had climbed into the crawlspace up to his waist, was moving boxes around. “Can you hand me that other box?” His voice was muffled.

Max threw his tripod to the ground. “Are you even fucking LISTENING to me bro?” he said?

Clark emerged from the crawlspace, wiping a cobweb from his spiked hair. “Totally, bro. I just figured we could, y’know, move those boxes WHILE I listen to you.”

The two gymbros were still dressed in their workout attire–Clark in a compression shirt, skin-tight around his muscular torso, and sweatpants; Max wore a stringer tank and shorts that tightly hugged his plump glutes. Max was still percolating with rage, and while Clark seemed sympathetic, he also wanted to take care of the boxes his uncle (with whom he had lived since college) had asked him to move into the garage storage.

“I’m listening! I swear! Gym asshole told you to rerack weights. Who the hell is this guy, anyway?” Clark waited a few seconds into Max’s retelling before he retreated into the crawlspace, this time slithering all the way inside.

“They call him ‘Rohr’--guess it’s his last name. I dunno, guy’s so roided up he can barely move, huge tren-belly, tons of water retention… garbage physique. All size, no shreds. So then he says, ‘What’s your member number?’ And I’m like, whatever, I told him, and he’s like, ‘Your membership is up.’ And then when I go out front to cancel it, you know what he does?”

“What?” came the echoed voice from several feet into the depths of the storage area.

“He told me my fucking membership is CANCELED!”

“Fuck you! He did not!” came Clark’s muffled response.

“Yeah, he fucking did!” Max said. He hit a most muscular pose, took stock of his physique–aesthetically perfect, just as he always was–and then threw punches in the air, imagining that he was hitting the middle-aged musclehead gym employee right in his dumb goatee.

“That’s fucked!” Clark sounded even further away.

“No big deal. That gym sucks, anyway. Bunch of roided out past-their-prime freaks. I don’t need their shit. Anyway, I’ve got it all on my feed,” Max said, swiping across his phone’s surface. “C’mon out here and let me show you.”

Max heard some wrestling beyond the two rickety wooden doors to the crawlspace, then Clark cried out. “Clark?” Max said. “Clark?” He dropped to his knees, pointing his phone’s flashlight into the dark area that led under Clark’s uncle’s house. After no response, Max considered bailing–this project was Clark’s and his uncle’s, anyway, so it didn’t seem like the kind of situation where Max could risk getting grime on his expensive gym clothes or a scrape on his smooth, flawless skin.

But then again, Max needed another bottle of tren, and Clark was his hookup. Max couldn’t remember the combination to Clark’s gear safe, either. “Fuck!” he said, dropping down and crawling into the dingy stench of mildew.

After crawling nearly ten-feet into the storage area (“Who the fuck designed this shit, anyway?”), passing old fishing gear, lawn equipment and plenty of disintegrating boxes, Max found exactly where Clark had ended up: a hole formed where the wood had rotted out. Max shined his flashlight into the hole, shocked that he couldn’t see the bottom. He surmised that he was probably under the kitchen of the house. It was strange that Clark’s uncle’s place didn’t have a basement, but apparently it had caverns underneath that were at least 30 feet deep.

“Max!” came Clark’s panicked cry, echoing up the hole. “Max, throw down some rope. There’s a ton in the garage. You’re not gonna believe what I found down here!”

When Max finally found some rope and tossed it down to Clark, he had expected his gym buddy to climb back up, but Clark urged Max to climb down. “Seriously! This thing I found… I don’t know how to explain it… but it looks valuable as FUCK!”

Max sighed, tying one end of the rope to a support beam and tossing the other below. He shimmied down with one hand, his phone in the other, livestreaming the entire experience. “So my dumb-ass buddy Clark apparently has a Goonies-style network of caves underneath his house… and I guess he found something really cool. I’m basically just doing it for the extra upper-body workout with the rope work…”

Before he reached the bottom, he had 600 people watching his stream.

The spongy ground beneath stunk like the inside of an old protein shaker, so much that Max had to hold his tank top over his face to even continue. Clark goaded him along, down a winding corridor, to a large metallic pod.

“The fuck is this?” Max said into his phone, tilting it so his audience could see what they discovered. It looked like an egg, about four-feet high. Clark cleaned some of the murk off the top of it; underneath was a clear panel, like a window. Suddenly it burst open like a lid.

Strangely, the inside of the opened pod smelled… sweet, like lilacs.

“You shitting me?” Max said, his eyes wide (albeit, playing up his reaction for the camera). “What is this, some old NASA shit?”

“I’m thinking it’s alien!” Clark said. Max’s muscled buddy reached into the pod, patting down the inside. “It’s soft in here. Like, spongy. Warm. Feels kinda nice… like a lady…” As he climbed into the pod, giggling at the odd sensation, the lid suddenly slammed down on him.

“Fuck!” Max said. He instantly ended the stream (in case something bad happened, he wanted no legal implications) and started pounding on the outside of the pod. He could see Clark through the clear hatch, beating on the inside. Suddenly, it lit up with an eerie blue light. Max jumped back as he felt static electricity tingling around him.

Strange symbols started flashing along the top and bottom of the orb as the hollow chamber started to fill with some sort of blue goo. Max tried punching and kicking the lid as Clark panicked, trying to keep from drowning. He tried to pry the lid open but he couldn’t find the seam. In seconds it was over; Clark was completely submerged.

Instead of the panicked look of a drowning man, Clark seemed… sedate, almost dopey, with a smile on his face. He was still blinking, floating back and forth blissfully. “You okay in there, buddy? You… still alive?” Clark was regarding his hands as if he’d been drugged, completely ignoring Max’s attempts to get his attention.

Max heard what sounded like garbled static next to him and he screamed, leaping back as he saw a glowing skeletal form appear next to him. He turned and ran for the rope but the skeleton followed.

Somehow it appeared at the rope before he got there. It held up two hands, then spoke aloud: “Is this… easier… to understand?” Max backed away slowly. “Can you… understand… me?” asked the eerie apparition.

“...the fuck are you? What happened to Clark?”

A green light projected from the skeleton’s eye sockets, seeming to scan Max from head to toe. His phone suddenly vibrated. It gave his leg a mild shock.

“Fuck!” he said, yanking his phone from his pocket and tossing it to the ground.

He was shocked when he looked up to see the skeleton was gone–and Chris Bumstead stood in its place.

“Ith thith better? Doeth thith form pleathe you?” Cbum asked.

Max closed his eyes, shook his head, and slapped himself a few times, but Cbum was still there. “How the fuck… what is going on?”

“Pleathe excuthe me,” Cbum said with a warm smile. “I’m an intelligent perthona governing the energon pod you dithcovered back there. I’ve been offline for…” Cbum cocked his head to the side, a faraway look in his eye, before blurting out, “...two-hundred forty-nine yearth. Back when my creator landed on your planet, there wath no intelligent life here, but when it developed, he hid me below. I believe he thought my capabilitieth would be dangerouth for leth developed life formth than hith.”

“So… you’re… like… a robot hologram?” Max asked.

Cbum nodded.

“A robot hologram Chris Bumstead…”

Cbum nodded, then hit a double biceps pose. The hoodie he was wearing flickered and faded, revealing his impressive (although semi-transparent) physique. Suddenly green light flashed so brightly Max couldn’t see. When he could open his eyes, he realized he and Cbum were in the garage. The pod was behind them.

Cbum waved a hand and the filth along the outside of the pod suddenly flaked away. “Theeth acthunth have thubthtantionally drained my energy levelth,” Cbum said. Max glanced inside the pod to see Max, still floating with a dopey grin on his face. He looked like he had dropped twenty pounds on a rapid shredding diet.

“Wait… is Clark your power source?”

Cbum nodded. “I employ thentient organic matter ath a power thourthe,” he said.

Max pulled out his phone. “Can you… like… pretend to BE Cbum? And, like… tell people that I’m one of the greatest up-and-coming physique competitors of ALL TIME?”

Cbum held up his hand. Green energy crackled from it, tickling along the surface of Max’s phone. “I have a better idea. How would you like the power to thmite your enemieth?”

*

Chris Rohr strutted around the perimeter of Global Gym’s external weight area. The heavily muscled man had cut the sleeves off his employee polo, revealing massive, fully-tatooed arms. He was nearly 50 years old but still spiked his silvery-blonde hair like he was 22 again. He fistbumped Eddie and Sean, the two powerhouses who were psyching each other up for a heavy squat. He gave a thumbs up to Stefan, the absurdly powerful 25-year old goliath who was pulling t-bar rows of 9 plates for what seemed like 40 consecutive reps, his body spewing sweat.

Rohr paused by the deadlift platform to watch as Shiro, the massively built powerlifter, grunted as he reached the apex of his lift before tossing the massive pile of steel to the ground. It hit the ground so hard the earth seemed to shake.

“Fuck!” Rohr said, fist-bumping the burly man, slapping his rock-solid musclegut as an act of praise. “That was fucking HEAVY weight!”

Then the earth shook again.

“The fuck?” Rohr and Shiro looked around. Every workout in the gym ceased. Someone shouted that it was an earthquake, but a few moments later, they realized what it was.

“Holy fuck–it’s that fucking instagram kid you kicked out the other day!”

Rohr clapped his fists together, ready to rumble. “Oh yeah? Where is he? I’ll–”

Suddenly, looming about them, was Max–although he looked to be 30 feet tall! Even without the massive increase in height making him giant-sized, his proportions seemed to have bloomed: his shoulders seemed wider and as round as football pads, his arms seemingly stuffed with muscle, his waist narrow, his abs deep and shredded. He was naked except a tarp he wore as a loin cloth, which only covered his junk from those in front of him. The bodybuilders beneath him got a dead-on look at his big cock and balls swinging back and forth.

“Look how fucking puny you all look!” his voice boomed as he clapped his hands together, the force projecting a powerful wind that blew across all of the musclebound gym-goers’ faces. “I thought this was the gym where the big guys liked to lift?”

Two well-built men who had been bench-pressing before the giant arrived leapt off the equipment and ran for the parking lot as fast as their thick quads would allow. “Where the fuck do you think YOU’RE going?” Max bellowed, stomping a foot down. The force knocked the two men off their feet. He easily snatched them up by their shirts and dropped them back next to the bench they’d abandoned. “You’d better unrack those weights unless you want your gym membership revoked!”

The two roided-out men stared at each other, paralyzed with fear, before Max stomped the ground near them. They screamed as they were both knocked into the air for a moment, then they scampered around, hastily putting their weights away.

“How much you boys squatting?” Max said, approaching Eddie and Sean. “Not bad, not bad,” he said, grabbing the bar with two fingers and lifting it with ease. “Not even a warmup for my little finger, of course, but y’know… you LITTLE guys should be impressed. Maybe.” He flicked his fingers and the fully-loaded bar launched high into the air, coming down to leave a dent in the concrete below.

Then he grabbed the Eddie and Sean by their weight belts and hoisted them into the air. The two men, their thick bodies stuffed with muscle, just screamed and flailed as Max curled them with ease, puffing breath with each rep. “What do you think guys? Maybe a nice set of 50 to get the blood pumping?” When he was finished, he walked over to the Global Gym billboard and hung each of the hulking men on its corners by their belts. They whimpered and clung to it, too terrified to look down at the thirty foot drop to the parking lot below.

“All right, let’s see what else we’ve got going on over here,” Max said as he looked around. He squatted down, grabbing a treadmill, and poked it with his thumb. “Damn, buttons are too small. Cbum, can you jack this up to full speed for me?”

The holographic Mr. Olympia appeared above Max’s shoulder. “Right away, thir,” he said, blinking. The motor of the treadmill whined loudly as it hit top speed.

“Okay now, let’s see,” he said, scanning the gym for another victim. He found Stefan. “Ah, I remember you! You’re about the same age as me. You USED to talk about how much bigger than me you were. You still think you’re bigger, little guy?” He grabbed Stefan and held him up with one hand, dangling him over the treadmill. “Hey Cbum, how fast is this treadmill going?”

“I’ve amplified it’th capabilitieth, tho it’th theventy mileth-per-hour,” Cbum said.

“Perfect! See ya later, Stefan!”

The young bodybuilder yelped as Max let him go. As soon as he hit the smoking cardio equipment, he was launched into the air, sailing into the blue sky toward the horizon. Max laughed heartily, stomping the ground and pounding his chest. “Hey Cbum, did he go splat?”

“No, he landed in a tree. It’th brancheth broke hith fall. He’th got a few scrapes and bruitheth, pluth he twithted hith ankle.”

“Aw, big fella’s gonna have to take some time off leg day! Probably isn’t going to make his next show.

He was so distracted by his mayhem that he didn’t see Rohr grabbing a 45-pound plate and approaching him. The gym manager swung it down on Max’s shin, smashing it hard. The giant cried out and toppled down. The bodybuilders scattered to avoid getting crushed.

“That’s right, you overgrown bitch!” Rohr said as Max struggled to stand.

“You… little SHIT!”

“It appearth he hath fractured your tibia,” Cbum said. “I can repair it if you’d like.”

“Of COURSE I want it repaired!” Max shouted. His leg glowed green and the bruising faded, the swelling instantly dissipating. He stood up again, wiping the blood off his now perfectly whole leg. “You’re gonna pay for that, you little shit,” Max said, snatching Rohr by the leg and yanking him into the air. “I think I’m gonna swallow you WHOLE for that one…” He held Rohr aloft, opening wide, dangling him over his gaping maw.

“You’re gonna taste GOOD little man. I don’t even think I’m gonna chew–you’re gonna hang out in my gut for awhile. Thank god it’s a CHEAT DAY for me!” He started to lower Rohr into his mouth, but the smaller man struggled, flailing. Max punched Rohr in the face with his tongue a few times, hoping to stun him into submission, then tried to force him into his mouth.

Max felt a shiver over his body. Rohr suddenly felt heavier–and too big to fit into his mouth.

“What the fuck?” he said, yanking the kicking and punching Rohr away from his face. He looked down, just over 20 feet now.

“It theemth my power level ith getting low,” Cbum said. “I will require a new lifeform to continue operating at thith level of performanthe.”

Max looked around. He had to act fast–if he shrank too much more, he had a feeling these bodybuilders were going to revolt. “Okay then.” He grabbed Shiro in one hand, Rohr in the other. “Cbum, can you teleport me home?”

“If I do tho, I’ll be unable to maintain your amplified thize and thrength,” Cbum said.

“Fuck it,” Max said. “Looks like it’s gonna be a cardio day.” He reared back and started running. The earth shook with every thunderous footfall.

By the time he had reached Clark’s uncle’s house, he was only about twelve feet tall and it was a struggle to carry the two massive men in his arms. Cbum opened the garage door for him and Max ducked and ran in. He tossed Rohr against the wall, then threw Shiro down and stood on his chest. “Open the hatch, Cbum!”

It popped open. There was only a small puddle of blue goo within the pod, just a few ounces. “Shit, is Clark dead?”

“Clark hath been fully abthorbed by my thythtemth,” Cbum said. “Hith knowledge ith now merged with mine, hith conthiouth mind now a part of me. I can assume hith identity at any time you’d like.”

“Very cool,” Max said. He grabbed Shiro and forcibly shoved him into the pod, slamming the hatch down. He groaned as he suddenly found himself only 6 feet tall again, facing a very angry Rohr, who had grabbed a shovel from the wall and was charging at him.

“Cbum, help me out here!”

The shovel swung threw the air–but stopped inches from Max’s face. It seemed frozen in time, Rohr’s whole body still locked in one moment, all momentum paused. Max glanced inside the pod and saw Shiro’s euphoric face as he was subsumed in blue goo.

“What’s it like for the guys inside your pod?” Max asked.

“They feel an incredibly pleathant thenthation, analogouth to thexual orgathm, but incredibly intenthe and conthant,” Cbum replied.

“Well, enjoy, beefy boy,” Max said, drumming his hands on the lid. “And as for YOU,” Max said, approaching the time-stopped musclehead who was only a moment away from knocking Max out. He reached out and yanked down Rohr’s shorts, laughing at the older muscleheads shrimpy cock and balls. He pulled out his phone and started taking pictures of it.

“Jutht to let you know,” Cbum said, “keeping him temporally frozen ITH draining my power levelth.”

“No worries,” Max said, slapping Rohr’s still sneering face and laughing. “We’ll find PLENTY of fresh power for you back at the gym. In the meantime, I’ve got a REALLY good idea of how I want this guy to be.”

The bodybuilders still at the gym struggled to cope with what they had survived. Firefighters raised ladders to help Eddie and Sean down from their precarious spots while and EMT was dispatched to help Stefan with his injuries. The police scratched their heads as the bulging, steroid-pumped men tried to describe the GIANT who had caused all of the chaos and destruction.

“We swear!” one neckless brute said. “He was big as a building. He tossed us around like we were toys!”

The cops looked at each other, skeptical, until the ground started shaking again.

Max approached again, this time 40 feet tall, his muscle blown up so huge he made even Cbum look underdeveloped. “I’m back, bitches! Check it out. I brought your boy Rohr with me!”

Max pointed to the tattoo on his chest–Rohr, in graphic detail, cowering in fear, fully nude, his penis depicted as a pitifully puny thing. Even a puddle of urine had been rendered in the tattoo, collecting below the cowardly man’s feet. “He can still see, hear and feel, right Cbum?”

“Yeth, but I will need a new power thourthe VERY thoon,” Cbum responded.

“Plenty of them right here,” Max said as he stomped up, put his hands on his hips, and unleashed a blast of urine at the men still quaking from his last attack. He knocked some firefighters right off their ladder, blasted some cops off their feet, then showered the remaining bodybuilders just for good measure. “You’re streaming this to all my fans, right Cbum?” Max asked.

“Yeth thir,” Cbum said, his open eyes functioning as the camera as Max’s thousands of fans tried to figure out how he was accomplishing this spectacular feat.