This choice: A large canister filled with a tasty-smelling powder. • Go Back... "Why, hellooo," you chuckle softly to yourself as you pull out what looks to be a rather large canister, like one of those jumbo 'whey protein isolates' jugs your girlfriend's been trying to shove into your paws for the last few months. You remember the taste, like milk, but without the creamy goodness. Not to mention it was kind of chalky going down. There must be a ton of calories in this thing, not that your grumbling tummy would object to that. You unscrew the top, noticing that the seal hadn't been ripped off, just a slight puncture in it. What a waste, to throw out an entire canister because of a little packaging damage. Oh well, one man's trash is another's dinner.
It's almost immediately that you realize that as you sniff it out, the contents of the jug is nothing like you've ever experienced. It didn't smell like whey powder. It's aroma was pungent and spicy, very alluring. You rip the rest of the seal off, revealing a fine, red, dust-like powder. Definitely not whey powder. You close the top and try to inspect the labels, trying to understand just what you were dealing with. You feel a bit miffed when you realize the letters aren't in any Latin-based language. If you had to guess, it was some sort of Cyrillic text, maybe Russian or Ukrainian; nothing you could read. 'Лучше-Ю' Whatever the hell that means. You open the canister again and your stomach growls. It smelled pretty damn good.
Perhaps it was curiosity, perhaps pure stupidity, but you flit your tongue out and take a cursory lick at the stuff. The moment the tip of your tongue touches the stuff, your senses go into overdrive. It was salty, sweet, sour, spicy, every flavour in every spectrum, all firing off, not at the same time, but in rapid succession. And it was wonderful. What is this stuff? You smack your lips. Well, whatever it was, it's definitely dinner!
You see a little handle, a tiny scoop. It saddens you to think that that was the recommended serving. Perhaps its meant to be diluted in water? Whatever it was meant for, you take one heaping scoop and dig in. The powder melts on your tongue quickly and you lap it up, almost huffing it up your nose. You sure feel like a crack addict, the way you're practically inhaling the stuff. By the time you polish the scoop, your head's abuzz with euphoria. Oddly enough, you don't feel hungry anymore. You know that can't be possible, your stomach's not even close to being full from that 'meal,' yet, you feel satisfied, even though you could probably chug the rest of contents of the canister right now.
You wonder how anyone could throw something like this away. This stuff was definitely a keeper. You seal the canister back up and sling it underneath your arm as you hop back out of the dumpster. You hide as you put your clothes back off, straightening out your tie and dusting off your vest. No one'll be the wiser.
***
You quickly stash the canister in your office, hiding your little treasure from any possible prying eyes. You know Kaz is still around, the light to his desk space was on. And if that short-stuff was still around then that meant Noah was likely hanging around as well. You sit down in your chair and feel... different. You flick your mouse, your machine humming to life as the screen pops up to the bare-bones presentation you've been preparing. You sigh at the open notepad document, a little message from Jackie before she left. She must've snuck into your office while you were out getting... dinner. You groan as you close the window to 'Don't scare me like this, Gabe! -->' The arrow pointing to your crappy attempt at a presentation.
Normally, you'd be shitting a brick right now. But, you feel... oddly calm. Like clockwork, your brain fires off as soon as your paws hit your keyboard, a stroke of genius taking over. You bang out slides like there's no tomorrow. Hell... at the moment your minds going off in tangents, mapping out every possibility the investors could take. Like Deep Blue, you're thinking fifty moves ahead, then a hundred more. You suddenly feel like you know just what to say. You can feel a grin growing on your muzzle, your confidence growing in your ability to sell this pitch.
While you work, you notice a flicker of a shadow. From it's shape, you deduce who it is, even when you've only had a glimmer of it. Without even turning, you say, "Hey, Kaz."
"You didn't even let me knock," the Shiba Inu chuckles. "So how's the presentation coming, Boss?"
"Good," you grunt. You have a feeling the dog's creeping up, and sure enough you can see his fluffy head in your periphery. With blazing speed, you assemble another slide and move onto the next.
"Wait, wait," the dog stammers, "Did you even check-"
"Triple-checked it," you reply. It takes you a moment to realize you've been doing that the whole time, like it's just routine.
"Do you even know what you're going to say?"
You stream your thoughts out as you complete the slide you're currently on. You go into detail about market trends, calculating the percent increases, a gauging the valuation of your company accordingly. Hell, the numbers you're spouting are better than the one's you've written down previously. Needless to say, Kazu was impressed.
"Okay..." the Shiba says, a little lost from the information overload. "Just one thing, Gabe."
"Hmm?" you hum. What could've you gotten wrong. You were 110% your numbers were correct.
The dog pushes at your back and pulls at your shoulders. "You're slouching," he chuckles. You grin, of course... Leave up to Kazu to correct something like that.
"Heh, thanks, Kaz."
"Not a problem, Gabe," he replies. "Should get some rest, 'kay, buddy?"
"Eh, you know me," you chortle, continuing to type like a madman.
"Yeah, yeah," Kazu says dismissively. "Anyways, good night, Gabe."
"Mmhmm, take care, Kazu. You and Noah be safe, 'kay?"
"Got it," he chimes. Moments later the light to his desk goes off and you can hear the hushed voices of the dog and his marten making their exit.
All the while, you continue to belt this presentation out. As you finish the last slide, putting the finishing touches on it, you glance at the clock. Nine-thirty. You do a double take, no way... You got back at around 8:45, had you really only spend 45 minutes on this thing? You finish the last slide and begin to wheel through the rest of the presentation. It looked good, polished, well designed. No way... How could you produce something of this quality so quickly? You go over it again, even practicing what you were going to say out loud. Damn... it was good, really good, and you're usually really critical of yourself for these sorts of things.
You bite you lip. It had to be that powder, you're not sure why, but you have a feeling it was. It's like... you're just a better version of you. It takes you a moment to realize that your back's straight, your posture perfect, just like Kazu had adjusted it to be. You had planned to work on this presentation the whole night. But now... you don't know. You feel like you could do a whole week's worth of work right now. You were on fire, you felt so inspired. You take another look at the clock. You know the presentation needs no more work, you're certain of it. A grin grows on your face. That means...
You could spend a little time with you girlfriend. In truth, you actually feel like you're in the mood. It could be the elation of knowing you've accomplished everything you needed to be done in record time, or it could be the overwhelming sensation in your gut that you could fuck her raw tonight.
It's then that you realize, you're not exactly in your 'prime.' You could... maybe you could drop by the gym before heading home. However, that leaves you with quite the predicament, you're pretty sure the gym the pass your girlfriend bought you is closed (hey, you're not exactly a hardcore gym-rat, though at the moment, you feel like you could be). That means you'd probably have to buy a visitor's pass, which a) means you have to spend money (boo), and b) means you'll have less time to spend with your girlfriend (and even less time for fucking).
Ah, fuck it. You pick up your keys. Even though with you're heightened senses and unusually sharper wit, you aren't prepared for when you get...   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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