Ryan wasn’t sure how anyone would get his number. All they sent were details about a quick job, a one-time thing in from a small town museum. True, he’s done B&E twice, and he’s never been caught, but he’s also never done it for hire. A few minutes after the first batch of texts with the item’s description, the guards’ routines, a layout of the museum, and a few pictures of the item (some egyptian dog mask), his anonymous client abruptly stopped messaging. Ryan let it sit. Could be a setup or something, not worth getting locked up for. Another app on his phone buzzed.
“Deposit received: $162,000.00 to account ending 9917. Reply STOP to disable messages.”
Moments later, a new text arrived, “Are you paying attention now?”
“Flex.” The name should have given it away. Maybe Dale thought it was just a trendy name. Maybe part of him expected what it was, and wanted it. Dale wasn’t usually a night-owl, but tonight was an exception. The construction work had finished and the site had been closed, so he was off for a week before the next contract started.
No matter how it came to be, he recognized the signs as soon as he walked up to it. Ingress™ brand XX-Wide doors. Markus Upheaval® heavy duty shatter-resistant floor tiling. Second-level support pillars at about 3’ diameter, regularly spaced, the building code’s requirement for hyper activity-bearing floors. This club wasn’t just for normal-sized folks like him. Sure, Dale was of the burly sort. That happens when you work in construction for two and a half decades. Burly doesn’t come anywhere close to the people this club had in mind. These folks were on the order of tons, not just hefty. It would take four Dales just to get close in weight to a lighter hyper.
“But doc, I just feel so small compared to the other guys at the gym.”
The counselor sipped on his coffee as his patient continued.
“I can’t help staring at them – their heaving bodies, the weights they’re using… there’s no way I can ever be like that, but I want to so badly.”
The therapist jumped in. “Can you tell me why you want to be like them?”
His client stopped and wondered for himself. After a long pause, he admitted he didn’t know why, he “just did.”
Another sip of coffee. The therapist marked down a few notes in the chart, and flipped back to the beginning of the folder.
“You’ve been seeing me for a year and a half.”
The client nodded.
“When we started, you were 5’7”. You weighed 172lbs.”
The client continued to nod.
“I don’t have a scale handy, but I’m sure you’ve weighed yourself recently – how much do you weigh now?”
“Turn your head and flex. Start with your calves; I’ll let you know when to continue.” The wolf did as he was told. His calves reached 56” around. The doctor took note on his clipboard. “On to your upper legs, please.” 68”. “Relax your waist for a moment, please.” The doctor wrapped the reinforced, quick-extend tape measure around the wolf’s bulky midsection and round glutes. The wolf flexed. 140” around. The doctor counted the abs and obliques by pairs. Full 8 pack. The doctor pinched a bit next to the wolf’s bulging brick-like abdominals. “Your fur looks to be in good shape, Andrew. Alright, on to your back.” The wolf flexed his defined, map-like back. The doctor measured depth and width. Both were on the larger side of the doctor’s memory, but not enough to make him the largest. “Good, good. Arms by your side please.” The doctor stretched the measuring tape around the wolf’s broad, striated shoulders. Measurements of his chest (depth and circumference), arms (upper arm and forearm circumferences), his neck circumference, and his trapezius height came after. The doctor had to stand on a ladder to complete the measurements.
Hanter island is one of the few hyper-friendly fishing spots on the east coast. It only takes a few minutes by tugboat to get to the island, but the experience can last a lifetime. It is one of only two islands situated to provide access to the largest game fish. Hanter has two main attractions: “dive” fishing, and the pier. Diving for hypers is more like an underwater walk, since the equipment to allow them to swim would be cumbersome and inflexible. Traditionally, divers would use spear guns to fish while submerged, but hypers usually opt for more… manual methods. Because of their immense strength, the water offers relatively less resistance, allowing them to reach out and grab fish as they passed by. Some have taken this as an opportunity to pick fights with the larger aquatic inhabitants, as is commemorated by the yearly Great White Wrestling Tournament. (hint: the Great Whites haven’t won once.)
The fishing pier juts out by a half mile, and is the only pier in the northern hemisphere rated to withstand not only the weight of 40 large-class hypers, but also the stresses they’d incur while fishing. Essentially a solid block of metal and concrete, the largest fish recorded have been caught at the Hanter pier. Roughly once a quarter, a lucky hyper will reel in a whale or two, but run-ins with activists have caused the Hanter supervisors to implement a catch-and-release (honestly, more like a catch-and-throw-two-miles) policy for certain species of sea creatures.
The tape reel in your hands shows its age. The label says “ANNOUNCE: HYPERS 9/18/1966” with a Department of Health, Education, and Welfare seal. Even if it weren’t for the mental images the archaic term “tape reel” evoked, the caked-on dust and grime from the station basement confirmed the date. It was one of the old standard-issue FCC broadcast reels for special events and emergencies. You tossed this one on the cart to check out upstairs. A few more reels were in the cabinet Station Management had you archiving. You have the distinguished honor of being the only winter intern, and the station needed to repurpose the basement as a studio before next fiscal year. You’ve learned some things on the assignment, but mostly you’re bored to tears. The tape scanner only runs at real-time, so you’re stuck watching hours-long nightly news broadcasts and advertisements that some jerk thought to save. This was the only reel so far that didn’t look like it was recorded in-station. That alone had earned it your interest. Your supervisor stopped by to make sure you were at least awake in front of the scanner. He noticed the unusual tin, and pulled up a chair as you loaded this one. The scanner focused in and finished its test sequence. You keyed in the filename and label from the tin, and the machine started. You had muted the speakers to save yourself from insanity during the earlier footage, but this one you (and your boss) wanted to hear. The Department of Health, Education, and Welfare seal fades in, and a male narrator begins to read.
“This is a public service announcement from the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare.
Drew smiled to the receptionist through the door camera. She buzzed him in, as usual for 9:00 AM, Monday through Friday. This was his eighth year, seventh month, and twenty-third day at Shippman Inter-modal Transportation (usually just called Sh.I.M. by the more charitable, and something else by the less.) He was one of the four ShIM employees that had nothing to do with shipping, trucking, packaging, sorting, or logistics in general. Drew Prince was the sole Human Resources department of the entire shipping fleet. Every hire, fire, promotion, raise, and complaint rolled across his desk at one point or another. Today, Drew had the benefit of knowing ahead of time that today would be an unusual day. Today was Peter’s first day on-site. It was only a matter of time before it happened, but that didn’t do much to put Drew’s mind at ease. Peter had been Drew’s main project for the past six months.
```
>go to work
>fuck, forgot to grab lunch
>go down to the break room
>all but one vending machine is broken (fucking typical)
>this one has “”““health”“”” themed products
>only nuts, dried fruit, and protein bars
>your stomach rumbles
>protein is pretty filling, right?
The Citizens With Special Sizes Act had done a number on brick and mortar business. Karla was just thankful that Samsa Square Mall had survived the refit with enough cash saved to open back up afterwards. Her first steps in the newly rebuilt superstructure were shocking, to say the least. The new automatic doors were three stories tall! No wonder the mall shut down for almost a full year. The set of new laws specified that certain classes of public buildings had to be retrofitted suit the “growing” population of… larger inhabitants. The building hadn’t changed much other than that. The traditional four story mall-style building had enough accessibility between the levels that the inspectors deemed it passable. Stores will have to keep a clerk out near the ledge of their floor to help the larger customers buy from the merchants within. The next thing Karla noticed was the ground floor – it was so solid now! Where mild tile had once been laid, steel-reinforced concrete now stood. The pillars supporting the different levels had also been bolstered to survive accidental collisions without jeopardizing the structural integrity of the building. Soon she saw the reasons for the renovation, lumbering down the central passageway. The Earth trembled as the approaching crowd of hypers stomped through the food court.
```
>going out with this new girl
>just got coffee, going to the gym a few buildings down the street
>she's nervous, but you reassure her that everyone there will be friendly at best, and minding their own business at worse
>that doesn't seem to calm her down one bit
>you sign in and get her a barcode card for herself
>she's so nervous she's shaking
>you manage to get her over to the freeweight section
>she's pale as a ghost
>she stammers “I don't think this is such a g-good idea”
>“nonsense, it's just a little light exercise”
>“anon, there's something about me you should kn-”