I sat in my chair and looked at Brandon, and tears came to my eyes. Brandon was only 18 years old and already his life seemed over.
Three months ago he was on top of the world. He had played sports all throughout high school, and this year had been voted best all around athlete. He deserved it. He is 6' 7" tall and used to weigh 215 before the accident! He was huge! In another year he was going to enter a bodybuilding contest and he would have won too! There hasn't been a kid his size in a contest yet! But thats all gone now.
Now I watch him sit by the window and stare out into the street and wonder what is on his mind. "Brandon," I call, "need anything, bro?" He turns to me, and he smiles his friendly smile and I know he needs only to get well. "No, but thanks, Jeff," he replies weakly.
He had wanted so much! He ate right, exercised, slept hard, and studied hard. Things had been going great. His exercise regimen was ferocious, and he had made incredible gains since he started lifting at 15. But lately he felt like he had hit a plateau and he had been talking to the guys at his gym about taking steroids so that he could get MASSIVELY BIG and then he might achieve all of his goals.
I had been able to persuade him to stay off of the juice for the past year, but he kept telling me that all he wanted was to get bigger than anyone else ever dreamed of being. He had decided to begin taking the steroids and he wanted me to help. I couldnt. I didn't want to help him take a chance of "hurting" his body. Now look at him! Sometimes I wish I HAD helped.
This disaster began one evening as he was taking his 9:00 PM run (he always ran after his 7:00 PM workout). He bumped into a gang of thugs - eight of them - who cornered him and beat him senseless for no reason! They used pipes, sticks, and knives! He was a mess when we found him. Brandon could probably have taken two, three, or even four
They were eventually all caught and are serving sentences now. Shit, I wish I could meet all of THEM in a dark alley - one at a time! That is - me and a loaded gun! I'm not big . . . but for Brandon I'd do anything!!!!
He still works out, though. I guess there are some things that are innate in him, and he's even getting a little bigger. Most of the weight he lost in the hospital is coming back. The wounds have healed pretty much, but he has a lot of scars.
"Brandon," I call out like I used to, "show me that muscle!" Brandon shot me his silly grin and popped me a right arm biceps pose. Man, it's incredible! Hes huge. "You're Superman, Brandon!" I say, and he replies "Yeah, thanks Bro," and he smiles. IT KILLS ME!
Last night he came to my room and looked me in the face with a serious expression, and told me he HAD to get big. He wanted to start taking steroids. NOW! He STILL wants to take those steroids - only now more than ever.
"I want revenge!" he yelled at me! And then he smashed his fist into his hand really hard! I shuttered to think what he could accomplish if he were truly massive. He wants to meet those guys again!
On his graduation night Brandon told me about his plans for bodybuilding. He wanted to gain at least 50pounds - to weigh 325! He was watching guys on TV in a bodybuilding competition and he said "I could take 'em by showing off just one arm!"
Like I said, he was ready to do steroids 'cause he wanted to make faster, bigger gains, and I talked him out of it. "What about your kidneys?" I'd ask. " Or your heart? And don't you
I didn't realize it, but tears were coming down my cheeks. I was mad at the world, and especially at those morons who did this to Brandon. The more I thought, the more I brooded, and the more I brooded, the more I wanted revenge for Brandon. I took him to his gym today and watched him pushing up 315 on the bench, and I wanted to do something for him. I wanted to do anything! I watched him work his muscles and it seemed to be the only thing that gave him hope or pleasure. That's when I gave in.
The settlement from the families of those punks had been a total of $8 million. Brandon was rich. We, I guess, were rich. And why not give Brandon what he wanted. Size! Muscle! The ability to compete! Why not give him the most massive body ever! He already had a physical head start. How big could we make him? How massive could he get? How strong could a guy Brandons size become? I knew there were plenty of growth drugs out there, and with all of this money we could afford the best.
"Brandon," I called to him in his room. "Wanna be a "musclebeast?"
He ran into my room and his eyes actually lit up! "What? What do you mean?" called Brandon, and he grabbed me and lifted me in his strong arms!
"Brandon, you're gonna be the biggest, baddest bodybuilder ever! Curl me, man!" And he lowered my 150 lb. body and started doing repetition curls using me as his weight!
"Put me down and show me those arms!" I said. And he slowly lowered me to the floor, lifted his arms and flexed his 18" guns and smiled. He actually looked happy for the first time in over a year and a half.
I was going crazy with ideas. But the most prominent of these ideas was REVENGE! Those guys in prison were going to pay with more than jail time!
Steroids were easy to score. They were everywhere. But that was only a small part of the battle. We added our own gym to the side of the house - state of the art. I added a special kitchen and juice bar for Brandon's meals and supplements, and I even hired a nutritionist to prepare his food for him.
I looked into the bodybuilding field and heard about this guy who claimed he had the biggest arms and chest in competitive bodybuilding. He put pictures of himself on the internet stretching a measuring tape to 26" and his chest was 72"! He was huge, and it was rumored that he was a steroid freak and wanted only to get bigger. Maybe I could help him and he could help Brandon.
He was undefeated in his sport and had been taking titles since he was 15! That's who I wanted and that's who I got to train Brandon. I paid him well, but I told him he'd get a cool million if Brandon accomplished what he wanted to accomplish. A million plus would buy him a lot of drugs.
I told him about the thugs that had done this to Brandon, and he got almost as angry as I was! He wanted to see them get theirs' also! He told me that in a year and a half by Brandon's 20th birthday - he'd have him ready to take all EIGHT of them on if he wanted to. Man, money can get you anything! Including revenge. AND EVENTALLY IT DID!
Brandon took to the training like crazy! Like I told you, he was a natural athlete and his body just wanted more and more. By the time a year rolled around he had gained 2 lbs. a week of solid muscle. Yeah, he weighed 319! He was 6' 7" and weighed 319 and he was only 19 years old!! His arms were 21" by now (almost as big as his trainer), his chest was 65" and he had deltoids and quads beyond description. Huge piles of muscles sitting upon muscle.
His pecs, though, were the most incredible. They were a yard across and they were massive granite pads sticking out inches from his body! They were so big he could actually
I went into the gym while he was lifting and watched that massive machine of a body go through its' work out. Greg was shouting at him to push harder and he was grunting and groaning and working his muscles with more and more intensity.
When he had finished Military Pressing 305 lbs. he threw the weights to the floor and started pacing the room snorting like a bull! I crossed to him. "Brandon, show me how strong you are!" I yelled, "Pick me up!"
"Give me something hard!" he said, and he swept me into his arms.
"Press me!" I said!
"For how long?" he asked. "I could press your skinny bod all day!"
He pressed me over his head 10 or 20 times! Shit! He was incredible! Then he held me out in front of him with my feet dangling off of the floor! "Enough?" he asked, "or do you wanna go again?" The steroids were working fine!
He threw me down, and snorting and grunting, continued his pace only stopping every once in a while to look in the mirror and pose.
"Fuckin' muscles are comin' in fine!" he shouted. "More! I want to be bigger! More! Those fuckheads are going to be sorry they met me that night!" Then he'd move quickly on. Those steroids were making him mean.
The nutritionist quit after 11 months. He didn't like the "junk" Greg was feeding Brandon "on the side" AND because Brandon got to where he liked picking HIM up and lifting HIM as much as he liked lifting the weights. It was getting so that no one could control him.
I was VERY pleased, and he seemed to be pleased also. "I'm sick of hidin' myself here in this house! I haven't been out in a year!" he complained. "Let's get out and stir up some trouble!"
I decided it WAS time to get him out, so I took Brandon with me on an errand. He decided on his wardrobe. Brandon bounded down the stairs wearing an old jersey with the neck and the sleeves cut out. It was so tight on him now that it stretched across his body like a second skin! He wore a pair of workout shorts that had become at least five sizes too small for him. Shit! His quads were gigantic!
"Take this musclestud to the mall, man!" he said. I want to attract a little attention.
I loved the stares he got in the mall. People obviously have no inhibitions, because they were always asking him to pick them up or show them his muscles. He loved that! Wed sit at a table in the food court and Brandon would say, "see that table of girls over there? I can make them come over here in less than five minutes!"
"Bet!" I'd respond. And he'd yawn fairly loudly to get their attention. Then he'd draw his arms back behind his head in
He'd "shift" into other "unintentional" positions stretching his quads or showing off his triceps, and he got a big kick out of flexing his pecs do that they'd dance back and forth! That's the one that brought the girls over. He did it in three minutes flat! The girls "oohed" and "ahhed" over his tremendous body and he'd always invite them to feel him flex his pecs.
But he treated the guys quite differently. A guy would start to hang on Brandon and ask him to flex. Brandon would pull off his shirt exposing those humongus pecs! "Sure, guy! Watch these babies dance!" he'd brag.
He'd ripple his pecs slowly and then he'd place the guy's fingers between his pecs and let him touch their rock hard contour. "Like em?" he'd ask. "Here, put your fingers between these mountains of muscle and feel how deep that ridge is!" Just when the guy was getting off on feeling the ridge between his massive pecs, Brandon would squeeze their fingers to the point of breaking. He wouldnt let go until they'd scream for mercy!
Then without warning, just before the picture snapped, he'd grab the idiots and begin curling them like they were a human barbell. They'd usually scream so long that he'd eventually drop them. That mass of muscles could curl a 100 to a 160 lb. person for an hour!
These aggressive acts were only innocent signs of what was to come. The longer he took the steroids, the more massive and also aggressive - he became. He began staring at his reflection in the mirror on a regular basis. He'd flex his muscles and touch each one and smile this very weird sort of smile. "Revenge is almost mine!" he'd say in a low booming voice. "They won't know what freight train hit them!"
He and Greg developed this routine where Greg gave him things to crush to work his fingers, hands, and forearms. Greg would place him in front of the wall mirror and drop an apple in each of Brandon's hands. Brandon would slowly grip the apples firmly and begin to squeeze. Tighter! Tighter! His arms were pumping and the veins would be standing out. He'd make this loud grunting sound and finally
Greg watched him day by day and after a while the apples were replaced with small pieces of wood, then small stones, then larger and larger stones. His grip was incredible. He could crush a stone to powder in 10 seconds!
Greg would give him the largest stones and tell him to begin squeezing. Then Brandon would begin his grunting and groaning and his face would turn red. As he worked the stones, Greg prepared a syringe of the yellowish liquid. He'd stand behind Brandon and yell, "DO IT, WIMP! CRUSH THEM! CRUSH THEM!" Brandon increased his grip and grunted even louder than before. Then Greg would yell, "I SAID CRUSH THEM!!!"
"FUUUUUCCCKKKK YOOOOU!" yelled Brandon, and Greg would then jab Brandon with the syringe and thrust the liquid into Brandon's powerful body! POW! Instantly he would pulverize the stones to dust as he watched the veins in his arms get bigger and bigger.
"MORE!" Brandon would shout! "MORE!!" And Greg would give him small iron bars to bend into rings by repeating the same process. They were always about two feet long, but they were only 1/2" thick at first. Then they began to increase. 5/8", 3/4", 7/8", an inch! A little bigger each week until Brandon was bending a 2" iron bar like it was no problem at all!
"Bend it, wimp! Bend it!" Greg would shout at him.
"FUUUUUCCCKKKK YOOOOU!" And Greg would jab him with a different syringe. He bent the bars easily then! It was incredible. No one could match his strength.
Brandon loved this new body he had. He loved the new strength he was amassing! He was just a big, hulk of a man - a 19-year-old man - who loved showing off his body and bending things. But he never lost sight of his ultimate goal.
When the pizza guy would deliver a pizza for me, Brandon would meet him at the door. "'BOUT TIME, ASSHOLE" he'd always say, and he'd pick him up and bring him inside to me.
"Did you order a pizza?" he'd ask me, holding the guy like a baby in his arms. I'd take the pizza and Brandon usually put the guy on top of the kitchen table or on the kitchen counter and he would do a set of poses for him.
"CHECK THIS OUT, PIZZA GUY!" And he'd do a routine that would make the guy almost faint. He'd lift the guy off of the table and then he'd get down in a pushup position and command, "GET ON!" And the pizza guy did as he was told. \
He would sit cross-legged in the middle of Brandon's back while he did 100 push-ups. "GET OFF, DUDE! NOW!" he'd bark and the guy did!
Then he'd scoop him up in his muscular arms like a barbell, press him overhead, and lower him behind his neck to his shoulders. "HOW MANY SQUATS CAN A MUSCLEDUDE DO HOLDING A PIZZA GUY ON HIS SHOUDLERS?" he'd quizz us. "WHEN YOURE AS MASSIVE AS ME, AS MANY AS HE WANTS TO!!" Hed do 100 squats holding the guy in his arms.
Then Brandon would carry him and he'd put him back outside the door. The guy would fall into a heap on the mat and sometimes stay there all night!
I wanted Brandon to have fun and enjoy his size and strength, but I didn't forget why we were doing all of this.
Each night about 6:00 Greg would shoot Brandon full of whatever he was giving him, and as he did I would show Brandon mug shots of the guys who had hurt him, reminding him of the pain and suffering he had experienced. Brandon would rage and become
Then he'd pose eight "most muscular" poses as he went down the line and looked into their faces. "DEATH TO YOU, DUDE! AND DEATH TO YOU, DUDE! AND DEATH TO YOU, DUDE!" he'd repeat as he went down the line. Then he
In three months those guys would be out of jail and Brandon would be ready for them. Three months, 90 injections, 74 pounds, and 72 workouts later, Brandon was an uncontrollable gargantuan. The day the thugs got out of jail, Brandon was ready.
Brandon now weighed 405 lbs. He was so massive that he couldn't be called anything other than a "musclebeast."
I watched him looking at himself in the mirror. His attitude had changed. He watched his biceps as he flexed his arms (now measuring 28"!) and felt his pecs (over 80") as he crunched them tight and squeezed every muscle.
Our plans for Brandon and the ex-cons included several carefully rehearsed events. I had Greg work him on the speed bag an hour each day. "Faster!" Greg would shout!
"EAT SHIT!" Brandon yelled back!
"Faster! Youre a weakling!"
"EAT SHIT AND DIE!"
"Faster! Your brother could take you with a punch like that!"
"I'D DEMOLISH THE TWO OF YOU TOGETHER!"
"Harrrdddeeerrr!" and again he'd jab him in his butt with a long liquid filled syringe!
Brandon did not stop until he hit the bag so hard it would rip off of its hook, hit the wall, and explode!
He'd give him basketballs which he had to squeeze with his biceps until they tore into pieces. As they disintegrated Brandon would yell "IM THE BIGGEST FREAKIN' MUSCLE DUDE ANYONE EVER SAW!" and then he'd usually punch a brick in the wall causing smashed clay to fly!
"YEAH!" he yelled! "MESS WITH ME! I DARE ANYONE TO MESS WITH ME! BRING THOSE FUCKERS ON!!"
Then he'd climb into the ring and spar with Greg. Greg could manage to take him for the first year, but now it wasn't even a fair fight. No one could take Brandon now. He knew every wrestling hold and he knew all of the ways a good wrestler inflicts pain.
He was doing curls with 200 lb. dumbbells that were outrageously huge. They were made from eight 25 lb. plates each (Olympic size) and he could curl them until Greg told him to stop.
He knew no pain! He benched fourteen 45 lb. plates (675 lbs!) for warm-ups and could do reps for a half-hour without
It was Tuesday, 3:30 in the afternoon, exactly two years after the trial and sentencing. All eight men were due to be released today. I had hired a van and told Greg to be waiting outside of the prison when they came out. He was to tell them that he was a prison system employee paid to take them to their desired location on the outside.
When they were on their way he would emit gasses into the rear of the van that would put them to sleep until they had been delivered to our "gym."
It all went off without a hitch. He met them at 3:30, they fell for the "ride bit," and 45 minutes later their drugged bodies
I had Greg keep Brandon in the other room. I didn't want the fun to begin too soon. Ever since Greg left for the prison Brandon had been curling, and pressing, and squatting, and benching and he'd had three injections not 30 minutes ago! I didnt know what he'd do when he saw them. That event would wait just a little longer.
When Greg rejoined me, I had him tie two of the scumbags onto two reinforced steel speed bag posts. He easily hoisted their bodies and hung them like meat on a hook. They flailed there with their arms extended over their heads. Their feet were at least 15 inches off of the ground. I had him take four of the other men and tie one each of the corners of the wrestling ring. He easily muscled them into place and sat them in front of each turnbuckle and tied their hands onto the ring posts. The remaining two were shackled to the wall by Brandon's weight bench and dumbbells.
I could hear Brandon yelling in the other room. He was pacing ferociously and every now and then he'd strike the wall or a door causing wood and plaster to fly!
"HURRY THE FUCK UP!" he screamed!
"Make sure you have them all fastened securely," I told Greg. I'm going to get Brandon." I took the pictures off of the bulletin board and went into the hall to prepare Brandon for the "meeting."
He was standing in front of the hall mirror flexing, grunting, and in a rage. He watched his quads balloon out as he made his usual sounds. "SHIT! I'M HUGE" he screamed. "THIS BATCH OF JUICE HAS ME GOING! I'M A MUSCLE MONSTER!" He flexed his calf muscles. Then he struck a most muscular pose and shouted again.
"Brandon," I said. I pulled the photos of the eight men from behind my back and instantly Brandon went crazy. "These are the men that hurt you, Brandon! These are the men who made you like you are!"
"LET ME HAVE THOSE FUCKIN' PICTURES!" he grunted, reaching for the photos.
"No, Brandon! Show me your biceps!" He did.
"THERE! All 28 MASSIVE INCHES OF THEM!" he screamed.
"Flex your pecs!" He did.
"PECS!" he yelled. "PECS OF STONE! WATCH THEM BOUNCE AND RIPPLE," he boasted.
"Crush this stone!" I said, handing him a fairly substantial garden stone.
"NO STONE CAN WITHSTAND THE PRESSURE FROM MY MASSIVE HANDS! I HAVE THE STRONGEST GRIP IN THE WORLD!" He took it in one hand and crushed it to powder!
"Bend this bar," I said, and he took the 2 1/2 inch steel bar from me.
"WATCH WHILE I MAKE A FUCKIN' BRACELET OUT OF IT!" he screamed. He grabbed it and the contest was on. His massive muscle against over 2 inches of steel. It wasn't even a contest. He made a bracelet out of it in ten seconds!
"Now DESTROY these men!" I handed him the pictures and he grunted and snorted and tore the photos to shreds.
"BRING THE FUKERS ON!!" he said. He was on fire!
Greg came into the hallway and told me that all of the punks were waking up and screaming like hell. They wanted to know where they were and why they were tied up and shackled. They were yelling about their rights and demanding to see a lawyer! I told Greg to stay with Brandon for just a minute while I "briefed the boys."
Brandon paced the hall with fury - a huge behemoth, almost 7 feet tall, breathing rapidly. His arms were stretched out far away from his sides - his lat development was incredible! - his pecs were rising and falling at a fever-pitched rate. His massive shoulders heaved high and then low, and about every fifth breath Brandon would punch the concrete wall and blocks of cement would hit the floor! His eyes were red and so was his face. He had a crazed look and I couldn't guess what was going to happen next. I left him with Greg.
"What the shit is going on?" demanded the largest of the group who was tied to one of the speed bag posts. "Let us down NOW or I'll beat the crap out of your wimpy ass when I get outta' here!"
He was a massive long-haired 22 year old and he was shackled up by Brandon's weight bench. I smiled. They were all pretty impressive in size. I'd say 185 to 260 lbs. and 5'10" to at least 6'5". But none of them could even come close to comparing to Brandon, though.
"Shut up, you scum!" I shouted. "All of you! You are here for a
"Well, that kid went to the hospital with broken ribs, broken fingers, and broken toes!, I continued. "His face was mutilated beyond recognition, and his stomach and abs took 136 stitches to close properly. His legs were no good to him for a year! The doctors gave him no more than 5 to 10 to live, and because of what you did to him, he'll never be capable of fathering a family at all!"
"BOO-HOO!" yelled the man shackled to the far wall.
I crossed and got up in his face. "He spent a year despondent over all of this, and I didn't think he'd ever come back from it. But he has!," I said. "I've spent almost half of the $8 million dollars your families had to shell out and I got him the best drugs money could buy. STEROIDS, GENTLEMEN! The best, the most potent! He's been training endless hours per day and he's become a musclebeast. You're going to be sorry you ever messed with this kid! Biceps! Triceps! Delts! Quads! Pecs! Abs! All mounds of STEEL! He weighs over 400 lbs. now, and every night I show him your pictures so that he won't forget what you did to him! Now he's going to get his revenge! And I'm going to love watching him do it! Greg," I shouted, "bring Brandon in!"
Slowly a shadow moved down the wall in the hallway, and then the mass that made up Brandon's body stood at the doorway, eclipsing the light from the hall. Brandon stood there with his lats spread and his muscles flexed! He stared straight ahead and he looked wild! His breathing was
"Shit!" screamed one of the puny guys tied to a ring post. "Get that muther away from here! Let us go!"
"Brandon," said Greg, "get busy, muscleman!"
Brandon stood in front of the mouthy guy tied to one of the speed bags pointed to the scar on his face. "TWO YEARS AGO YOU OPENED ME UP AND PUT THIS GASH IN MY FACE." Brandon pointed to the scars.
"Shut up, freak!" the blonde spat out.
And that was the last intelligible thing he EVER said. POW! Brandon used the man's head as if it was a speed bag! His powerful fists were landing blow after blow in rapid succession. Teeth were flying from his mouth like pieces of rice.
"LIKE IT, TOUGH GUY? EAT THOSE TEETH!" Brandon screamed.
Brandon was pulverizing his teeth into tiny bits! The man's lips were swelling! They were puffy and bloated! Brandon moved to the guy's nose, turning his knuckles so that they could do the most damage. Several quick jabs later his nose was no longer sticking out of his face, but there was a crater where it used to be!
"IM GOING EASY ON YOU, GUY! WAIT TIL ITS TIME FOR THE K.O!"
Next Brandon worked his eyes! In four punches both eyes had closed. Brandon continued to punch. His muscles pumped and flexed as his delivered blow after blow. The man's head bounced left and right and back and forth, and yet he never made a sound. He couldn't.
"I WANT YOU TO FEEL THE PAIN I FELT WHEN YOU KEPT HITTING ME IN MY FACE WITH THAT LEAD PIPE!" Brandon screamed. "BUT THIS FIST CONNECTED TO THIS 30" ARM CAN DO MORE DAMAGE THAN ANY LEAD PIPE!"
Brandon moved with speed and agility for several quick jabs and then pulled his huge right fist back and checked out his incredible right bicep.
"NO MORE PLAYING AROUND! LET'S LET THIS MASSIVE BICEP DO IT'S STUFF!"
Brandon gave his arm one last powerful flex and he threw a punch that shoved the man's face into the back of his head! It was like those speed bags he had always punched into an explosion!
Brandon clenched his fists and starting pumping them, forcing the blood to circulate through his arms and across his chest. His pecs rippled and he exercised them LEFT and RIGHT working them into a pumped up state of incredible proportions! They were bigger than I had ever seen them before. What was he doing?
He crossed to the guy's head and caught it in the huge cavern between his pecs!
"FEEL THE POWER OF THIS HE-MAN!" he said. And Brandon began to yell! "AHHHHH! AHHHHHH! AHHHHH! AHHHH!"as he flexed his pecs together four times grinding the man's face between his enormous chest muscles.
Then on the fifth time, I couldn't believe what I was seeing! He let out a final "AAAAAHHHHHHH!" and using only those massive muscles in the chest he crushed the head in on itself and he continued to worked his massive pecs together until the head was nothing but mush!
"YEAH!" yelled Brandon. "MUSCLE PECS ON A MUSCLE MONSTER!" He wanted more!
Brandon reached up and with one snap, pulled the body loose from its' bindings and threw it 10 feet across the room into the ring! It fell to the center of the mat, and continued to vibrate there as if it was getting an electrical shock.
Brandon screamed a victor's scream! "UUUUUGGGGHHHH!" nd the flexed his massive muscles and brought his hands above his head with another shout! "MORE! I NEED MORE NOW!!" He was ready to fight again!
"Shit!" shouted the man attached to the other speed bag post. "Stay away from me, freak!"
"WHAT, DID YOU CALL ME? A FREAK?" asked Brandon. "I'M THE STRONGEST FUCKIN' FREAK ALIVE!"
Brandon lowered his fists, and faced the 250-pounder. The man had a bodybuilder's physique and his abs were incredible. An eight pack! His biceps were huge and developed. His chest was massive and he was tattooed all over. Brandon looked at him, never breaking his
"A FREAK? UNLIKE WHEN I MET YOU TWO YEARS AGO, I NOW HAVE 30" ARMS. (Hhe flexed them). AN 80" CHEST. (He rippled his pecs). A 28" WAIST. (He showed off his abs). AND THE BIGGEST FUCKIN' QUADS YOU'LL EVER SEE! (He moved his tree trunks into a hardened pose.) YOU CALL ME A FREAK? THANKS! THAT'S WHAT THIS WAS ALL ABOUT. I GUESS WE'VE ACHIEVED OUR GOAL. "
"Eat shit and die, freak!" the man said.
Brandon was on him like a light. He placed his massive pecs against the man hanging from the speed bag post. Their pecs met exactly, even though the man hung so far off of the ground. Brandon grabbed him in a bear hug and said, "START PRAYING!"
He squeezed lightly at first. Short little jabs that made the man exhale in short little breaths. As he squeezed he tightened his grip slowly. "Huhh. Huhh. Hunhh. HUNHH. HUNHH. HUNNNH." The man breathed in short spurts as the breath slowly left his body - little by little. It was like being squeezed by a boa constrictor.
Pecs ground against pecs, and Brandon began to tighten down even more.
"You're cavin' in my chest!" the man gasped.
"THAT'S THE IDEA," Brandon replied. "IT'LL ALL BE OVER SOON."
The man began to scream, but the more he screamed the more breath he wasted. The pressure from this muscle monster was killing him!
"NOW, ON THE COUNT OF FOUR!" said Brandon.
"ONE!" He re-tightened his grip and pulled. "Ehhhhh!" yelled the man.
"TWO!" Brandon squeezed so that he heard the man's sternum begin to crack.
"THREE!" The bearhug was intense. Brandon's arms strained and the muscles in his forearms pulsed. "I'M THE STRONGEST FUCKING HUMAN ALIVE!" Brandon shouted.
"FOUR, FUCKER!" and he drove the man's chest into his back caving it in like cardboard!
"Brandon, my man," Greg spoke up. "What about a little guts action? I wanna see some blood. Whaddayasay?"
Brandon stared at Greg almost like he didn't know him. "BLOOD? NO PROBLEM!" Brandon boasted.
Brandon flexed his fists causing his veins to pop out! Blood was racing through them wildly. He opened his fingers, straightened them tight, and formed his hands into two rigid "knife-like" weapons.
"TAKE THIS, YOU SHITHEAD!"
JAB!!!!! Went his left hand piercing the man's ribs. "AND AGAIN!" JAB!!!!! Went his right, and blood began gushing! Brandon twisted his hands slowly inside of the man's torso! Brandon didn't stop. He removed his bloodied hands from the man's body and placed them on the man's abs, side by side. Brandon's hands were so big that he practically covered the man's entire mid-section!
"Do it, Brandon," called Greg! "Take him to the wall!
"GOT IT, COACH!" Brandon said. "RIGHT AWAY!"
"ONE!" He got down in a three-point stance.
"TWO!" He started snorting like a bull! What intimidation!
"THREE!" yelled Brandon and he charged toward the wall like a football player working on the sled! He ran with an incredible force that tore the man's bonds right off of the speed bag post with a sudden Rriiipppppp! The freight train - Brandon! - moved at 150 mph to the wall with the poor slob caught in between his powerful hands and the concrete wall! There was a horrible squishing sound and an incredible cracking sound as the man's ribs disintegrated under the
Brandon's hands met the wall with an explosion, and he continued THROUGH it! The wall broke into a thousand pieces as Brandon disappeared into the hall still moving at an incomprehensible speed. CRAAASSSHHHH! No telling what he had done to the man's body when he met the wall at the other side of the hall. Then there was silence.
Brandon entered the room holding the man out in front of him - his massive arms outstretched. They were face to face. Brandon surveyed his work.
"THIS FUCKER IS SORRY HE EVER CUT ME IN THE ABS!" Brandon said as he heaved the lifeless body over his monstrous shoulders in a firemans carry. He turned and slowly crossed toward the wrestling ring.
I watched Brandon walk slowly over to the ring. He carried the body like a trophy.
"FUCKIN' MUSCLEFREAK!" Brandon yelled in victory. "I'M A FUCKIN' MUSCLEFREAK!"
I was astonished at the way the huge muscles in his body moved. Now his shoulders looked five times wider than his waist, and his quads flared out twice the size of his mid section making him look like a grotesquely unbalanced hour glass. His shoulders were mounds of muscles packed on other mounds of muscle, and they were thick as hell!
Because his back was so wide, his arms stuck out a foot on either side of his body and they made it impossible for him to walk through doors any other way but sideways - and even that was impeded by his huge, hulking chest. Just imagine the size your body would have to be to force you to walk into a room sideways, and even then his chest would get stuck!
He stepped up onto the apron of the ring. "HERE'S WHERE YOU GET OFF,ASSHOLE! KEEP YOUR SCUM BUDDY COMPANY," he said, and he heaved the lifeless body over his head with just a slight push and it landed inthe center of the mat with a thud! It landed on the other body, and that one began twitching again!
The other men fell silent. Brandon crossed to the middle of the ring and began to "stretch out." Actually he was just taking his time having fun intimidating the guys in the ring. He stretched his lats and flexed his biceps and triceps. He rolled his shoulders and did a few trunk twists on his 30" waist! They were just staring! I don't know enough about wrestling to tell you the technical moves that Brandon made, but I'll describe to you - as best I can - what Greg and I watched him do.
"OK, PUNY EARTHLINGS!" Brandon chided, "IT'S RECKONING DAY FOR YOU FOUR POOR SLOBS. LET'S SEE . . . EENIE . . . MEENIE . . . MINEE . . . YOU'RE DEAD FIRST, MOE!
Brandon went toward the man on the far side of the ring. "Asshole!" shouted the huge man tied to the ring post. He sounded desperate. "Make it a fair fight! You killed my buddies while they were tied to a post, but what about untying me so I can show you what some real muscle can do, you pathetic musclehead!"
Brandon liked his style! "NO PROBLEM, STUD!" said Brandon, "ITS YOUR GAME! SHOW ME WHAT SOME REAL MUSCLE CAN DO!"
Brandon crossed to the ring post and with one hand, grabbed the thick ropes that bound the man there.
"AND TO SHOW YOU I'M NOT AN ALTOGETHER BAD MUSCLEFREAK, I'LL UNTIE YOUR BUDDIES AND WE'LL MAKE IT FOUR ON ONE."
The man stood as Brandon turned and walked away toward the opposite post. In a flash the man ran at Brandon and jumped onto his back.
"HEY. IF I HAD KNOWN YOU WANTED A RIDE, I WOULD HAVE OFFERED." Brandon continued as if nothing was happening! The man grabbed him by the neck and started to squeeze! It was impossible for him to get both hands securely around this thick, massive neck.
"BETTER SQUEEZE TIGHTER IF YOU EXPECT TO GET ANYWHERE," Brandon said. "I"LL GIVE YOU JUST TWO MORE MINUTES TO TRY."
The man continued to ride Brandon's back as Brandon released the other men. The poor sap was sweating and straining, trying to choke this behemoth. Brandon casually proceeded to release the other three men in the same fashion as the first. GRAB! FLEX! PULL! SNAP!!!! - it was child's play.
"TIME'S ALMOST UP, MUSCLESTUD!" said Brandon, and the man took both hands and clamped down on Brandon's neck with one last effort. He clamped harder and harder and managed to make his fingers almost meet! Squeeze! Squeeze!
Brandon stopped what he was doing and laughed. "HEY GIRLY-GIRL, IT'S ANIMPOSSIBLE TASK! GET A LOAD OF THE MUSCLES IN THIS NECK!"
And he flexed his neck with one quick POP and the man's hands were forced back inches away from his neck! He looked at his hands unbelieving!
They were all free now. "SORRY, MUSCLES, BUT IT'S TIME TO GET TO WORK NOW," Brandon said, and he reached behind him and grabbed the man by the head and pressed him over his own head in a nicely executed tricep press.
"CATCH HIM!" ordered Brandon, and he propelled the man forward causing him to crash into his buddies standing at the other side of the ring. They did try to catch him, but the impact sent them all crashing back into the ropes with such force that their combined bodyweight snapped the far ropes and they all went flying out onto the floor.
"NOPE! NO TRYING TO ESCAPE!" Brandon said to the mass of flesh lying on the floor. And he stepped down next to them. "HERE, LET ME HELP YOU!" And he picked up ALL FOUR men AT ONCE and threw them back into the ring! What a display!
"OK, GIRLS. LET'S WRESTLE!" Brandon waited. They huddled. "MAKE A GOOD PLAN, NOW. THIS MASS OF STEEL NEEDS A GOOD WORKOUT. ITS TAKES A LOT OF EXERCISE TO MAINTAIN THIS MUSCLE!" Brandon said.
All four of them suddenly rushed him. Brandon expected that corny move. He laughed and simply lowered his mammoth shoulders and blocked their charge with the most unbelievable set of deltoids on the planet. WHAM!! All four of them flew backward across the ring and into the remaining ropes.
As they bounced Brandon called, "COME BACK AND GET ME, LADIES!"
They were propelled back toward Brandon at a tremendous speed. First mistake! Brandon did a most muscular pose and his body became a brick wall!
"ROADBLOCK!" Brandon called out. CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! All four men hit the immovable object and fell back to the mat on their asses!
"OH! SORRY!" Brandon said, as he "helped" the men to their feet. "I DIDN'T KNOW THESE "MUSCLEFREAK" SHOULDERS WERE THAT HARD!"
He grabbed two of the men by the neck and righted them with one swift pull. "MAN, I APOLOGIZE!" he said to the third as he lifted him by the wrist and held him off of
'I'LL GIVE YOU ANOTHER CHANCE! NO KIDDIN'. TRY IT AGAIN, FELLAS," he said to the group. "I'D SAY YOU WEAKENED ME PRETTY GOOD," he told the fourth as he grabbed his waist and lifted him overhead so that he was looking down into Brandon's eyes. Brandon smiled at him and put him down.
"GO FOR IT AGAIN," he told the group.
The idiots did try again. But this time as they charged him, he ran in the opposite direction and bounced off of the ropes, turning, and heading back into them! They did the same, bouncing into the ropes, turning, and heading back toward Brandon. Second mistake! The double velocity was
"SURPRISE!" called Brandon. "CLOTHESLINE!"
Just as they met him, Brandon lifted his massive 30" arms and clothes lined the four all at once. CRACK! It was a massacre. Brandon announced: "FOUR NECKS UP, FOUR NECKS BROKEN!" Their windpipes shattered and their heads lolled lifeless on their broken spines.
He grabbed two of the twitching bodies, with one in each huge hand, and held them off of the floor at eye level by their broken necks! These were the fools who had broken Brandon's arms and left him useless as an athlete!
"ARMS! YOU TWO ARE THE GUYS WHO LIKE BREAKING ARMS! AREN'T YOU?" growled Brandon. Of course they couldn't answer.
"Ahhhhhhhh!" was all they said as they looked the giant in the face.
"LET'S SEE YOU USE YOUR FUCKIN' ARMS WHEN THEY LOOK LIKE THIS!"
Brandon took one man by the left arm and one by the right and proceeded to TIE THEM TOGETHER in masterfully executed granny knots! Crunch . . . crack . . . smash!
"LET'S SEE, IT'S RIGHT OVER LEFT (crack!) OR IS IT LEFT OVER RIGHT? (crunch!) I CAN NEVER REMEMBER!"
Their bones cried out as Brandon bent their arms like pretzels and interwove them together. "MAN, I DID ALRIGHT, DON'T YOU THINK, GUYS? PRETTY GOOD KNOT!" Their arms were a knotted mass of useless flesh.
'WHAT ABOUT A REPEAT PERFORMANCE, GUYS?" They tried to protest. "NO, NO PROBLEM AT ALL!"
Then he took the other arms and did the same! CRUNNNCH! He was having fun seeing how many ways he could get their arms to bend. The two men faced each other with their arms tied in knots, broken in multiple places. They tried to pull away from each other but they truly were tied in knots!
"OK, YOU FUCKIN' SIAMESE TWINS, TIME TO DIE . . . TOGETHER!"
Brandon was getting good at this bearhug thing. He lifted both bodies and put his massive arms around BOTH of their torsos. "OK, LADIES, KISS EACH OTHER AND SAY GOODNIGHT!" and he drove their faces together with one swift pull. Their teeth were grinding against one another, their noses tried to occupy the same space!
"OK, I'M GOING TO TRY AND BREAK MY RECORD OF FOUR COUNTS! WHAT DO YOU SAY WE TRY IT IN THREE, HUH LADIES?"
"ONE!" The immediate sound of sternums cracking. "FUCK, YEAH!"
"TWO!" Brandon jumped into the air and landed with the wo men under him. All 450 pounds of him smashing them together. "OH, MAN, IM GONNA MAKE THREE!"
"THREE" he shouted, and the ring floor splintered and cracked and he drove the entangled men through the flooring and onto the floor below! He released them, and stood over them - a hulking monster wanting to inflict more pain! "STAY THERE, LADIES, WHILE I TAKE CARE OF YOUR FRIENDS," he said looking down into the hole. There was no
"TWO EX-CONS DOWN! ANOTHER TWO TO GO!" called Brandon, as he turned o the other two. He was breathing harder than ever before. His excitement was mounting! He was searching for more action!
COME HERE, KIDS! IT'S FUNTIME!" He lifted one of the puny men and threw him into the other. "YOU TWO ARE GOING TO NEED TO STICK TOGETHER IF YOU WANT TO TAKE THIS MUSCLEBEAST!"
They lay still, looking into his blazing eyes. Brandon reached out and he took each man by the throat. They screamed in pain. Their necks had been broken in several places and blood was trickling from their mouths. Brandon's muscles tensed.
"UP YOU GO, TOUGH GUYS!" And he lifted them eight and a half feet into the air! They were dangling off of the floor, choking from Brandon's grip. His strength was unbelievable!
"TAKE A LOOK AT MY MASSIVE LEGS, ASSHOLES!" Brandon brought each man's face down to his massive quads. "LOOK!" he shouted, "LOOK AT THE MOUNDS OF MUSCLE THAT EXIST WHERE YOU ONCE CARVED YOUR NAMES! YOU TOOK YOUR KNIVES AND CARVED YOUR NAMES INTO MY LEGS! LOOK MORE CLOSELY AT THE SCARS!"
And he rubbed their noses in the deep grooves of the striated muscle that made up his tree trunk legs. He made them examine the surgery scars where the team of doctors had spent hours trying to put his crippled legs back together.
"LIKE THEM? LIKE THOSE SCARS?," Brandon sneered. "WANT SOME OF YOUR OWN?" He rubbed their faces harder and harder against the rock hard surface of the legs he had trained so carefully over the past year.
"ARE YOU READY TO REPAY THIS MUSCLEGOD FOR THE WRONGS THAT YOU HAVE DONE TO HIM? WELL, PAYBACK TIME IS NOW!" Brandon yelled!
WHAM! He threw them to the mat onto their backs, and reached down and grabbed one man by the left foot and one by the right. He raised them off of the mat and held them over the concrete floor, outside of the ring with their heads
"I SAW ARNOLD DO THIS TO A GUY IN A MOVIE ONCE! HELD HIM OVER A CLIFF! WELL, ARNOLD'S A WIMP COMPARED TO THIS MUSCLEMAN! LET HIM TRY IT WITH
He held their feet like the apples he had crushed so many times in his exercises with Greg. Their faces were two feet above the concrete qnd they were afraid of falling!
SMAAASSSHHH!! They yelled in agony. He didn't drop them, he broke their feet! "OH, YOU LIKED THAT! I'M PLEASED! WELL, HOW ABOUT THIS?"
All of the bones in each man's foot disintegrated! SNNNAAAPP! With one swift move he had rotated the feet 180 degrees and broke them from their sockets. They hung useless.
"MAN, THAT WAS AWESOME, WASN'T IT FELLAS? WHAT DO YOU SAY WE TRY IT WITH THE OTHER FEET TOO?"
Brandon asked. He actually tossed them into the air and as they came down he caught their other feet - still holding their heads two feet off of the floor! He had them by the opposite feet - their GOOD feet - only this time he had an idea.
"COME BACK INSIDE, GIRLS. I WANT TO TRY SOMETHING. I WANT TO SEE EXACTLY WHAT THESE HUGE FUNKIN' GUNS CAN DO!"
He placed one man's foot in the cavern that formed between his right bicep and his massive forearm. Then he did the same to the other man using his left bicep. Brandon stood up to full height. Both men were dangling upside down with their feet crunched in his unflexed arms.
"OK, GENTLEMEN. I'M AFRAID THIS IS GOING TO HURT YOU MORE THAN IT'S GOING TO HURT ME! DOUBLE BICEP POSE . . . NOW!!"
And he flexed his 30" guns and instantly there was cracking and crunching. Brandon kept tensing and releasing the huge mound of muscle and as he did the bones in their feet were ground into dust!
"FEELS LIKE YOUVE GOTTEN PRETTY SOGGY! NO MORE BONE? AWWW!" He relaxed his arms and their bodies fell to the mat. They screamed in pain.
"Kill us! Kill us!" they begged! "The pain! Shit! The pain!"
"SOON, SHITHEADS! SOON. I WANT YOU TO SUFFER A LITTLE MORE - LIKE YOU MADE ME SUFFER!"
Brandon had no mercy for the two men writhing in pain at his feet. He reached down and grabbed the first one by the arm and began to turn in circles holding him out like a hammer used in the hammer toss.
"Ahhh! Ahhhhhhhh!" screamed the man.
"YOU CAN FLY, MAN!" Brandon yelled as he released him and he flew through the air! THUD! Man #1 flew from the ring and landed against the brick wall 8 feet away! SMASH!
"OH, SHIT. SORRY MAN! YOU MUST HAVE SLIPPED!" The force from this massive muscleman's arms was so great that the body crushed flat into the wall and stuck there! The man's body was crushed!
"ACTUALLY, THAT WAS PRETTY COOL," Brandon said. "COME HERE, OTHER LITTLE GUY! HOW FAST CAN YOU FLY?" Brandon lifted Man #2 and he followed. WHAM! SMASH! It wasn't a pretty picture.
Brandon loved it! "I AM A MUSCLEFREAKIN' MUSCLEGOD!" he shouted. The excitement and the rage fueled him on! He crossed to the gaping hole in the mat and jumped in! "
WANNA FLY TOO, MEN? ITS FUCKIN' GREAT!" he announced. And just because he COULD, Brandon picked up man number 3 and man number 4 TOGETHER - one in each massive palm - and held them like tiny model planes.
"ALL ABOARD FOR FLIGHT 356 TO DEATH!" yelled Brandon,
"GIVE ME MORE! I WANT MORE! PAIN AND MORE DESTRUCTION RULE! WHERE ARE THOSE OTHER TWO SHITHEADS?"
The two men remaining were shackled to the wall next to Brandon's weight bench. "I'M COMIN' FOR 'YA, YOU TWO BASTARDS! START WRITIN YOUR WILLS!"
"Six men down. Two to go!" Greg called to Brandon.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN," Brandon announced, "THE SCORE IS NOW BRANDON 6, PUNKS 0."
Brandon began pacing back and forth wildly in the ring. He breathed giant breaths and let his pecs rise and fall! He looked like a tiger readying himself up for the kill.
"PEC TIME, AUDIENCE MEMBERS!" he said! "TIME TO WATCH THIS MUSCLEBEAST STRETCH THESE FUCKIN PECS EVEN BIGGER!"
Suddenly he made his move, jumping from the ring and crossing to the weight bench. He loaded 10 plates on each side of his bar. 945 lbs.!!!! Then he lay down on the bench and proceeded to do 10 reps with a half of a ton! No one could match his strength! His massive chest was glowing red from the workout.
His pecs heaved even more! "YEAH! GOOD REPS! GOOD MUSCLEPUMPIN' REPS!" he shouted. "NEED MORE WEIGHT! MORE FUCKIN' WEIGHT! GOTTA WORK THIS HUGE MUSCLEMONSTER'S CHEST!" And Brandon turned to Greg and screamed at him "AAAAAARRRRR!" He flexed a Most Muscular Pose.
"You have enough muscle there for at least - what do you say? - another 230 lbs?" Greg called out.
"SHIT, YEAH!," said Brandon. "230 MORE POUNDS! BUT WHERE?" Brandon understood what Greg meant! "COME HERE, PUNK," he said to the man shackled to his weight bench. "I NEED YOUR FUCKIN' PUNY ASS!"
He grabbed a roll of the tape he used to wrap his wrists when lifting particularly heavy weights. He crossed to one of the men shackled to the wall, and grabbed the chain that held him in place. The shackle was pretty thick - at least 3 inches of solid iron. More than Brandon had bent before. He pulled.
"WIMP!" yelled Greg. "Break it off!"
Brandon looked at the chain and down at his massive bicep. He was a muscle beast! No 3" iron chain was going to mess with him!
"ARRRRGGGHHHH!" he yelled, and with one short pull he jerked the man's huge hand THROUGH the 4" opening in the shakle! Every bone in the man's hand shattered! He screamed in pain!
"OH, SHIT! SORRY! I GUESS I SHOULD HAVE BROKEN THE RING INSTEAD OF YOUR HAND! MAN! HERE, LET ME TAKE CARE OF THAT!"
He grabbed the solid iron ring between his thumb and index finger and squeezed. THEN the iron shackle shattered. "I GUESS IT WOULD HAVE BEEN EASIER ON YOU THAT WAY, HUH?" Brandon asked.
"What the shit are you doing?" the man finally screamed.
Brandon lifted him with one hand and brought the two of them eye to eye. Brandon struck his chest with his free hand. "LOOK AT MY CHEST, ASSHOLE!" he yelled as his mood changed. He indicated the scar from the incision that ran across his right pec. "DID YOU THINK IT WAS FUNNY WHEN YOU OPENED THAT 13" GASH IN MY CHEST? DID YOU THINK IT WAS FUNNY LEAVING ME FOR DEAD OUT THERE ON THAT ROAD?" This man had hurt him badly. Brandon was going nuts.
"Screw you," the man whimpered quietly.
"WHAT, ASSHOLE? WHAT WAS THAT?" Grabbing the man's arm he lifted him into the air as he also gripped him between the legs. "YOU'RE A MAJOR PAIN IN THE NUTS! OR SHOULD I SAY YOU HAVE A MAJOR PAIN IN THE NUTS!" Brandon laughed.
The man screamed incessantly! "Put me down, you asshole! Put me down!" Brandon put extra pressure on the man's balls for good measure!
"JUST WHAT I HAD IN MIND!" Brandon replied.
THWACK! He planted the man in a prone position across the barbell he had been lifting. "SIT TIGHT, SISTER! AND DONT MOVE!" Then he took the tape and began wrapping th man's body to the bar.
"Let me go, you freakin' idiot!" the man yelled. "You moron! I thought we hit you enough times in the head to make you a retard for life! When we get out of here, we're going to finish the job we started!"
"ARE YOU THREATENING ME? ARE YOU?!" Brandon fumed and snorted. He quickly finished wrapping the man tightly to the bar. "GOTTA' WORK THESE FUCKIN' MASSIVE PECS!"
The man was screaming as Brandon applied the last bit of tape. "Let me go, fucker!"
Brandon pulled the last bit of tape from the roll and placed it firmly over the mans mouth. Then he turned the man's body so that it was facing down TOWARD the bench, hanging at the bottom of the bar. His body and the bar were ONE thing! The man was a mummy attachedto an Olympic bar loaded with 1,180 pounds! No mere man could even hope to budge this amount of weight. Brandon took his place on the bench.
"GOTTA MAKE THESE PECS THE BIGGEST IN THE WORLD! STEEL! FUCKIN STEEL!" he called out.
Brandon placed his mammoth hands on the bar and lifted it slowly off of the stand. Over half a ton! Brandon pressed the bar to a full arm extension and held it there. He was looking up into the man's terrified eyes!
"GET READY TO FEEL STEEL! STEEL FROM ABOVE AND STEEL FROM BELOW. TASTE MY FUCKIN PECS, YOU ASSHOLE!" Brandon screamed, "ARRRGGGHHH!" he screamed, and he let the bar FALL to his chest! SMASH! Bones breaking. That's all I could hear - bones breaking!
"ONE!!" he screamed as he pressed the mammoth weight again. "HERE IT COMES AGAIN, ASSHOLE! YEAH!"
"TWO!" And he let the weight crash into his pecs again. All of the man's bones must have been broken inside of all of that tape.
"THREE!" screamed Brandon as he let the weight fall again. It crashed into his chest and pockets in the tape burst open and slime began to spurt out!
Up! SMASH! "FOUR!"
Up! SMASH! "FIVE!" Brandon yelled.
"FEEL ME! FEEL MY FUCKIN' STRENGTH! I AM A MUSCLEBEAST!" Brandon seemed to love feeling the disintegrating body crumble against his chest. He kept it up until there was literally nothing left under the tape that resembled a human. There was nothing on the bar but a few fragments of tape.
His pecs were red and heaving! He stood by the bench with an insane look in his eyes and began posing! Side Chest Pose! "FUCK THIS CHEST IS LOOKING GRRRRRREEAAT!" said Brandon.
He wanted to do more! Seven men dead and one still remaining. He paced faster and fasted as his brain worked! "GOTTA WORK MY TRICEPS!"
Brandon showed off his triceps. They were massive! "OH, LOOKING A LITTLE TINY TODAY. MAYBE A LITTLE TRICEP PRESS IS IN ORDER!" Brandon yelled.
"FEE-FIE-FOE-FUM! LOOK OUT SHITHEAD! HERE I COME!" Brandon pounded the floor as the lumbered over to the remaining man. He put his massive mit around the iron chain that held the man to the wall.
"BEEN HERE - DONE THIS!" Brandon said, and with one tug the shackle exploded it in his hand. CRUNCH! He screamed. "ARRRGHHHH!"
The man was "free." Brandon turned and showed the man the scar on the left side of his back. "REMEMBER THIS BACK? NO, I GUESS YOU DON'T. THAT WAS 175 POUNDS AND A LOT OF MUSCLE AGO!" he said. "WELL THAT'S WHERE YOU PLANTED YOUR KNIFE TWO YEARS AGO."
Brandon grabbed the cowering man and lifted him up by his head only - holding his head between his massive hands. Then he moved into the eight foot high doorway that opened into the gym. The steel frame that surrounded the opening was only 6" higher than Brandon.
"TRICEP PRESS TIME! I LOVE THESE! GREAT WAY TO
He took three huge breaths and started to perform a tricep press raising the man above his head. The man's head kept crashing it into the steel doorframe!
"SHIT! I CAN'T EXTEND MY ARMS ALL THE WAY! THAT DOORFRAME IS GETTING IN THE WAY, PAL. USE YOUR HEAD AND THINK OF A WAY TO SOLVE MY PROBLEM, OK?" Brandon asked.
He would need at least an 8' 6" opening to perform the exercise properly. "WAIT! YOU DON'T HAVE TO USE YOUR HEAD! I'LL USE YOUR HEAD!" he shouted. And he lowered the man and pressed him into the air rep after rep, crashing his head into the steel doorframe.
Brandon's muscles were pumping and expanding. They were huge! He looked like he was pumped to 32" at least! He loved it! Each time he raised the man, he did it with added force. He wanted to hurt this guy badly before doing him in!
"THANKS, MAN! IT SEEMS TO BE HELPING! I CAN EXTEND MY ARMS EVEN MORE NOW. LET'S GO FOR MORE!"
The steel in the frame began to bend as the man's skull came into contact with it for the eighth time! CRUNCH! SMASH! The reps went on and on. The steel frame was being destroyed and so was most of the man's head. As Brandon went for the tenth rep chunks of brick were falling from above the door.
"YEAH!" yelled Brandon. "WE'VE DONE IT! I CAN EXTEND MY ARMS ALL OF THE WAY UP NOW!" He had completely destroyed the frame using the man's head! "THANKS, BUDDY! YOU'VE BEEN A BIG HELP! BUDDY? BUDDY? FUCK! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR HEAD? OH, MAN, DID I DO THAT? SHIT! SORRY!"
Now there was an eighth body lying prone on the floor! Brandon stared at the body and waited for it to move. It did not. "I'M THE FUCKIN' MUSCLE KING OF THE UNIVERSE!" Brandon proclaimed! He looked at the wall where six bodies were embedded in the brick. Time to add a seventh!
He went to the box where we kept the iron bars for his strength exercises, and pulled out eight 2" thick bars. Then he crossed to the body and lifted it into the air. He crossed to the wall where all of the other men were "displayed." WHACK! Brandon took the piece of iron and jabbed it INTO the wall about eight feet off of the ground! It sunk in at least 6"! He held the man's body against the wall and with the other hand he bent the bar around the man's wrist. It was phenomenal!
"HANG THERE FOR A SECOND, ASSHOLE, WHILE I GET ANOTHER BAR!" he told the corpse. With his superhuman strength he bent the bars around each wrist, each ankle, each knee, and each thigh. The body was firmly stuck to the wall held up by the bent iron bars.
He stepped back the surveyed the wall. "DAMN!" Brandon screamed, "THAT FELT GOOD!" He turned to us. "LOOK WHAT THIS MUSCLEBODY DID!!" he screamed as he did a double biceps pose. He was happy for the first time in two years.
"I FUCKIN LOVE THIS BODY! I LOVE THE DESTRUCTION IT CAN CAUSE! LET'S GET BUSY AND BUILD IT UP MORE! I HAVE ASSHOLES ALL OVER THE CITY I WANT TO VISIT!" he shouted as he turned and drove his fist through the abs of the body on the wall AND he drove the fist six additional inches INTO the brick wall!
"I LOVE ALL OF THIS FUCKIN' STRENGTH!!" Brandon screamed as he pulled back his hand holding a brick from the center of the wall! "GET THE STEROIDS READY!" He stared at the brick and squeezed. It shattered into powder. "RACK UP THOSE WEIGHTS! I'VE GOT A WORKOUT TO GET TO!" he screamed.
He was already 400 lbs of lethal weapon, more powerful than any other man on earth! My brother had turned into a 20-year-old musclebeast who only wanted more! He paced, flexed his muscles, and roared!
"WORKOUT TIME, GENTLEMEN!" And he reached down and picked up a six foot long marble bench and cracked it across his chest! "I WANT TO BE 500 LBS BEFORE CHRISTMAS!"
He grabbed a ring post and ripped it frrom the mat. "I WANNA SEE WHAT OTHER FUCKIN' IDIOTS WOULD CARE TO MESS WITH ME NOW!" And he tensed all of the muscles in his body and let out a piercing scream. He placed the six inch thick post behind his shoulders and bent it around his neck! "NOTHIN!" he shouted, and threw it to the floor.
He dropped on the bench and he began to bench press the 945 lbs. still on the bar.
"ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! -- GREG, GET YOUR PUNY ASS OVER HERE AND GET MORE WEIGHT ON THIS BAR! -- FIVE! SIX! SEVEN! -- IM GOIN OUT ON THE STREETS AND VISITIN' THE OTHER ASSHOLES WHO ARE THINKIN' THEY-RE REAL TOUGH! -- EIGHT! NINE!"
Greg and I looked at each other as we contemplated what he might do next. "I'M THE FUCKIN' BADDEST MUSCLEBEAST IN THE UNIVERSE!"
"TEN!" he shouted! And he threw the bar ten feet across the room and it landed with a CRASH!!