"Oh, yeah?" you ask challengingly. "Then you'd better have your money ready, little brother. Go!"
You take off at once, running hard for kid's castle. Alex might be stronger than you (an impossible concept which is going to be blowing your mind for months to come), but your longer legs give you a substantial advantage in a race.
You're running flat-out, doing a good job of controlling your breathing, when you catch sight of something in your peripheral vision on your right. It's Alex! He accelerates to your side and looks over at you, grinning. With an effort you increase your pace, but in spite of this Alex actually pulls ahead of you! In a second you're staring at his sculpted, beautifully defined back muscles as he sprints forward like a rocket, steadily widening the gap between the two of you. You pour on eveything you have left, only to see Alex outdistance you even more. Damn it, how can such a short kid be so fast?!?!
Alex is shooting past the volleyball players like a Polaris missile now while you trail far behind in his wake. They actually pause their game to stare and a couple of the girls giggle as their gazes shift between you and your little brother. Your face reddens in embarassment and you try without sucess to gain ground.
Alex beats you to the goal by a good hundred feet. When you finallly arrive, panting, you find him standing there with his hands on his hips and a big smile on his face. He isn't even out of breath!
"Toldja you couldn't do it," he reminds you smugly.
You don't have the air to frame a reply to that and the little six year-old sitting and building the castle interjects into the silence.
"Are you Superboy?" he ask, looking up at Alex with wide eyes.
You do manage a snort of contempt at this. Although you've gotta admit, aside from the fact that Alex's black hair is curly instead of straight, he does indeed resemble the famous comic book character. Except, of course, he's much more muscular than Superboy has ever been portrayed as being.
"Yes, I am," Alex playfully tells the enthralled munchkin.
"Then where's your costume?" the child asks curiously.
"I left it at home so I could get some sun," your younger brother explains and the kid nods in understanding.
"You can crush my sand castle if you want," the boy offers shyly.
Alex accepts the invitation, smashing the sand structure with two stomps. The little boy responds by dropping his head and kissing the tanned feet that crushed his castle. Then he scrambles up and runs off down the beach.
You're inexplicably disturbed by the scene; something about it troubles you in a way you can't quite understand. So when Alex looks to you with a laugh and says, "Kids!", your reply is a sour one.
"You're still a kid too," you remind him snidely.
The expression of good-natured mirth leaves your sibling's face. He takes a step toward you and you have to fight not to retreat before him. With his amazing physique Alex is truly intimidating now, much more so than even the biggest jock in your high school. And from the look of him he's probably way stronger than any high school althelete could ever hope to be.
Staring up at you Alex flexes his very deep chest and then begins to smoothly bounce his soccer ball-sized pecs. "You really think I'm still a kid?" he asks quietly and you have no answer for him.
Fortunately you're spared the necessity of giving one as the guys and girls from the volleyball game crowd around, focusing on Alex and ignoring you.
"You're Alex King, aren't you?" the red-headed girl aks excitedly. "The most successful test subject from the Gilgamesh project?"
"That's me!" your brother confirms cockily.
An excited babble breaks loose among the teens and suddenly they all seem to have questions for your little stud sibling.
"When is the treatment going to be available to the public?" a six foot two blond who looks like a weight-lifter demands.
"It should be available by December," Alex assures him. "It'll make the perfect Christmas gift . . . if you have someone you want to spend a million and a half dollars on!"
A million point five? That's how much the treatment is going to cost? And Alex got ten million from them just to take it?
"Speaking of money, how much have you made since you took the treatment?" another boy asks. "Didn't you get stock options as part of the promotional deal? And Dad says Atlas' stock has split five times!"
Alex shrugs his exceedingly broad shoulders and tries to look modest. "Between the stock, the endorsements, and everything else . . . well, let's just say that after the first hundred million you kind of stop counting."
No way! Your little brother can't be that rich! Can he?
"I thought the government developed the treatment," a blond girl asks in confusion.
"It was a government researcher who made the intial breakthrough," Alex corrects. "The development of the program, though, was done through a public-private partnership with Atlas Pharmaceuticals. They provided most of the capital and they get the distribution rights. With the budget crisis the government couldn't afford to spend the money to build these cannons!" Alex shouts, proudly flexing his massive, eighteen inch biceps.
A ripple of ooohs and aaahhs pass through the group and even you can't deny how absolutely magnificent Alex appears, like a bronzed, preteen Hercules.
"So how strong are you?" the redhead whispers, rolling her shoulder seductively. For frick's sake, she's flirting with a twelve year-old! He won't even understand that she's coming on to him!
"Why don't I show you?" Alex asks slyly. He cups her bottom in his left hand and effortlessly lifts it up to his eye-level. Then he does the same with his right hand and the hotter blond. Both girls squeal and run their hands across Alex's bulging arm muscles.
You can only shake your head in disbelief, overwhelmed by the utterly insane turn your life has taken. The puny little brother you picked on all of these years has become a world famous, incredibly wealthy mega-hunk, holding up and two of the hottest girls you've ever seen in each of his powerful hands. Could things possibly get any crazier?
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