For over three minutes now, the boys were still locked into the same position, unable to push the other down. Justin, however, felt more energetic than before. He had a good reason, as he was just zapped for a second time by the strange gun his dad received just moments ago.
As before, it must take some time, but Justin felt extra strength building up in his body. He looked at Jerome, who was looking down at his own arm, inspecting its bulging biceps. Apparently his best buddy had not noticed what Davy, his youngest brother, had done to him. Then he looked at Dylan, who was the referee of the match. He was so pre-occupied with comparing his arms with those of Jerome and Justin, that he hadn’t noticed a thing either.
Justin looked back at Davy again; who winked. He couldn’t be more proud of his little brother as this match otherwise had no end. And this ending fancied him; he couldn’t wait to finally beat his friend who had always been the strongest of the two.
Another minute had passed and Justin started to feel the effects of the ray. The tingling sensation returned all over his body. This weakened him ever so slightly, opening up an opportunity for Jerome to attack. Jerome, now grinning from ear to ear, saw Justin’s arm move closer and closer to the table. But after he passed the 45 degree angle, the force in Justin’s arm suddenly increased. The grin disappeared from his face as he looked at his buddy.
Now Justin was grinning from ear to ear. “You almost had me there…”
Jerome looked at Justin’s biceps which was once again crawling with pulsating veins. He blinked as he couldn’t believe what he saw; did he really see the biceps grow ever so slightly?!
Jerome started to get tired, but he wasn’t ready to give up. He adjusted his seating and started to put some body weight into the game. Without success. Justin pushed Jerome’s arm to the starting position ever so slowly. No matter how much force Jerome applied, he couldn’t get it to stop.
As the two arms reached the starting position again, Justin looked Jerome straight in the eyes. “Are you ready?”
“For what?”
“This!” Justin yelled as he slammed the arm of his buddy to the table. The biceps in his arm exploded in size, ripping his rolled up sleeve apart. “GOT YA!” he yelled from excitement as Jerome quickly pulled away his arm from the table. The last, unexpected, blow had hurt and he tried to shake it off.
Dylan, still sitting at the side, couldn’t believe what his eyes saw. His mouth fell open as he heard Justin’s arm rip open part of his shirt.
“Wow! Bro! What has happened to you!? You’re ripped!” he yelled.
Davy could only smile as he witnessed the hulking power of his big brother. And he knew what unleashed it; he was holding it in his hands.
“I’ve got myself some well-deserved growth spurts, guys!” Justin tried to explain as both Dylan as well as Jerome were mesmerized by his right arm. “Still not afraid of me?” he asked Jerome as he flexed his right arm into an even more impressive peak than before.
“Dude, this is just unbelievable! You can never be bigger than me…that’s impossible…!”
“Wanne measure it?” Justin said filled with self-confident as he positioned his flexed arm in front of Jerome’s face. “Or better yet, why don’t we compare?!”
Jerome didn’t want to, but Justin didn’t let him off the hook that easily. With his left hand he grabbed Jerome’s arm and bent it as if he was flexing. “Come on, work with me, or are you afraid to be humiliated?”
Jerome knew it was the exact same phrase he had used on Justin before the arm-wrestling match, so he couldn’t bail. He flexed his still impressive 15 inch arm next to Justin’s, but as soon as he did, he knew it was no match for the now 16.5 inch pythons of Justin.
Justin could only laugh out loud at the size difference between the two arms. With his free hand he squeezed Jerome’s biceps and asked “Is this all you’ve got?”
Humiliated, Jerome punched Justin in the stomach. It was an old habit they used to do to each other when they had a disagreement. However before when Jerome punched Justin, he felt nothing more than an untrained, flat belly. Now he was punching something hard.
“Dude! What are you hiding under there?!” Jerome said as he lifted up the lower half of Justin’s now extremely tight shirt. “Jesus Christ! That’s what I call an eight-pack!”
Hidden underneath the fabric of the size M t-shirt was a row of abdominals only seen on those fitness commercials. Jerome could clearly count 8 individual abs, which were visible due to his extremely low body fat.
“Dude, take off your shirt!” Jerome insisted.
Justin, now as curious about his body as any other person in the backyard, removed his shirt in a second. What he revealed was the most perfectly chiseled torso in the entire neighborhood; rivaling those of professional male fitness models. His shoulders had widened and his pecs had grown into an impressive set.
“Let me try something…” Justin said as he concentrated. Within seconds, he mastered the famous pec dance; alternating his left and right pec to flex.
“Dude, that’s awesome!”, Jerome said as he inspected his buddy’s body, “What’s your secret?”
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