Jimmy woke suddenly. His long neck was sore, and his lean arms felt like lead, weighed down by his own drowsiness. His eyes first registered darkness, then slowly adjusted to the room that he was in. The room was bare, around 5 feet in width and height, with a nondescript metal texture to the wall. There were no windows, or anything that he would use to pinpoint his location.
Jimmy was sitting on a wooden chair. What had happened last night? Jimmy wondered as he stood up to get out of his seat but couldn’t budge. He looked down, and saw, with a dawning realization, that he was tied to the chair.
Suddenly, the previous events from yesterday came to him in a blurred flash. He had been working out at the gym yesterday, like he had for a week, but he could see no difference in both muscle and figure. Jimmy was a skinny 20-year-old, weighing in at just 90 pounds, and he was cursed with height. Being 6” 6’, every time he went to Publix, people would ask him for help reaching boxes of food on the tall shelves. His goal was to put a stop to it, by working out until his arms bulged with enough muscle that any old lady who thought about asking for help would change her mind when she saw the thick bazookas than Jimmy possessed.
Last night, after he was packing up his workout clothes and water bottle to leave the gym, he had been approached by a seedy looking man and a scraggly, skinny old woman who was dressed in was seemed to be white holey robes. The duo looked like they had wandered in from the street. Even though the gym had was indoors, the woman’s robes were floating as if possessed by a mysterious ghost. The man was short and stubbly, had an impressive potbelly with the combination a head of stringy, mostly missing black hair. Jimmy couldn’t be sure, but it was pretty clear that this man wanted something. The man hobbled up to Jimmy as he put the weights back on their holders. The gym was completely empty except for the two of them; Nobody wanted to workout at 1 in the morning.
The man opened his mouth to speak, and a raspy, croaky voice came out. “Salutations, young man. I am the CEO of Muscle Milk © corporation, and this is my associate. We have chosen you to represent our product”. The man whipped his hand into his pocket, and Jimmy jumped back, afraid of what the stubby man would pull out, but it was just a clear plastic bottle, filled with a mysterious white liquid. “Take a drink, and you’ll see results is 4-6 hours”. The man grinned devilishly.
“What kind of results?” Jimmy asked, cowering from these two strangers.
The short man pulled back the sleeves on his shirt to reveal a thick bicep. Jimmy gasped, the muscles on the arm were so thick a boa constrictor would be jealous. “After drinking some Muscle Milk ©, this is the result”. The man flexed his bicep, and Jimmy almost drooled. He would murder to attain muscles as thick as those. He snatched the bottle out of the man’s grasp, and glugged down half of the bottle of Muscle Milk ©. The old lady with the white robes watched, interested. Jimmy licked the Milk Moustache © from his lips and patted his belly. The Muscle Milk © worked its way through Jimmy’s system. Like the stubby, trustworthy man had said, Jimmy would be ripped in 4-6 hours. Jimmy sighed and sad down on the floor. Suddenly, pain seared through Jimmy’s chest. He gasped, and writhed on the floor, feeling like he had just eating a car battery. The pain was excruciating. The short man now towered over Jimmy. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a white chef’s hat, putting it on his bald head. “Gandmamaso, proceed with the plan.” He called to the old lady with white robes. The last thing Jimmy saw while he was conscious was Gandmamaso dragging his body out of the gym door.