Chapter One
Vince packed up his gym back and made his way to the locker room exit. He paused for one last look in the mirrors. Flexing, he showed off new striations, proof that his his body fat had dropped recently. Vince was cutting. He had eight weeks before contest and he wanted to come in dry and ripped. His reflection smiling, he knew he was getting there.
In the back of his mind, something troubled him. Vince had come in at third place the year before and he was anxious he wouldn't come into the contest ripped enough, not balanced enough, to win over the judges. His legs still felt like they were lagging. His calves especially bothered him. Even at his biggest, when he had bulked up to a seriously beefy, roided out 270 earlier that year, his calves didn't seem big enough. Now he was dropping weight fast. Down to 230 and aiming to come in at contest time at a seriously lean 215. That would be a full 20 lbs. heavier than the year before. Vince struck a most muscular pose. His thick body hair was growing back fast. Ever since ingesting that peculiar XPP formula that had added all that mass to his frame, hair had spread all over his chest, shoulders and back. This was a side-effect Vince had come to accept. He was going to have to shave it all again soon.
As Vince slid into a side bicep pose he couldn't help but think about how far he had come in two years ago. People barely recognized him at his size now. He had been a mere 170 lbs, your average gym rat, only two years earlier. But that was before XPP, that was before he had begun his bodybuilding.
Vince lifted his arms into a double bicep, admiring the peaks of his nearly 20” arms. He thought about Aaron Fisk, who won the weight class last year and Bladen Blackburn, who’d beat him out for second place. That's what irked him most. Vince had come across a supplement that could turn him into the biggest, strongest weightlifter anywhere, but even with his carefully calculated, balanced use of this unique resource, he hadn't won last year. He flirted with the idea of planning something to put his competition out of the picture. He had thought about it a few times. He had a source for a substance so powerful it could change your physique in minutes, all he'd have to do was find out a way to get them to drink it just before competition.
Vince left the gym with his mind feverishly dreaming up possibilities. Some plot that would solidify a victory. He could make sure his competition wouldn't be anywhere near contest shape in eight weeks. The powder had that ability. Now he just had to figure out a way.
_____
It was three weeks out and Calvin Ford was getting nervous. He knew he shouldn’t be, though. His coach told him he was doing great, even better than last year. But Calvin couldn’t help it. He knew he was a little behind on his workout routine, which would probably set him back in fourth again.
The previous year, Calvin had competed in a bodybuilding competition, his first. He had actually done quite well, earning fourth place, higher than many men who had been competing for years. At the time he’d been very proud of himself, which was more than he could say for the guy who placed third in front of him. All that guy would do was pout and glare at the second and first place winners. Calvin had tried to give him words of encouragement after the awards were handed out, but that only seemed to spike the man’s anger. Calvin just didn’t understand some people.
But now it was a year later and Calvin was determined to do even better this time. He’s reached his max bulk weight of 250 and was in the midst of cutting down to his goal of 200. He’d gotten down to 235, but he was supposed to be down to 230. The extra five bothered him more than it should.
Maybe it was his youthful looks, not his weight that hindered him during competition. He had short, blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Still, he loved competing as a bodybuilder and his previous 4th place positioning convinced him he was headed in the right direction.
Having just returned home the the gym Calvin’s doorbell rang. Still a little sweaty, Calvin toweled off as best he could before answering the door. Standing there was a well-built man with greased, swept-back hair wearing an ill-fitting plaid suit. When the door opened, the man peered up and beamed at Calvin with a smile that showed a little too much of his gums.
“Hello, sir!” The man’s voice was high and reedy. He pulled out a small, white card and flashed it in Calvin’s face. “I’m Dick Hassle and I represent an amazing product. May I come inside?”
Calvin was tempted to shut the door, but he didn’t want to be rude to this visitor. But before he could make a decision, the man slipped in through the open door, carrying a small duffle bag in with him. “Thank you, sir.”
A little befuddled, Calvin closed the door and turned to address the man, who was picking up a looking at a few papers Calvin had left on the nearby counter. “Excuse me, but-“
“You’re Calvin Ford, right?” The man whipped out a piece of paper with messy writing from the bag he was carrying. “Fourth place in regional bodybuilding, am I right?”
“Yes, but-“
“Then have I got a deal for you!” The man unceremoniously plopped his bag on the ground and pulled out a small, plastic cylinder. “I present to you an amazing product that you just cannot live without!” He waved his free hand in a flourish around the cylinder, as if he were a magician about to pull a rabbit from a hat. “This, my large fellow, is something we like to call ‘X-Double-P’ for short.”
“Sir, I-“
The man, Hassle, held up a hand. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking ‘Now, Dick, why would I want such a thing? I’m already an impressively large man with a great set of pecs and arms like tree trunks!’ And you would be right. I mean, besides being a little soft in the mid-section you’re practically perfect.”
“I’m still cutting. But that doesn’t-“
“But I travel all around this good country, son, and I’ve seen men like you. Men who think they got what it takes, but it just isn’t enough. I mean, have you even seen last year’s first place winner lately? I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, kid, but I don’t think all the tanning oil in the world could help you take that guy on.”
“I don’t think you know how-“
“That’s where I come in, kid. Just regularly taking this miracle,” he gestured again at the case of XPP, “and there’s no way you’ll ever get 4th place again.”
“But-“
“Not to worry.” Hassle smiled what was probably supposed to be a reassuring gesture. “No steroids, no anabolics of any kind. Just a regular dosage, mixed in with your drink twice a day, and you’ll see results in no time! It's completely safe and I promise you the results will be incredible. The only thing is that it causes some water retention and bloat. But once you stop you dry up and get shredded in no time. Best of all, you don’t even have to pay for it. Think of this as a free sample. Maybe after you win the top spot in regionals you can return the favor with our advert agency, Mass Muscle Publicity.” Dick handed him another business card. “If you decide to take this, you’ll blow your competition right out of the water. And if you get in first, we’ll be in touch. Remember, you take this and we can have ourselves an advertising deal!”
With that, Dick Hassle smiled again, and left through the door as brusquely he came in, leaving a bag full of the cylinders of powder behind.
Calvin stood there for a moment. That had been a strange couples of minutes. He picked up one of the cylinders. It was simple, white plastic with the letters “XPP” printed one side, and a nutritional section on the other. It looked like ordinary protein supplement. He opened the bottle, revealing the white powder inside, and sniffed the contents. It had no scent. He took a pinch and dropped it on his tongue. It had no taste, either. He quickly Googled “Mass Muscle Publicity” and discovered it was indeed an advertising agency for supplements and products. He searched through the staff names and found Dick Hassle there, right there with his photo. It certainly looked real.
Calvin shrugged. He decided that there was no harm in trying it, at least for a week. What was the worst that could happen?
The next morning Calvin woke up. He felt a little bloated, unsure as to why. He quickly threw together a massive breakfast and still felt hungry after finishing it. He packed up some food to go and went to train. He felt energetic in the gym, his lifts were stronger than normal and he couldn't help but wonder if that protein had given him that extra edge. In the mirror he practiced his posing. He felt that he looked a little more off-season than he should, but he reminded himself that with 3 more weeks to go he could drop a lot of water to get the shredded look he needed.
His daily weigh in had him scratching his head. He was back at 242lbs. He wondered if there was something off with the calibration of the scale. He did his best to ignore it and went back home. His appetite came back with a vengeance and he found himself going through all the meals he had prepared for the day. His shirt felt tight. As the day wore on he couldn't help but feel like he was back to bulking. 'Cheat day' he thought to himself. Tomorrow he was going to get serious. Calvin chugged another shake and fell fast asleep.
The next day the bodybuilder felt even more bloated and heavy. He sauntered into the bathroom only to see that his frame looked substantially wider all over. His shoulders, arms, and even stomach had widened and thickened. His chin had a considerable amount of dark stubble and it looked like his chest hair was starting to grow back quickly. He pulled on a workout shirt immediately after breakfast and his special shake and hightailed it to the gym. He started with cardio and a long warm up he was bouncing off the wall with energy, even though everything felt tight. Glancing in the mirror he couldn't ignore that he looked bigger. His chest and arms pulled on his shirt more than ever before. After a hard but inspired workout he set his sights on the scale: 248lbs. He stared long and hard at those numbers. What was happening to him? Was it the water bloat? He felt up his larger arms and grabbed his meaty, increasingly hairy pecs, which lead down to feeling his larger belly. There was no denying that he felt bigger, but was it really just water? His appetite was massive that night. He went off diet a second night in a row, eating almost everything in sight.
Calvin's new eating routine continued for the following day. His appetite remained in overdrive and his clothes seemed to be getting tighter and smaller by the hour. His beard was definitely filling out faster than normal. All of his body hair looked like it had almost completely regrown, and he was starting to sprout hair in new places. The biggest shirt he own was feeling increasingly tight. He swore it felt smaller than it had that morning. He tried to ignore the signals, but a few when the scale read out 265lbs later that evening, he finally swore off any more of that mystery supplement. The mirror couldn't lie: Calvin was getting huge. He was getting hairy. He was getting fat. And if he didn't lose most of the added fat he'd packed on in the last three days, he'd never even place.
At the gym he got stares from some of the regulars who recognized him. He quietly went about his workout, trying to avoid being seen by any of his gym friends. There was no denying that he felt stronger, but there was no way to hide the curve of his new gut. He was less than three weeks out from competition and he had grown so big he was beginning to resemble a powerlifter, rather than a bodybuilder. His chest hair and beard were getting darker, thicker. He felt transformed. He barely recognized the man in the gym mirror. Calvin quietly held out hope that it was mostly a water bloat that would diminish. But one thing became readily apparent by the next morning. Calvin wasn't done growing.
Feeling bulky and massive, Calvin groggily stammered into the bathroom, hitting his shoulder on the door. His jaw dropped at the sight of the man in the mirror. He looked overfed, over bulked, massive, hairy and heavily bearded. There was no doubt he was bigger than the day before. Hell, he was already far bigger than he'd ever been. His dark chest hair had grown from stubble into a full forest, far thicker than normal in merely three days. Beneath heavy, rounded, hair covered pecs sat a heavy looking rounded, furry belly. He held the new mass in front of him with his hands. It felt rounded and firm. How could he ever explain his sudden massive weight increase to his friends or family? Forget the competition, he'd have to diet for months to get back to the shape he needed to be in.
He had an appointment that afternoon with his trainer, who was going to put him through another workout and check-in on his contest prep. He had to cancel the whole thing. Calvin couldn't be seen like this. He had blimped up into a man no one would even recognize. After cancelling on his bodybuilding coach, he explained that he would have to drop competition this year.
Calvin put on the largest clothes he could find, which were still tight across his arms, shoulders and newly developed gut, and headed to a different gym. He couldn't be seen by his gym friends in this overblown condition. How would he explain it? He had ballooned up so fast. He knew this had all started from that goddamned powder.
As the week went on, Calvin's growth continued but at a slower pace. He was forced into buying a completely new wardrobe to fit his incredibly beefy new body. None of his old clothes even came close to fitting. Everything felt different. He felt so massive and heavy, his body felt almost foreign to him. His footsteps caused the wood floors of his house to groan as they had never before. His appetite, although, he was learning to control it, was still far beyond his normal. His thick chest hair had grown out like a carpet and had spread up around his shoulders and now covered his back, and his hairy gut felt rounder and more substantial every day. His bearded face filled out dramatically. Calvin looked absolutely massive. He was a tank, a bull of a man. One week after trying out that fateful substance, Calvin broke 300 lbs. He was stronger than he ever imagined, and beneath the thick layers of added fat, his muscle mass had dramatically increased everywhere on his body. He was now so far from being able to compete, he wondered if he'd ever be able to get in contest shape again.
Chapter 2
Bladen Blackburn received a knock on the door. A broad shouldered, muscular-looking man wearing a plaid suit jacket greeted him.
“Hello, sir!” The man’s voice was energetic. He pulled out a small, white card and flashed it in Bladen's face. “I’m Dick Hassle and I represent an amazing product. May I come inside?
Bladen raised his thick, dark eyebrows.. While Hassle was of good size, Bladen was much bigger. His skin was dark ebony and he had a chiseled jaw and good looks that helped him win fans. His sleeveless, gray t-shirt barely contained his large, muscular chest, and strained to cover his wide, imposing shoulders and bowling ball-like biceps. Bladen was intimidating, even from the back. His smooth, shaven head led down to his thick neck which led to his defined traps and well-shaped back. Bladen even had some extra mass, given he was in the midst of cutting for an important bodybuilding competition in a couple weeks.
“Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want any.” Bladen’s voice was a deep growl. No matter where he went, he’d never heard a voice quite as baritone as his own.
He began closing the door when Dick Hassle thrust one of his feet into the dwindling opening. Bladen was tempted to continue pushing on the door, crushing the man’s foot, but resisted the impulse. Pain would be a last resort.
Hassle produced a sheet of paper from a duffle bag that sat nearby. “You are Bladen Blackburn, are you not? Second place in regional bodybuilding last year?”
Somehow, Bladen’s voice dropped an octave. “What’s it to you?”
Hassle merely smiled, showing too many of his half-crooked teeth. “What if I told you I had something that could guarantee you first place in this year’s competition?”
Bladen considered the man and his proposition. On one hand, it sounded like a scam. Anything that sounded too good to be true usually was. On the other, if the guy really did have something to offer, Bladen could really use it. As ripped as he was, he wasn’t totally confident he could beat out last year’s champion and crowd favorite, Aaron Fisk. That guy’s physique was impressive, and could only be better than last year.
Against his better judgement, Bladen grimaced and opened the door. “Make it quick.”
Still smiling, the man strode in, carrying his bag with him. Setting the bag down, he pulled out a small, white, plastic cylinder and set it on the table. The tube was nondescript, save for the letters “XPP” printed on the side in black, block letters.
“This, Mr. Blackburn, is what we like to call, our little miracle. I little something we like to call ‘’ ‘X-Double-P’ for short.”
Bladen sneered. “I’ve already got plenty of protein powder.”
Hassle held up a finger. “Ah! But you’ve never had anything quite like XPP. It is no ordinary protein powder. It is capable of enhancing a man’s muscles above and beyond what you would be capable of on your own. And, we promise, no anabolics of any kind are used in our product. Think of it like a pre-workout. Something that will boost strength and growth. Also, there are no negative side effects aside from a little water retention and bloating. But once you stop you dry right up and the results speak for themselves.”
Bladen crossed his muscled arms, unimpressed. “Right. Well, I think I’ll take my chances on my own, thanks.”
Bladen was reaching for the door when Hassle spoke up. “Still not impressed, I see. Mr. Blackburn, as you can see by the container, XPP needs a face. We are willing to offer you a $50,000 ad deal with you if you can take first place with the aid of our product.”
Bladen’s eyebrows shot up. He could use the money. And if this stuff did what the man said it did, then he would be a shoo-in for first place. Dick handed Bladen a business card and began to speak.
“The best part is,” Hassle continued. “There is no risk to yourself. We are willing to let you use our miracle product completely free, no strings attached. You have nothing to lose, here, Mr. Blackburn, only to gain. And you have a LOT to gain.”
Bladen glanced from the canister to Hassle, then to his official looking business crd, and back to the canister. “$50,000?”
Hassle’s smile widened. “$50,000. All you have to do is sign this.” He pulled out a blue folder from the duffle bag.
Inside the folder was what looked to be a contract of sorts with “Mass Muscle Publicity” letterhead . Bladen glanced through it. He was no lawyer, but it looked good enough. It seemed to confirm that should Bladen win the bodybuilding competition while using XPP, he would become the official face of the product, as well as the recipient of a $50,000 ad deal.
Bladen signed the contract and handed it back to Hassle, who checked the signature. Hassle smiled and stuffed the paper back into the duffle bag.
“A pleasure, Mr. Blackburn.” He handed Bladen a canister. “This is yours. Simply add it to your regular protein shake and ingest twice a day. I assure you, the results will be immediate. I look forward to seeing your progress at the competition. Good day, Mr. Blackburn.” With that, Hassle left, taking his bag with him, leaving only the canister of XPP.
Bladen picked it up and turned it over. He opened it and sniffed the powder. He took a pinch of it and dropped it on his tongue. It was scentless and practically tasteless. At least it wasn’t something nauseously awful.
He smirked and scooped a double serving into a cup. Just to ensure immediate results Bladen decided to use twice the powder and see what happened. Competition was close and he needed all the help he could get.
Bladen headed off to the gym a few minutes later. He felt some added spring in his step. He couldn't help but notice his huge energy boost as he worked out. He was pushing up more weight than normal and he felt less exhausted than usual after each set. He saw in the mirror that his shirt was hugging his chest nicely, his arms looked pumped. He was feeling pretty good about whatever supplement he had just tried.
He noticed his pump lasted longer than usual as he left the gym. His arms felt thick. They were already a massive 20" around, but at that moment they looked closer to 21". His shirt felt snug, even along his back. Even his shorts felt a little tight.
Bladen was massively hungry; after he rushed home he went through three Tupperware meals he had stuffed away in his fridge. He couldn't believe he ate that much, but he wondered if the powder had something to do with it. He felt full and he looked it. His stomach was sticking out and his pants felt tight, but he passed it off as the damage of a massive lunch. After about an hour Bladen left to buy groceries and found, much to his surprise, that his stomach was growling at the supermarket. He realized he was starting to shop under the influence of hunger. He couldn't quite figure out why he felt so hungry, since he had just eating a huge meal.
As he headed back to his car with his groceries, he couldn't help but notice his reflection in the rear window. He looked jacked and wide. No wonder his shirt felt tight, his biceps looked like cannons carrying those bags. Even his stomach seemed to stick out. Again, he shrugged it off as the damage of his massive appetite.
That evening Bladen mixed his double shake full of XPP and sat down on the couch. He felt bigger, he couldn't explain it, but he just felt heavier and more massive.
The next morning the bodybuilder got up, starving, he immediately jumped up to get to the fridge. He was sort of thrown off by what felt like heavier footsteps. Looking down he could see his stomach still looked puffed up, but so did his chest and arms. Everything felt bigger, meatier. Before even thinking about it, he chugged down another double dose of XPP, ate a massive breakfast and got ready for the gym. He didn't even bother checking his reflection before he left, but he felt like his tank top was getting incredibly tight. It was hugging his chest like never before.
At the gym he started with a cardio warm up. Even with all his energy, he could feel his body getting winded after only a few minutes. He swore he felt more of his body mass bounce with his jog. Must be the water bloat, he reasoned. Sure enough, the mirror showed that Bladen looked a hell of a lot bigger all over. His chest, shoulders, arms... stomach, ass.... Everything looked rounded and full. He could hardly believe his eyes. He looked like he was back in the peak offseason. His short beard looked longer and thicker too, even though he had just trimmed it a day ago. Thoughts swirled around his mind. He had spiked his workout shake with an additional dose of XPP, but now he was having second thoughts about this miracle substance. He was stronger than ever, with a huge amount of energy, but he looked incredibly bloated. There was no mistaking his size now. The big man sauntered over to the scale. He didn't know what to think. It was less than weeks out from competition and he needed to drop another 15 lbs.
The scale read 252.4 and Bladen freaked out. He knew he felt big, but he had no idea he had blown up by 25 lbs in the matter of a day. There was no way it was right. He stepped off and back on again: 253 it said. He couldn't believe it. The scale had to be broken. But even if it was, he clearly was carrying a lot more weight. He could sense that. Bladen was supposed to drop down to 215, how the hell was this weight going to come off?
He tried to remain calm. If it had come on so fast, maybe he'd drop it just as fast. He stomped out of the gym, his heavy footfalls making the floors shake.
Bladen was starving, but furious. What had that powder done to him? He looked over and over his body in the mirror. His massive chest looked much fuller, rounder but less defined, his bowling ball shoulders looked wider, thicker, his arms looked massive his lats felt so thick they were pressing against his arms, and his abs... his abs were history. They were completely missing. His stomach had thickened and spread into a distended off-season muscle gut. Even flexed his abs looked faint. He pinched his stomach and to his horror he easily grabbed onto an inch of fat. He could even see love handles starting to form on his side. He lumbered over to the scale he had tucked under the sink. 257 it read. He let out a trail of obscenities as he stormed into the kitchen and threw the remaining XPP at the wall. It exploded into a fine dust the clouded the kitchen. "Fuck this shit! This shit is sabotage!" he yelled furiously.
It took several minutes for Bladen to calm down. He sat there, huffing and puffing, unknowingly breathing in even more powder. He was still so hungry, which seemed to only add to his temper. Finally he gave into his stomach and began eating. He broke down a little as he stuffed more sweet potatoes into his mouth. Sobbing quietly, he knew that his chances at the competition were over. Unless something miraculous was to happen, he wouldn't be competition-ready until next year.
Bladen awoke the next day, delirious from a night of stuffing himself, and having momentarily forgotten about his ordeal. Though, he soon remembered it as he got out of bed. He could feel the odd combination of boundless strength and dragging heaviness. He quickly hustled his overlarge body to the bathroom to get a look at himself. He immediately wished he hadn’t
If he thought he thought he was big before, he was enormous now. His pecs were huge and round, threatening to destroy his shirt. His shoulders were incredibly wide, almost comically so. He could feel the enormous muscles of his arms, but the definition he had had was obscured under the layer of softness.. His stomach, larger and rounder than he had ever seen it dominated his torso, now folded a few inches over his waistband. It’s shape too large to be contained, it had caused his shirt to ride up , exposing the unwanted flesh.
Needless to say, Bladen was shocked. He wasn’t the biggest man he’d ever seen. He’d seen powerlifters who were significantly heavier than his current size, but there was no way he could ever be mistaken as a professional bodybuilder. In despair, Bladen’s hands flew to his face. His large, meaty hands encountered something strange. Looking up to his face, Bladen was in for a second shock. His once finely trimmed beard has grown wild and unruly, the hairs forming a bushy mass dominating his lower jaw, though, thankfully, hiding his more rounded cheeks. What was more, his shaved head was shaved no longer, at least a week or two worth of stubble decorating his scalp. Glancing down, Bladen saw the backs of his hands were also decorated in numerous black hairs, which seemed to also cover his forearms. Bladen had always been naturally smooth and regularly shaved what little body hair he did have. Looking closer at his exposed stomach, Bladen noticed a generous coating of black curly hair, which he’d never had before.
With some hesitancy, Bladen stepped onto the scale. He had to know, though he was afraid of the answer. His fate was displayed in red, glowing, electronic numbers: 296.
Panicking, Bladen hustled as fast as his overfed body could carry him. He grabbed his phone and began phoning his personal dietician. He needed help, and he needed it fast. Screw the competition at this point, if this kept up he’d never be able to fit through his door!
As the phone rang, Bladen noticed the fine white powder which covered half his kitchen, as well as the dented, plastic container that had held the XPP. In his rage and depression he’d neglected to clean up the mess. How could he have been fooled by such an obvious scam?
Finally the other end picked up.
Bladen tried to keep calm as he spoke. “Hey. It’s me, Bladen. I need you here as soon as possible. It’s an emergency. What?! Tomorrow? But I need you here now! No, I don’t- But it’s- !” The other end hung up.
“Fuck!”
His stomach growled and he realized he was starving. He looked up at the ‘fridge. He opened it and began to devour what he had missed on his feast the previous day, and he hated himself for it.
___
The next day, Bladen’s dietician arrived. He rang the doorbell. There was no answer. He tried again, still nothing. He whips out his phone and calls his client.
“Bladen, I’m at your front door. Where are you? What does that mean? No, nobody will see you. I thought this was an emergency. Do you want my help or not? Unlock the door, Bladen.”
The door clicked and opened a crack. Impatient with his client, the dietician shouldered his way inside.
“Bladen, I’ve had enough games! What?” He stopped short, mouth agape at what he saw. “Good lord! What happened to you!?”
Standing before him was what looked like a massive powerlifter. His enormous bulk filled a much too small sweatshirt, the largest Bladen had. His muscles were outstanding, and outstandingly powerful. Their size prevented Bladen from quite lowering his arms down to his size, and possibly even impeded him from fully moving his head. On top of the muscles was the quivering bulk. In rounded out his form and made him significantly wider than he’d ever been before. His pectorals, while still impressively muscled, had begun to lose their form, looking softer and starting to droop. His stomach had rounded out long ago, hanging a good foot over his too-tight waistband and leading in whatever direction he was pointed. Even his face hadn’t remained unscathed, his sharp features lost to round forms, his cheeks becoming round and chubby, and his chin now sharing space with a second. His beard had grown long and bushy, hanging six inches off his face and growing high on his cheeks. Every other inch of him was covered in black, curly hair, an experience Bladen had never imagined before. The hairs were everywhere, his arms, his hands, his belly, his chest, even his back hadn’t escaped. It made him extremely uncomfortable and, now that his dietician was there, embarrassed.
Bladen had blown past 300 lbs. the previous evening. He could only imagine how much he weighed now, seeing as he couldn’t stand on the scale and see the readout at the same time. Luckily for him, though his changes had pretty much ended, leaving him standing with his dietician, both of them attempting to fathom just what the hell had happened.