"Just keep smiling son," Greg said, watching Doug and his sons leave. As the got our of sight and Greg was sure they were gone, Greg got on the phone.

"Injured at work you say..." "Fell in some vat..." "Thanks."

After Greg hung up, he began rummaging around the yard. Whenever Brad started to ask what he was doing, Greg glared at him or threw something. Finally, he emerged from the yard carrying an old drum. Brad noted that it looked heavy. He wasn't use to seeing his father struggle with anything. He hated what Doug had done to him.

"Dad, what are you doing?"

"Fixing things. Grab a couple of those old metal bathing tubs," Greg ordered.

"Dad, shouldn't you be eating or something to get your strength back. You don't look so good. I'm worried about you."

"No need son. Soon, everything will be back to normal. Better than normal."

"I don't understand," Brad said, getting the tubs.

Greg opened the drum. There was a scent of rotten eggs and other chemicals as he emptied half the drum into each tub.

"Didn't you hear them, son? They talked about some chemical. I ain't no fool. Doug must have been exposed to some chemical at that plant he works at. Same thing happened to me before I began to grow. Well, if that's his secret, two can play at that game. Or three." Greg began to stip off his clothes.

"Dad, you're not going to..."

"You bet I AM!" he said, smiling for the first time. "And so are you. This is the chemical that spilled on me a few years ago. Always thought it might have been the trigger for my muscle, now I know. I was stupid then, washing it off almost immediately, but Doug was in that vat for a while before they dragged his sorry ass out. Wonder what would happen if you and I stayed in the chemicals for a few hours? Now strip and get in."

Brad thought about it. The chemicals smelled rank. He watched his dad step into the tub, and squeeze his huge frame into it, submerging his body as best he could. Eventually, only his Dad's head was above visible above the liquid. His face was flushed, and his teeth seemed to be rattling.

"Whatever happens, we're in this together Dad," said Brad, removing his clothes and climbing into the tub. It burned. There was a pain as the chemicals seeped into his system. He had a fowl taste in his mouth. He felt the urge to jump out, but resisted. Brad passed out.

Brad woke up and looked at a clock. Twelve hours had past. He started to move and realized that there was no liquid in the tub. Had it evaporated? No, the smell was gone. He wondered it his body had absorbed it, but he didn't like that thought. He looked over at his Dad, who appeared to be asleep. Brad stood up and got out of the tub.

"Dad! Dad! Get up!" he said as he walked over to his father. Like his tub, all the liquid was gone from his father's.

Greg grumbled and began to move. He opened his eyes, stood up and began to stretch. "Damn, I could eat a horse!" Brad realized the he too was famished.

The naked men went to the kitchen and rummaged for food. They ate cereal, milk, protein drinks, fruit, bacon, steaks, pasta... anything and everything in the kitchen. Still, they cculdn't quench their hunger.

"Hurry up boy! Shower and get dressed! I know where there's an all you can eat buffet," Greg ordered. Brad could barely think he was so hungry, but he obeyed. Within minutes, both he and his father were dressed and on their way to the strip mall. As they pulled into the parking lot, Brad looked over at the gym on the other side of the lot. "Maybe after we eat we can get a workout, huh Dad," he suggested.

"Maybe, but I gotta get more food first." Greg parked the truck and they went to the buffet.

It only cost $19 for the both of them, but they wiped the place out. The manager came over once and suggested that maybe they had had enough, but Greg stood up, his eight-foot frame towering over the smaller man. "I don't think so," he said. The intimidated manager left. They ate rack after rack of ribs, enough chicken for an army, pasta, soup, anything. After several hours of non-stop eating, they finally felt somewhat full, though not entirely.

Greg finally looked around at the other patrons. They were senior citizens on fixed incomes and obese men and women. Many were staring at the Greg and Brad, whispering about the 'gluttons' and 'how rude' they were for eating everything and leaving little for them. Greg didn't care. He glared at them as he and Brad finally got up to leave.

"So, son, what'ya say about a workout. I'm feelin' something in my bones that I could use a good pump right about now," commented Greg.

Brad pointed to the gym. "Isn't that the gym all those big guys train in?"

"Well, so it is." Greg smiled. "So, let's see if those chemicals did their job."

He and Brad walked to the gym. As they got near, they noticed a big guy getting out of an SUV. He was obviously there to train. He wore a tank top and shorts, his muscles bulging from every angle. As he walked, his quads flexed into massive definition, then relaxed as he took his next step. His arms looked to be over 20 inches, relaxed, and he carried a lifting belt. There was a slight rip in the neck his muscle shirt where his pecs had strained the fabric too much. His delts resembled bowling balls on the sides of his arms. He approached the door to the gym at the same time as Brad and Greg.

Suddenly, the guy slowed. He grabbed hold of a bench on the curb, and shook his head, as if trying to clear it. He sat, then slumped, losing consciousness.

At the same time, Brad and Greg felt something. Power. Strength. Growth. Their clothes felt tighter, then began to burst as each grew fifty pounds, then a hundred, or muscle.

"Whoa!" said Brad.

"Oh ya!" echoed Greg. "We didn't even have to touch him. It's like,"

"his power flew into us." Brad smiled. "Let's get inside!'

Moments after they entered, every patron in the gym had the same reaction as the bodybuilder outside. A few of the lifters were able to replace the equipment, but many simply dropped it or fell over. One or two may have been seriously injured, but it was hard to tell. Greg and Brad couldn't tell, or even care. As the patrons collapsed, they felt it. Power.

Brad reacted first. His shirt split open as his lats and pecs pumped up. Any fat on his body seemed to vanish as his washboard abs became an even more defined 10 pack of muscle. His pants burst, not able to contain his growing quads and hamstrings. The diamond shape of his calves became more pronounced. As each muscle grew, the separation became more apparent, muscle forcing over muscle to define itself and its might. As Brad's muscles grew, he began to get taller. He noticed that he was able to look his Dad in the eye, then he was looking down on him. He needed to duck as his head hit the 15 foot roof, but his growth didn't stop.

Greg felt his body begin to fill out. He felt his power return, and he flexed his massive arm. Then he felt it, more power. He began to grow. His hairy body expanded in every direction. He felt unstoppable, ducking like his son as he became taller than the gym would allow. As he grew, Greg stretched and flexed, feeling the power surging into his body.

As the growth stopped, Greg looked at his hunched over son. "Bit cramped in here, isn't it son?" Greg put his hands on two of the I-beams supporting the metal ceiling. "Wanna help, son."

Brad did the same, placing his hands on two other beams. The lifted. There should have been resistance, but they didn't feel it. Their hands raised as easily as if they were lifting toothpicks and paper. The ceiling ripped from the building, supports crumbling to the ground. Greg flicked his head toward the parking lot, and they tossed the broken metal. It landed on several cars, barely missing shoppers returning to their cars.

Brad and Greg stood. They were at least 20 feet tall and naked. Their phyisques looked like some overly-muscled comic book hero, as large or larger than the Hulk or Superman. Brad walked over to a squat rack that was loaded with 10 plates. He put two fingers on it and lifted it. "Is this suppose to be heavy?" he said with a laugh.

Greg laughed too, his left hand around his right wrist as he flexed his massive arm back and forth.

"Flex your arm in MY face, will you Wilson? Well, now it's my turn! Coming son?" Greg walked toward the gym door, kicking down the wall. His massive cock swinging between his legs, nearly reaching his knees.

"Right behind you Dad." Brad knew his father intended to show Doug Wilson just who the boss was. How dare he and his son try and intimidate them! Now, it was payback time. •