Two weeks had passed from the party and Ryan was feeling hurt. He was feeling confused. He was feeling mad. And most importantly he was feeling jealous.

His brother was plugging his girl. It just wasn’t cool.

As if the first week after David had drank the formula hadn’t been enough of a rollercoaster on its own. You have to keep in mind that although Ryan had a build that a college jock might envy, he still had the emotional maturity of a high school student. He was used to being top dog among his brothers. He had been supplanted not only by a new bigger, older brother, but also as the new star of the football team.

Not that Ryan had envied his brother. He was happy for him. Or he had been until that night at the party. It wasn’t like the Coach had neglected him. He’d been given a can a day and he had grown rapidly over the last three weeks. He’d checked the scales that morning and seen the needle tip to 213 pounds. His arms had exploded with new size and power. It had been intoxicating to experience.

But that all seemed second rate. He was plagued with a vision of watching Karly Jones cream on his brother’s cock.

It made Ryan so angry he couldn’t speak sometimes.

But he also knew that there wasn’t much he could do except get even. He just wasn’t sure how to go about that. After all, David was weighing in at around 270 pounds. His growth had slowed after about 230 pounds. But his muscle mass had continued to get denser. David had let Ryan feel his arms and it was like touching warm steel. And David’s lifts had increased as well. In fact, David had outstripped all the equipment in the school gym and now trained directly with the Coach. There was no amount of weight available that David couldn’t lift anymore.

Ryan knew he couldn’t compete with that. Not unless he took extra cans too. David had consumed like 70 or more in one sitting. Plus this week alone he’d had 25 that Ryan knew of. Where was he supposed to get that? The Coach kept everything hidden under lock and key now. He also didn’t bring in more than a week’s supply at a time to the school.

But David wasn’t the only on in the Martin family blessed with some brains. Ryan’s just worked a little slower is all. It occurred him after a couple days that the Coach must keep the cans somewhere offsite. And if you found that location, you found the Holy Grail, which was something Ryan remembered reading about in English class once. Ryan didn’t know what it was, but he knew the expression was appropriate to the situation.

Gotta play it cool. Gotta keep it quiet.

Ryan let another week pass. He felt his own muscles getting stronger every day. His lifts increased and he’d attracted the notice of Brandon Small, who thought it was very, very odd that Ryan was growing so fast. Brandon knew something was definitely up. Ryan was around 230 pounds. Which meant that he was nearly Brandon’s size at least 250 pounds. Previously it was only the Coach himself who had been bigger. And it had taken Brandon three years to achieve his massive physique. He was going to be damned if one little punk freshman was going to outdo him. A junior like David Martin showing up out of nowhere was bad enough.

But no one really paid any attention to Brandon anymore.

Ryan decided to take a page out of his mother’s book. She always said patience was a virtue. And Ryan was rewarded when he discovered where the Coach kept his cans.

One day he’d followed McCready back to his house after one Saturday practice. He knew had the Coach under careful observation for days. He wasn’t loading anything from his house or garage. All the guys knew that Coach kept a cabin out in the woods for hunting. Ryan decided that it would be a good place. Very out of the way and not likely to attract any attention. On his bike it took a while, but his powerful legs were up to the challenge and he sped along the back road paths like a Tour de France cyclist.

It took him some time to locate the cabin. Some consultation with folks who, like the Coach, knew the back hills. After several trips he found it. The tire marks in the mud were clearly those of the Coach’s big truck. After some exploration, it turned out that the place wasn’t even locked. Close inspection revealed there wasn’t a lot there of value anyway. And the lock was old, old. But there were no cans there.

Ryan was about to give up and go home when he spied a trail leading into the woods. About 200 feet back from the cabin and down a little hill was a storage shed. It was pretty good size and the door was bolted shut. Its windows were positioned too high to look into.

“Hey, dude, what ya doing?” asked a voice from behind him.

Ryan spun around in a complete panic.

Brandon stood smugly behind him with his arms crossed.

“Shit,” said Ryan, “You scared the fuck out of me.”

“Yeah,” said Brandon, “Well that ain’t hard.”

Brandon looked big and pumped. Like he’d come from a good workout.

“You’re looking for the cans ain’t you?” asked Brandon.

“How’d you know?” asked Ryan.

“You ain’t the only one who can put two and two together asshole. I know there’s something going on. And your brother didn’t just show up out of nowhere. He’s was that little geek right? There’s no way he could go from geek to muscle freak in two weeks without some help. It’s gotta be those cans man.”

“Yeah,” said Ryan, “Well I figure they gotta be in there.”

He motioned with his thumb back at the shed.

“Let’s find out,” said Brandon.

“But it’s locked,” replied Ryan.

“Like you think a little padlock is going to stop this big fucker,” said Brandon. His right arm flexed powerfully, putting to shame many a lesser man. “I’ve been taking these cans for three years dude.”

He grabbed hold of the lock and twisted. The lock gave a metal whine as its mechanism fell apart against Brandon’s superior force. It, along with the parts attached to the door, came off in Brandon’s hand. With his left hand he forcibly pushed open the door, taking it off it hinges.

“Holy shit,” he said stepping inside.

The place was huge. It looked big from the outside, but inside it was full of the familiar boxes stamped with Niodex, Inc. There were hundreds of stacked boxes.

“Wow,” said Ryan, echoing the other man’s sentiment.

“And to think that lousy fucking bastard has been rationing me out those cans for three years at 10 cans a year. I coulda been huge!”

They both stood there for a second and then Brandon walked over and tore open a box. The magic liquid was inside. He took a can, popped the lid, and gulped it down.

“Man,” he said, “That’s good.” After a pause, he looked at Ryan, “So how many of these has your brother taken?”

“I don’t know,” said Ryan, “At least 125. That’s about five boxes.”

“Well I better double that then,” said Brandon thoughtfully. He picked up as many as he could comfortably carry: six boxes, a weight that would have given anyone else a hernia, and started walking back to his vehicle. Ryan was in awe. He was also irritated that Brandon had followed him. However, he grabbed four boxes and followed Brandon back to his truck. Better to get him out of there as quickly as possible.

“Hey, dude,” he said, after Ryan brought him four more boxes, “Thanks for the help, but I guess you’re shit out of luck. McCready’s gonna find out sooner or later someone found his stash. And you got no way to take any home with you.”

He laughed as he packed up the boxes, got in the truck and headed out for his home, eager to try out his new prize.

Ryan realized Brandon was right about one thing at least. Ryan only had a bike and no way to take any cans with him to be drunk at a later date. Guess he had only one choice then.

He headed back to the shed to start drinking. •