Scared from the blue haze he saw in front of his eyes, Justin dropped the gun out of his hands. It fell on the ground, not broken. When the haze disappeared, everyone around the table was staring at Justin with eyes and mouths open.
“Justin, honey, are you feeling alright?” his mother asked.
“Uh, yeah, I guess so…what was that?” Justin asked a bit dozy.
“A strange blue ray came out of the gun, and it hit you!” Davy explained.
“Hmm, strange. I feel nothing! I feel fine actually…”, Justin concluded, “I guess it was nothing. Let’s continue our dinner…”
Justin picked up the gun from the floor and put it back in the box. Then he put the box aside on the ground and went back to his seat. “Man I’m starving! Is there any meat left?”
“Just a minute”, Justin’s dad said, “I’ve almost got a rib eye ready for you!”
The whole family continued eating, some more than others. To Debby’s surprise, Justin ate more than usual. He was beginning on his fourth steak; usually he’s full after his second. She figured he must just be hungry from work.
After dinner, while Debby and Amber were cleaning off the table, all the boys were still at the table. Dylan, the athletic twin, had been eyeing Jerome’s upper arm up and down all throughout dinner and finally dared to ask him a question.
“Jerome?”
“Yeah buddy, what is it?”
“How big are your arms?”
Jerome laughed. He was flattered that his best friend’s little brother noticed the hard work he had put in his arms. “These babies, the last time I’ve checked they were close to 15 inches, flexed.”
“And how much time do you work out to get those arms?”
“I workout about four times a week…”
Justin laughed.
“What are you laughing at?” Jerome sneered at Justin “If you finally get your lazy ass off the ground and start to work out with me like I proposed over a dozen times, maybe then you can have arms like these!” He lifted both his arms in the air and flexed his biceps to nice 15 inch peaks.
Dylan’s eyes grew wide. “Wow! Can I touch them?”
“Sure thing!” Jerome said as Dylan approached him. “It’s nice to see that at least someone in this family appreciates hard work and dedication!”
Justin did not respond. Davy, the silent twin, adjusted his glasses as he looked at his big brother. Was he seeing things or did his shirt look tighter on his body?
“Can you give me some tips on building bigger arms?”, Dylan asked Jerome, “Coach said I need to grow more muscles if I want to perform the exercises properly…”
“Sure thing!”, Jerome replied, “but first let me see what you’ve got!”
Dylan obliged and flexed his arms as hard as he could. A nice, separated, biceps popped up.
“Wow, impressive! We need to get those measured!” Jerome suggested.
“Already on it!” Dylan yelled as he ran inside to find a tape measure. After a minute he returned. He flexed his arms again and Jerome put the tape around it.
“Wow, impressive kid! 13.5 inch! For a 15-year-old that’s impressive! They might even be bigger than Justin’s!” Jerome joked, knowing how much trouble his best buddy had with developing his body.
“You think so? Justin, flex yours!” Dylan asked excited.
“Nah, I don’t want to…” he responded.
“You don’t want to get humiliated in front of your little brother…” Jerome added.
Davy, now mesmerized by the body of his bigger brother, clearly noticed something was up. Given his comic book knowledge, he easily figured out the gun must have been part of it. He intervened.
“Why don’t you guys arm-wrestle…?”
Justin, Jerome and Dylan all looked at the geeky kid.
“That way, you can easily decide who’s the strongest of you all” he added.
“That’s not such a crazy idea!” Dylan said as he lined up his arm towards his bigger brother. “Us first; the winner against Jerome!”
“But Jerome’s clearly gonna win from me…” Justin decided.
“But who said you can beat me; maybe I’m stronger than you…” his little brother responded full of confidence.
Justin reluctantly agreed. As he placed his non-flexed arm on the table, both Jerome and Dylan’s eyes grew wide. “Dude, what’s that?”
Justin, unaware of his physical changes, looked down at his arm and saw veins crawling all over his arm, which in general looked way bigger than before. His mouth fell open, but he decided to play along. He refrained himself from flexing as he said “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared all of a sudden…?”
Dylan, not scared for the challenge, positioned his arm opposite his brother’s and the two locked hands.
“On three”, Jerome, the referee, decided, “one…two…three!”
Dylan started pushing his brother’s hand down, but to both his and Jerome’s surprise, the arm didn’t budge. He pressed harder, but the counter force was too strong. He looked up at Justin’s face, who looked relax. “So when are you gonna apply some force?” Justin asked jokingly.
Dylan could not understand; he was sure his bigger brother was as thin as a twig. He had muscles from gymnastics, his brother had none. All the times before they arm-wrestled, he had won. How come Justin suddenly contains these huge arms? He started applying more pressure by throwing his entire weight into the game. The arm of Justin budged a little bit. It was working. He noticed Justin’s face change as Dylan was winning.
As Justin’s arm was halfway down, Justin’s free hand rolled up his sleeve, exposing his full upper arm for all the boys to see. The muscle in his arm didn’t look flexed at all. Justin looked his little brother straight in the eye and whispered: “my turn!”
Then, as if out of nowhere, his arm grew into a clear cut biceps peak. The force Dylan was fighting against had ten folded; he couldn’t stand a chance. Within a second, Justin has overtaken the match and pinned his little brother’s 13.5 inch arm to the table.
“Dude! Your arm! It’s massive!” Jerome exclaimed in shock.
Justin could only laugh. He didn’t know, until the match, what was happening to him, but now he had an explanation. After he shot himself with the gun, he felt funny inside. A tingling sensation all over his body. He discarded it as nothing, as it wasn’t bothering him, but he knew something was up. Perhaps he was getting a cold; nothing to worry about. But then he felt his clothes getting tighter and this massive arm appeared out of his sleeve. He knew he could beat his brother. His self-confidence grew.
“Thanks! Now don’t tell me you’re afraid to go against me…?” he asked Jerome.
“No, of course not, bring it on! I bet I’m still stronger than you!”
Dylan, rubbing his arm from the pain, went to sit next to his twin brother, who looked in awe at Justin’s ripped upper arm. Davy knew something was up, and it turned out right!
The two best friends positioned themselves opposite each other; with their right arms on the table they interlocked hands.
“Can someone count us off?” Jerome asked the twins.
“Sure thing!”, Dylan agreed, “one…two…three!”
The two boys started off their match; it was obvious to Justin Jerome was a better match than his little brother. It would be difficult to beat him, based on the force he had to apply. In both boys’ arms the biceps popped up like balloons getting inflated.
After a minute, not moving an inch, Justin was certain he met his equal. He tried one last time to push everything he got out of his arm and…
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