The arm-wrestling match was an equal duel between the best buddies since kindergarten. Jerome’s naturally trained, chocolate brown pipe was an equal match against Justin’s recently acquired milk white python.
“Man, look at them go! Who knew Justin was this strong…I sure didn’t!” Dylan told his twin brother.
“Well, Justin wasn’t really before…” Davy said.
“Before what?”
“Oh never mind, you’ll never understand…”
Dylan didn’t have the energy to argue with his brother; he was too much involved with the match of his big brother.
“They haven’t moved their arms like…in the last 2 minutes. Wow!”
“Oh, I might know what can help that…” Davy said as he left his seat. He went straight to the box, took out the gun and pointed it indiscreetly at Justin. Then he fired.
Justin, unaware of what his little brother was doing, looked into Jerome’s eyes. He saw the brute strength in his expression; he never knew he would be able to match that. Next he looked down at his arm; the arm that felt like it didn’t belong to him. He was starting to become curious what the rest of his body must look like now, as he figured his arm wasn’t the only thing that got more muscular. His bulging biceps, exposed as he had rolled up his sleeve, was throbbing with power. Veins grew larger, encapsulating it, feeding it with blood and oxygen.
Then the blue haze returned. For a second he was blinded with blue light. As his vision returned he looked around to see his little brother standing there with the gun pointed at his body. He knew what has happened, and he couldn’t be more happy with it. “This will show Jerome!”
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