Jacob walks back to the pool, the crowd no longer parting for him when he is just wearing swim shorts and a T-shirt. ‘How quickly they forget a returning legend,’ Jacob says to himself jokingly, mostly jokingly…
“Oh, you’re from Virgon 12? I knew someone from Virgin 6. Are you twice as cool?” Psyche says to a person in the crowd.
Jacob stands next to the pool, the press of people pushing him towards the water. “Hey, stop pushing,” Jacob says loudly, but the press of people keeps nudging him towards the edge of the pool. Soon, balancing on the edge, he falls in. He comes to the surface and grabs a passing pool noodle and floats alone, looking around for Izzy, and soon spots her and her friends floating on a pool mat. He kicks childishly till he makes his way to them, and Izzy takes his hand.
“Welcome back.” She kisses Jacob on the lips and feels a warmth in her belly. Izzy blushes slightly as Jacob pulls her back for a second kiss.
Sue swats at the couple, sending a wave of water crashing over them. “Eww, stop it,” she jokes.
Far above them on the space station called the parking lot, the attendant shuts off the sun shield and lets the sunset colors shine down on the people of the ranch motel. People flood out of the bar to look at the vibrant reds and purples.
Psyche, never to be outshone by a sunset, nods to the stage manager, who calls to the parking lot, “Get ready for the second act.”
“No, I am busy,” Marvin says, cleaning the cold marble countertop for the 300th time this week.
Psyche goes backstage and changes her outfit.
“What do you mean, no? She is about to come out,” the manager says, pulling on his hair.
“Maybe,” Marvin says tantalizingly.
“What do you want?” the manager begs.
“Signed photo of Psyche,” Marvin says casually, watching as the stage lights come up. “Signed to her best friend, Marvin”
The crowd has surged in numbers as the sun has started to set. The outside pool light illuminates the area as Psyche comes on stage. “Allllllrighttt, welcome to the second event of the night!”
Psyche twirls and points up at the parking lot, and nothing happens. Psyche’s perfect mask cracks a little. “Ehem,” she says into the microphone.
“Fine, it’s a deal,” the stage manager shouts into the phone.
On the space station the receptionist is smirking; he waits 10 more seconds and presses the button. The sky above the ranch burns in patterns that dance around until they spell “Sol Systems Strongest” with giant fists smashing together, erasing the words.
Psyche looks through the crowd. “I see a lot of muscular people out there tonight!” she points at Grup. “Like this hunk of muscle, you’re going to compete, right?” Psyche turns her back and looks over her shoulder with a 1940s wink.
Grup nods and strikes a pose. “I AM THE STRONGEST,” he roars.
Mars, sitting alone on the other side of the pool area, stands up and roars back, “NO, I AM THE STRONGEST.” He flexes as well, his shirt growing tight.
Psyche exaggeratedly raises an eyebrow. “Well good, we have a rival. Who else is going to compete?” Psyche sings.
There is a ripple of noise and panic as the minotaur steps out of the door to the bar. He is so big he has to turn sideways and duck down to make it through. The crowd runs away from him as he moves. He speaks no words, only letting out a steamy snort when he wants to express his desires. He breathes out a long, steamy breath.
“THE REIGNING CHAMP IS HERE!” Psyche cheers, her cheeks flushing. “THE MINOTAUR OF MINOTAURS! The grand labyrinthine guardian! The Champ!”
Grup and Mars give each other a knowing glance, then look back to see the minotaur walking coolly onto the stage; he stands behind Psyche, who rubs his chest through his tattered t-shirt.
“Like a rock. I swear this Minotaur… Well, who else is going to compete?” Psyche cheers to the crowd. Mars and Grup walk to the stage and stand next to the mountain of muscle. Grup nods at the Minotaur, who nods back. Grup speaks, “Rematch from last year. I hope you have been working out; you’re looking a little soft.”
The Minotaur swings his head over and exhales a jet of steam from his nose in response before flexing his muscles and popping his shirt sleeves open.
In the pool Sue kicks her feet. “Hunky men—where are the strong women?”
Izzy laughs. “Are you going to go up there and compete with that?” She points at the minotaur, his bulge in his pants bigger than the finger she is pointing with, even with perspective. “I mean, look at him!”
Jacob nods his head. “Yeah, even I know when I am beat. He is HUGE.” Jacob eyes the size of the Minotaur’s biceps, each one as big as his belly.
“Anyone else!” Psyche cheers.
“You’re right, it can’t be a boys club…” Eucleia says, slipping off the pool mat and swimming over to the stage in a perfect overhand stroke. She climbs up onto the stage, her swimsuit still semi-transparent.
She looks up at the minotaur and flexes her long muscular arm; it’s hardly as big as the minotaur’s muscle, but she sees he snorts in camaraderie as he eyes her thinly veiled body.
“Oh yeah! Eucleia is in. You better watch out. She is tougher than she looks!” Psyche says her hand is brushing the minotaur’s abs. “Fit!” she whispers over the microphone.
“Anyone else?” Psyche says, and Eucleia climbs out of the pool dripping water as she stands on the stage.
“All right, it looks like we only have 4 contestants.” Psyche says, “Can’t say I blame you for chickening out. Strike a pose!”
The four contestants all strike bodybuilder poses, looking a little like if the Power Rangers were the bad guys.
From the balcony, wearing a white sash and just finishing a slice of double chocolate cherry cake, Dr. Blob bounces up excitedly. “I wish to compete!” He wobbles excitedly. “I want two white sashes!” He rolls off the edge of the balcony and lands with a splat, then pulls himself back together and zooms around the pool edge to the stage.
Psyche looks down at the comparatively small Dr. Blob. “Well, don’t you have a big heart?” she says in a fake Southern accent to the 5 gallons of Blobby.
“All right, this year’s contest is deadlifts!” Psyche says as 4 men wearing black clothing to stay inconspicuous carry a thick metal bar onto the stage, and then they roll out two racks of round steel weights.
The burly-looking men slide 100 pounds onto the bar and step back.
Eucleia pushes Grup out of her way and grabs the bar; her swimsuit is still transparent. She uses both hands and lifts it painfully easily.
Mars grabs it with one hand and lifts it above his head; he laughs at the crowd.
Grup wiggles his pinky fingers and uses them to lift the bar.
The minotaur bends down and grabs the bar, lifts it above his head with one arm, and then uses it like a 2 lb hand weight to show off his muscle.
That leaves the Blobby. He rolls over to the bar and turns into a green cylinder and lifts the bar ¼ inch off the ground.
“Would you look at that? Everyone advances to round 2. Let’s go with 200 lbs!” Psyche cheers and gestures to The roadies who come and add more weight to the bar.
Grup scratches his head. “Does that even count? I am not convinced.”
Psyche raises an eyebrow at Grup. “Oh, and are you the judge?”
Grup mutters under his breath, but the next round goes on. Eucleia picks up the 200 lb bar with ease and sets it down with a thud.
The Grup laughs. “Raise it to 500, or this will take all night.” He picks the bar up with one hand and curls it twice before putting it over his head.
“Well, the contestants asked for it. Should we do it, folks?” Psyche points the microphone at the crowd.
Izzy, floating in the water next to Sue, scoots over to make more room for Jacob to snuggle tight in the warm water.
“Can they really do 500?” Jacob asks Izzy and Sue.
Izzy shrugs. “I don’t see why not.” Izzy watches as they add more and more weight to the bar. “Hey Sue, who is working reception?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know; it’s not like anyone is checking in. The rooms are all full already.”
“Ok, quiet down, folks, it’s time,” Psyche says as she waves a hand at Mars. “You start,” she says with a flourish.
Mars looks confused. “Why me? It’s the woman in white’s turn,” he scoffs, but Psyche glares at him. “Fine,” he says.
Grup grabs the bar and grunts, his muscles expanding, and he lifts the bar off the ground and holds it at waist height, then lifts it above his head. He winks at Mars. “You coward.”
“All right, next!” Psyche shouts, doing her best to make this event as exciting as possible.
Mars walks up to the bar and lifts. He stares at Grup the entire time. “It wasn’t that I couldn’t; it was that it wasn’t my turn.”
The minotaur picks it up silently and sets it down.
Eucleia picks the bar up with her body becoming hard with thick muscle as she lifts it off the ground. Grup feels an erection growing.
Dr. Blob scurries under the bar and pushes with 4 thick pseudopods; the green opaque substance he is made of leaks water out as he pushes, but he makes it.
“Wow,” Psyche says. “This is going to get intense. I am told we need to switch to a new bar to go above 500 lbs.”
The crowd waits while they take the weight off and bring out a new bar.
Sue paddles like a puppy next to Jacob. “I heard and saw you wear diapers,” she says, making Jacob turn bright red.
“Yeah, sometimes,” Jacob says back, trying to hide behind Izzy.
“Want to have a playdate sometime? I can ask your mommy if I need to,” Sue says, winking at Jacob.
Izzy, overhearing this conversation and enjoying how it’s making Jacob blush, says, “Sure, but let’s wait till this festival is over, Sue; there is too much going on.”
“Sure, we can do that; maybe you could meet my mommy too,” Sue says with a blush. She hadn’t intended to reveal so much about herself, but she was worn out from her day and blurted it out. She rubs her face with her hand in regret. “I, uh, should go,” she whispers, but Izzy puts an arm around her and pulls her tight on the pool raft. She sighs and rests her head on Izzy’s hand.
“Welcome back to the exciting part two of Sol Systems Strongest!” Psyche says into the microphone.
The new titanium bar is brought in, and 700 lbs is divided on each side. Eucleia attempts to lift the bar, her body morphing as her muscles wake up and stand at attention, growing until her swimsuit is precariously hanging on. She growls, and the bar comes off the ground, lifted above her small body. “Has anyone seen a door?” she grunts and drops the bar, one of the heavy weighted ends going through the plywood floor and resting on the metal bar.
Mars grabs the bar and easily lifts it above his head; he smirks as he gracefully sets the bar down.
Grup grabs the bar and lifts it, his stomach muscles flexing and his shorts becoming tight as the muscular exhibition turns him on. He can’t help but notice how Mars hasn’t even broken a sweat.
Dr. Blob crawls under the bar and creates 6 thick pseudopods, each one grabbing the bar at a different spot, and you can see him contract and the bar lift ½ inch off the ground. He drops it with a wild wibble, “wooo waaahhhh! Blobbyyys!!!” He attempts to flex a muscle like he saw the more solid intelligent life do, but it just looks like he is turning himself into an Escher painting.
The Minotaur picks up the bar with one hand and puts it above his head. He wobbles slightly and has to put his other hand on the bar to balance it. He sets it down gently, staring at the crowd, daring anyone to make an “ooooh” noise at his fumble, but the crowd stays silent.
Jacob, seeing Sue curled up with his girlfriend, rolls tight to Izzy, and she puts her arm around him similarly. He blushes softly. ‘Shit, this is nice… So Sue is into diapers. I thought so…”
The action on stage continues as Grup turns to Mars, his erection still hard in front of everyone, and grunts, “1000!” he says with confidence.
Mars grins back at Grup. “1000? Are you sure?” He asks sardonically and nods at Psyche with confidence.
Psyche smirks, “You heard the Orc take it to a thousand.”
Eucleia scoffs, “Meatheads.” She watches as they add 4 more weights to the special bar and swallows hard. “Why do I always have to go first?” she asks and watches as the minotaur grabs the bar with both hands and lifts it above his head, above his magnificent pointy horns, and then with a steamy exhale sets it down.
Eucleia looks at the Minotaur with annoyance and grabs the bar. She lifts it up and over her head with a determined look on her face, the gossamer-thin swimsuit tearing at the sides.
She sets the bar down, wobbling as she does. She turns and looks to Psyche, then to the crowd. She looks to the Minotaur. “Have you seen the magical door?” She asks, knowing this might be her last round; any more weight, and she will have to use what little faith she has left.
Psyche slides over to Eucleia with her microphone held behind her back. “You can back down now and go back to Hephaestus. Leave this contest to the boys.”
Eucleia’s face sours. “Damn you,” she whispers.
Grup and Mars both easily yank the bar up and hold it above their heads. That leaves the 5 pounds of slime to try. He splits his body in two and makes two hydraulic cylinders and pushes the bar ½ inch off the ground again, his body turning transparent in places with the exertion.
The bar weight is raised to 1300, and Mars grabs the bar first. His muscles are bulging, and he grunts audibly as he raises the bar. He notices Grup’s hand slightly brushing the front of his shorts and almost drops the bar. He closes his eyes and lifts, but as he reaches the top of his nose, he drops it. His focus was broken picturing Grup naked. “Fuck,” he whispers and storms off the stage.
Grup rushes over with glee on his face and grabs the bar. He yanks it up and lifts, but the liquid that Dr. Blob had secreted as he strained made Grups’ footing unsure. His foot slides a quarter of an inch, and the weight topples over sideways, sticking into the stage. He turns to Psyche. “Foul, that was foul! I slipped on the green snot goo!” he rages.
Psyche blinks at the upset orc staring him down. “You failed to account for it; you lose. Goodbye.”
Eucleia realizes the worst she can do is come in third, grabs the bar, and lifts her swimsuit precariously close to tearing all the way off. The crowd holds their breath waiting for the inevitable tear. The hilarious part being they can already see everything through the ultra-sheer wet swimsuit. But something about the possibility of seeing the goddess in the most immodest state is enough to turn on half the crowd and trigger the other half’s drama receptors.
She lifts the bar, and the swimsuit holds; the crowd collectively takes a breath.
Psyche cheers wildly, and the blob grabs it as soon as it touches the ground. “Thank you,” he burbles and wiggles and grabs the bar. “This is for the cake!” He jiggles as he lifts the bar, parts of him turning orange and yellow. The bar creeps a half inch off the ground, and he drops it, turning into a puddle of slime before recovering and rolling to the side.
“Wow, that looks like it was almost everything these two contestants have! Now for the minotaur!” Psyche cheers.
The minotaur squares himself up with the weight, and with a deep breath, he jerks the bar off the ground and lifts it above his head. He looks up at the stars and breathes out a triumphant steamy snort before setting the bar down.
“All right, folks, we are running out of heavy metal bits to add to the bar!” Psyche says. And motions to the weight crew—they come out with enough weight to take it to 1522. “That’s all we got, folks; after this we are going to have to get creative.”
Eucleia squares up with the bar; she spreads her feet and grabs it, the plywood under her feet threatening to self-destruct.
She lifts it chest height, the fabric of her swimsuit failing; she stops. “I am a god!” she shouts.
She raises the bar another inch, and another thread tears, but every eye around the pool is looking at her. “I am looking for a magical door that will help me stop a multi-reality war!” she grunts out.
She lifts the bar another inch, her body now a rigid mass of feminine muscle. “If anyone has information, I will be in the pool.” She drops the weight; it passes through the plywood and lands on the concrete 2 feet below with a loud clatter.
She takes a bow and pencil dives into the warm waters, her muscles shrinking back down to their normal toned form.
She swims over to Izzy and Sue and Jacob. “I did my best. Let’s see if anyone brings any information.”
Izzy sits quietly, knowing everything there is to know about the door. “Are you really here to stop a war?” Izzy asks.
Eucleia sighs “yes” and lies on her back on the mat, looking up at the stars, no longer concerned about the weightlifting contest. “And if I fail… I can’t fail.” She sighs and closes her eyes for a moment.
On the stage the minotaur grabs the bar out of the hole and sets it back on the stage. He then squares himself up and lifts the bar, his muscles rippling under his fur. He gets it above his head, then drops it, and it punches a new hole through the plywood.
Dr. Blob looks at the bar sitting down below the stage and rolls into the hole with the bar. He puts himself under the bar and lifts. His body pushing with every ounce of contracting strength he has, small overstress nodules forming inside his body, but the bar lifts off the concrete by ½ inch.
The crowd goes wild at the silly triumph of the 5 gallons of slime.
“That’s all the weight I have, gentlebeings and maliciousbeings too! So for the final round we are going to do deadlift holds and see how long we can keep the weight in the air.” The minotaur looks nervous; his explosive power is really only good for bursts of strength, not endurance. He grabs the bar and lifts it to his nipple height and holds it. He stares at the crowd. His grip gets slippery, and his body begins to overheat at the 60-second mark. At the 2-minute mark, his eyes glow a dull red, and the bar begins to heat up. He makes a deep, guttural mooing sound at the 3-minute mark, his muscles giving up.
The minotaur sets the bar down on the plywood, the weightlifting bar now bent and dully glowing; he stands looking confident. He turns and looks at the slime with a deep snort.
Dr. Blob wibbles to stretch himself out. “You can do this; you can do this. You need two sashes. You can do this!” He drops out a few crystals that had formed inside his body from the pressure and rolls to the bar. He grabs it in a complex web of tendrils and posts the bar raised off the ground, and he holds it an inch off the ground. Parts of his body are crushing into solid-looking crystal shards as his body solidifies. One minute goes by, then two minutes, three minutes is close, then four minutes, and then five minutes. Psyche walks over to the blob.
“You have won; drop the bar!” Psyche says the minotaur looking down at him.
“I can’t; I went all solid,” the blob whispers. “I need water.” The minotaur, frustrated and angry, snorts and jumps into the pool. The wave of water splashing the blob and the crowd. Everyone cheers and panics and screams, but the blob gets wet and drops the bar. Izzy, Jacob, Sue, and Euclia are deposited on the concrete, and the water starts to steam as the minotaur cools down.
The chaos dies down; Psyche holds up the blobby and drops a second sash on him. “Well, you’re the prettiest and the strongest!” She cheers, “Dr. Blob! Is the winner. Any words to your new fans?” she says, holding the mike toward the blob.
“Try cake if you haven’t, and make sure to never push yourself hard enough that your body’s structure crystallizes!” He wibbles sadly and quietly rolls to the floor before heading towards the bar.
Psyche grabs a guitar from a roadie and strums a chord that fills the listeners with the desire to live. “Next, folks, is the look-alike contest!”
