"A wish, huh?" Tank grinned with amusement, "To be large and in charge!" He said with a predictable laugh, "Can you do that, huh?"
Suddenly, the sound of leather was creaking and Tank's perspective looked off. When he stood, he realized he was much taller than everyone in the room. He was exactly seven feet tall.
His large gut spilled over his belt when suddenly a loud pop echoed through the club. Tank's belt gave way. "What the... What the hell?" Tank cried out.
Ormann stood. "You said you wanted to be large and in charge. I've made you large..." and he motioned towards a neon sign by the bar that said TANK'S ALE before he continued, "and in charge."
"You mean.. I own this place now? Damn... Well... Damn.... You really did mean it, huh? Damn..." Tank kept saying as he looked down at himself. "Well, buddy... I think..."
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