Recalculating Muscular Calibrations
Another piece for exatron, who decided that he was a better sculptor of muscle than Theo is, with the power of SCIENCE! Naturally, he chooses Renard to be his guinea pig. Illustrated by cedricbrowning who is pushing it to the limit.
Art © cedricbrowning
Dan © exatron
Story © c'est moi
Dan Bergstrom was the king of his gym; but then, he would be the king of almost any gym. To call him big and strong was practically an understatement, as he towered over the other patrons. The huge cheetah’s spotted pelt traversed a mountain range of muscle; his swollen biceps stretched and warped his own spots as he finished off a set of curls, lifting enough weight in each arm to constitute some of the smaller gym clients. His chest puffed up with each heavy breath, wide as a car hood. He dropped the weights with a heavy clunk of iron, and frowned softly as he looked over his form in the gym’s wall length mirror. He adjusted his glasses to make sure he had seen it right; but no, much to his dismay, he wasn’t getting any bigger. He looked down at his pride and joy; his legs. Those rods of iron were close to splitting his shorts wide open, with the tear drop shaped quads surging with each step and thighs wide as tires rolling off each other, leading Dan to adopt a swagger as he walked.
The problem, however, is that they were close to splitting his shorts. The shiny pair of orange shorts had been a gift he had been meaning to get rid of from a well meaning, if colorblind, Aunt; and he had no better excuse than pumping up and bursting out of his clothes. But he hadn’t been able to do that for months. His tail twitched irritably as he moved to the lockers, digging into his gym bag. He pulled out a business card he had been holding on to for a few years now, stamped with fanciful gold that read “Theodosius Augustus Charlemagne Gregorius Iarlaith Bresson, Esq. Philanthropist and Artist.” Dan flipped the card over. “Looking to make a deal, Mr. Bergstrom?”
Dan rolled his eyes. “Theo, I just want to know about your other clients.”
He flipped the card over again. “Say please.”
The cheetah took a deep sigh, massaging his forehead as his biceps mashed against his chest. “Please.”
“Ah, there we go! That was not so hard, now was it?” A pearly white smile appeared, followed by a cat’s face with green fur and impeccably groomed white hair. The Cheshire Theo was broad shouldered and barrel-chested, but also genteel, dressed in an opulent blue and gold suit that was better suited to Versailles than Powerhouse Gym. He bowed floridly, his smile growing wider. “And how are we today, Mr. Bergstrom?”
“I was hoping I could look over your client list- the muscular ones, not the fatties. I’m looking for a workout partner, and I figured I’d start with the bigger end of the spectrum.” He shrugged his huge shoulders. “I’m also interested to see how your magic affects others after a long period of exposure.”
Theo arched his brow, but nonetheless a Rolodex large as the cheetah’s own inflated bicep appeared, floating next to Dan. “Why ever do you need a workout partner, Mr. Bergstrom? You are perfect, just as you are.”
“Mm, we have different definitions of ‘perfect,’ Theo,” the cheetah muttered, flipping through the names. “Oh, Renard. I know this guy…”
The Cheshire’s smile twitched. “Forgive me, Mr. Bergstrom, but that sounds alarmingly close to a complaint.”
Dan wobbled his hand. “Less of a complaint, more of constructive criticism.”
The Cheshire’s tail was twitching now, but his smile only grew wider. “Is that so, Mr. Bergstrom? Well!” He rested his chin on his hand. “I am, as they say, all ears.” His pointed ears detached, floating close to the cheetah.
“Look, it’s not like I’m not grateful, but when you were done with me, anyways, you did make me a little top-heavy. That’s a look some like, but let’s be honest, you kinda left me with chicken legs.” He slapped his meaty thighs, making the overgrown muscle ripple. “I took care of it, though. I never skip leg day.”
“Did you, now?” Theo hummed.
“Now that we’re on the subject, I think your formula, that Drink Me potion, ought to be looked at. When’s the last time you reviewed the recipe?”
Theo’s eyes flashed red, but he was still smiling wide. “565 AD, Mr. Bergstrom. I benefited from Byzantine alchemists.”
“Ah, so,” Dan smirked, crossing his arms. “You’ve not done any work with, say, amino acids or creatine?”
“I do not believe I have, no,” Theo said through clenched teeth.
“Well, there’s your problem. If you gave me a sample, I could probably make that Drink Me formula much more effective. You know, bring it up to snuff with modern chemistry. I’m doing great work studying CRISPR DNA sequences.”
“Well, this is just my lucky day, is it not?” Theo’s smile was clearly not sincere any longer as he summoned a gold tipped cane, and began to pace around the huge cheetah. “Six thousand years of experience under my belt, creating some of the greatest legends of the ages, and here you are, Mr. Bergstrom, to tell me how to do my job.”
“Look, it’s not my fault science is starting to outpace your magic.”
Theo’s smile did disappear at that. “I beg your pardon?”
Dan, still cool as a cucumber, shrugged his mountainous shoulders again. “I’ve been doing a lot of research, and I could replicate what you do with much more precision- with muscle, at least. I have to admit, I’ve got you to thank for the boost to intelligence, but physically speaking, I can make works of ‘art’ like yours with a relatively straight forward process.”
“Is that a fact?” Theo’s smile returned. He snapped his fingers, and a hulking hybrid appeared in a puff of smoke. Though not as large as the cheetah, he was an impressive specimen; his tailored vest and tie spanned a body to shame most bodybuilders. His limbs were roped with heavy muscle, his chest filled out his shirt to make it look like a billowing sail, with his torso tapering down to a finely sculpted V-shape. A lion-like tail swished behind his pants, but his face was distinctly lupine, crowned by a mane of strawberry blond hair.
“Gah!” The hybrid jumped, then swore under his breath as he spotted Theo. “Oh my God, Theo! What’ve you done to me now?” He then glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, hey, Dan.” His eyes bulged. “Wait- Dan?”
The cheetah nodded with a smile. “Hey, Ren.”
“Ahem.” Theo rapped his cane on the floor. “Dear Mr. De Fleureaux, it would appear that I have been replaced. According to Mr. Bergstrom, I have not been fulfilling the end of our bargain. So! You are no longer my client.”
“Wait- what?” Renard blinked.
“A pity, but apparently you will be in excellent hands with Mr. Bergstrom. Do let me know if it does not work out, Mr. De Fleureaux- I will always be here if you have need of a true artist. But until that day, I’ll just take my imperfect mass with me.” Theo snapped his fingers over Renard’s protests.
“I am really not okay with- wait, stop!” The lupine hybrid’s face fell as he watched himself shrink. Complete with the sound of a balloon losing air, the hybrid’s limbs deflated, his broad torso narrowing until he was left swimming in his own clothes. Grabbing the bundles of cloth hanging off his now average sized body, he stared at the Cheshire. “Theo, what the Hell?”
“You can direct your complaints to Mr. Bergstrom, Mr. De Fleureaux.” Theo was smiling once more, then rapped his cane on the floor again as his body began to fade away, leaving only his smile. “Tatty-bye.”
“Dan!” Renard, wild-eyed, looked up at the cheetah that now absolutely loomed over him. “What the fuck happened? What did you do?!”
The cheetah bit his lip. The lolf hadn’t done anything to deserve this sudden loss, but it dawned on him that he could fix this. He grinned again, throwing his arm around Renard’s waist and hoisting him up, throwing the hybrid over his huge shoulder. “Don’t worry, Ren. We’ll show Theo that science makes everything better- even his magic.”
“I have several reservations about this!” Renard cried as he was carried off.
“People always do, when science is involved!”
Dan jogged all the way to the lab he worked at, giving his massive legs a chance to pump themselves up and get a decent burn going. He finally let Renard down from his shoulder as he flicked on the lights. The lab was a truly professional set-up, with rows of computers still running equations, an impeccably organized row of cabinets with formulas and samples of amino acids, DNA strains, and proteins. A sterilized table had two weighted wristbands that glowed with green LED lights, and there, in a somewhat cluttered corner filled with an absurd amount of workout equipment.
The lolf whistled low. “Why do you even need a gym when you have all this?”
Dan rubbed the back of his bull neck, teasing his brown hair. “Well… I kinda like having an audience. Here.” He led Renard to the table, and offered him the wrist bands. “Put these on. They’re a prototype, but paired with…” He looked over his chemistry set, then grabbed a small vial of neon blue liquid. “This little number, we’ll have you back in shape, and then some, in no time at all.”
The lolf stared at the wristbands and formula skeptically. “I… really did not sign up to be your guinea pig.”
“Look, Ren, this is kind of my fault since I set Theo off, so I want to make it right. This stuff is… mostly safe. And what do you have to lose? Either it works, in which case, great. If it doesn’t, well, we call Theo back, he gets you back to the way you were and I take a hit to my pride.”
The lolf bit his lip, tapping his foot before he sighed, grabbing the wrist bands and fitting them on now too thin arms. “Alright. What do I have to do?”
Dan grinned, pushing the vial into his hand. “Bottoms up. Then, you do whatever you want with my weights back there. If this works as it should, you can build yourself up the way you want.”
“That almost sounds too good to be true… then again, so did Theo, so.” Renard toasted Dan with the vial. “Here goes nothing.”
The formula had the faintest taste of ozone; clearly, Dan hadn’t gotten around to flavoring it. But as it slipped down his throat, Renard felt a renewed sense of energy. The wristbands, measuring his heart rate, beeped cheerily, and increased their weight.
“The wristbands will get heavier the more you work out, to give you a little added resistance.” Dan explained, leading Renard over to the workout equipment. “That’s just a side feature, however- they’re really sending small shocks into your blood stream, decreasing your myostatin to encourage more muscle growth.” He slapped Renard on the back, nearly sending him sprawling on the floor. “Now, go get ‘em!”
Dan was hiding his nervousness; there was a ninety percent probability that his formula would work just fine, a nine percent probability it would have no effect, and a one percent chance that Renard would explode. He figured the lolf didn’t need to know the odds.
Thankfully for the both of them, the lolf did not explode; and after a few sets, he was growing. Renard’s ears began to perk up as he watched his chest inflate with each breath and rep on the bench press, his tawny fur once again sprawling across a pair of pecs that hardened and swelled the more he worked. “It works… wow, it really works!” Renard laughed out of relief, and, grinning to Dan, moved on to the dumbbells for some hammer curls.
“Don’t forget to throw in some squats! I won’t have you running around with chicken legs.” The cheetah was grinning too, but he was also watching Renard intently. The slowly growing lolf had good form, at least. Maybe he could be a workout partner, if all went well…
After only two hours, Dan felt like he had just watched a particularly beefy soufflé rise up in the oven, and for once, he was the one cast in another’s shadow. Yes, this formula was a definite success. The evening had been spent watching Renard’s chest charging forward like an advancing army, his limbs swelling with rock hard muscle, and his back surging out like a mighty pair of wings.
Standing before Dan now was an absolute behemoth. The sheer mass of Renard’s pectoral muscle jutting off his body could have been used as an umbrella in the rain, and those engorged slabs rose and fell with each deep breath. It cast a shadow onto eight anvil-sized abdominals that shifted along with his pecs. Arms that looked capable of reducing a dump truck into a pile of scrap with a single punch clenched, the short, tawny fur covering the hybrid unable to hide a sliver of the powerful definition. Biceps simply wouldn’t stop brushing against the sides of his chest, despite the wing-like lats flaring off his chiseled torso. Sequoias looked like twigs compared to the columns of quadricep muscle on display, the teardrop easily larger than Dan’s head, which the cheetah was particularly happy about. The only scrap of clothing adorning this titan was a strained blue speedo, unable to obscure any of his monstrous legs. Slowly Renard’s upper body tilted forward, revealing the mountain range of his trapezius muscles, the thick collar of fur that would have surrounded his neck added to his mane thanks to how his traps and pecs swallowed the pillar of muscle.
“Hold still,” Dan ordered, and Renard, still a little dazed, complied. Raising up his arms, his face eclipsed by his own biceps, he struck a pose.
“...I think I’m big enough, now,” the lolf said a little breathlessly as the cheetah threw a tape measure over the peak of his arm.
The tape just managed to cover the entirety of his arm’s mass- and that was the one Dan used to measure his chest. The cheetah grinned in an almost Cheshire like manner. “For now, yes. So, let’s talk scheduling. I’m in need of a new spotter, and well. I don’t think anyone else will be able to keep up with me- oh, this is exciting! I’ve not had to catch up with someone else for a long time.”
Renard nodded, his chin wedged in the cleft of his pecs. “Right, uh, sounds great, but… I’m not going to be able to talk you out of gloating to Theo, am I?”
“Oh, not a chance.”
Art © cedricbrowning
Dan © exatron
Story © c'est moi
Dan Bergstrom was the king of his gym; but then, he would be the king of almost any gym. To call him big and strong was practically an understatement, as he towered over the other patrons. The huge cheetah’s spotted pelt traversed a mountain range of muscle; his swollen biceps stretched and warped his own spots as he finished off a set of curls, lifting enough weight in each arm to constitute some of the smaller gym clients. His chest puffed up with each heavy breath, wide as a car hood. He dropped the weights with a heavy clunk of iron, and frowned softly as he looked over his form in the gym’s wall length mirror. He adjusted his glasses to make sure he had seen it right; but no, much to his dismay, he wasn’t getting any bigger. He looked down at his pride and joy; his legs. Those rods of iron were close to splitting his shorts wide open, with the tear drop shaped quads surging with each step and thighs wide as tires rolling off each other, leading Dan to adopt a swagger as he walked.
The problem, however, is that they were close to splitting his shorts. The shiny pair of orange shorts had been a gift he had been meaning to get rid of from a well meaning, if colorblind, Aunt; and he had no better excuse than pumping up and bursting out of his clothes. But he hadn’t been able to do that for months. His tail twitched irritably as he moved to the lockers, digging into his gym bag. He pulled out a business card he had been holding on to for a few years now, stamped with fanciful gold that read “Theodosius Augustus Charlemagne Gregorius Iarlaith Bresson, Esq. Philanthropist and Artist.” Dan flipped the card over. “Looking to make a deal, Mr. Bergstrom?”
Dan rolled his eyes. “Theo, I just want to know about your other clients.”
He flipped the card over again. “Say please.”
The cheetah took a deep sigh, massaging his forehead as his biceps mashed against his chest. “Please.”
“Ah, there we go! That was not so hard, now was it?” A pearly white smile appeared, followed by a cat’s face with green fur and impeccably groomed white hair. The Cheshire Theo was broad shouldered and barrel-chested, but also genteel, dressed in an opulent blue and gold suit that was better suited to Versailles than Powerhouse Gym. He bowed floridly, his smile growing wider. “And how are we today, Mr. Bergstrom?”
“I was hoping I could look over your client list- the muscular ones, not the fatties. I’m looking for a workout partner, and I figured I’d start with the bigger end of the spectrum.” He shrugged his huge shoulders. “I’m also interested to see how your magic affects others after a long period of exposure.”
Theo arched his brow, but nonetheless a Rolodex large as the cheetah’s own inflated bicep appeared, floating next to Dan. “Why ever do you need a workout partner, Mr. Bergstrom? You are perfect, just as you are.”
“Mm, we have different definitions of ‘perfect,’ Theo,” the cheetah muttered, flipping through the names. “Oh, Renard. I know this guy…”
The Cheshire’s smile twitched. “Forgive me, Mr. Bergstrom, but that sounds alarmingly close to a complaint.”
Dan wobbled his hand. “Less of a complaint, more of constructive criticism.”
The Cheshire’s tail was twitching now, but his smile only grew wider. “Is that so, Mr. Bergstrom? Well!” He rested his chin on his hand. “I am, as they say, all ears.” His pointed ears detached, floating close to the cheetah.
“Look, it’s not like I’m not grateful, but when you were done with me, anyways, you did make me a little top-heavy. That’s a look some like, but let’s be honest, you kinda left me with chicken legs.” He slapped his meaty thighs, making the overgrown muscle ripple. “I took care of it, though. I never skip leg day.”
“Did you, now?” Theo hummed.
“Now that we’re on the subject, I think your formula, that Drink Me potion, ought to be looked at. When’s the last time you reviewed the recipe?”
Theo’s eyes flashed red, but he was still smiling wide. “565 AD, Mr. Bergstrom. I benefited from Byzantine alchemists.”
“Ah, so,” Dan smirked, crossing his arms. “You’ve not done any work with, say, amino acids or creatine?”
“I do not believe I have, no,” Theo said through clenched teeth.
“Well, there’s your problem. If you gave me a sample, I could probably make that Drink Me formula much more effective. You know, bring it up to snuff with modern chemistry. I’m doing great work studying CRISPR DNA sequences.”
“Well, this is just my lucky day, is it not?” Theo’s smile was clearly not sincere any longer as he summoned a gold tipped cane, and began to pace around the huge cheetah. “Six thousand years of experience under my belt, creating some of the greatest legends of the ages, and here you are, Mr. Bergstrom, to tell me how to do my job.”
“Look, it’s not my fault science is starting to outpace your magic.”
Theo’s smile did disappear at that. “I beg your pardon?”
Dan, still cool as a cucumber, shrugged his mountainous shoulders again. “I’ve been doing a lot of research, and I could replicate what you do with much more precision- with muscle, at least. I have to admit, I’ve got you to thank for the boost to intelligence, but physically speaking, I can make works of ‘art’ like yours with a relatively straight forward process.”
“Is that a fact?” Theo’s smile returned. He snapped his fingers, and a hulking hybrid appeared in a puff of smoke. Though not as large as the cheetah, he was an impressive specimen; his tailored vest and tie spanned a body to shame most bodybuilders. His limbs were roped with heavy muscle, his chest filled out his shirt to make it look like a billowing sail, with his torso tapering down to a finely sculpted V-shape. A lion-like tail swished behind his pants, but his face was distinctly lupine, crowned by a mane of strawberry blond hair.
“Gah!” The hybrid jumped, then swore under his breath as he spotted Theo. “Oh my God, Theo! What’ve you done to me now?” He then glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, hey, Dan.” His eyes bulged. “Wait- Dan?”
The cheetah nodded with a smile. “Hey, Ren.”
“Ahem.” Theo rapped his cane on the floor. “Dear Mr. De Fleureaux, it would appear that I have been replaced. According to Mr. Bergstrom, I have not been fulfilling the end of our bargain. So! You are no longer my client.”
“Wait- what?” Renard blinked.
“A pity, but apparently you will be in excellent hands with Mr. Bergstrom. Do let me know if it does not work out, Mr. De Fleureaux- I will always be here if you have need of a true artist. But until that day, I’ll just take my imperfect mass with me.” Theo snapped his fingers over Renard’s protests.
“I am really not okay with- wait, stop!” The lupine hybrid’s face fell as he watched himself shrink. Complete with the sound of a balloon losing air, the hybrid’s limbs deflated, his broad torso narrowing until he was left swimming in his own clothes. Grabbing the bundles of cloth hanging off his now average sized body, he stared at the Cheshire. “Theo, what the Hell?”
“You can direct your complaints to Mr. Bergstrom, Mr. De Fleureaux.” Theo was smiling once more, then rapped his cane on the floor again as his body began to fade away, leaving only his smile. “Tatty-bye.”
“Dan!” Renard, wild-eyed, looked up at the cheetah that now absolutely loomed over him. “What the fuck happened? What did you do?!”
The cheetah bit his lip. The lolf hadn’t done anything to deserve this sudden loss, but it dawned on him that he could fix this. He grinned again, throwing his arm around Renard’s waist and hoisting him up, throwing the hybrid over his huge shoulder. “Don’t worry, Ren. We’ll show Theo that science makes everything better- even his magic.”
“I have several reservations about this!” Renard cried as he was carried off.
“People always do, when science is involved!”
Dan jogged all the way to the lab he worked at, giving his massive legs a chance to pump themselves up and get a decent burn going. He finally let Renard down from his shoulder as he flicked on the lights. The lab was a truly professional set-up, with rows of computers still running equations, an impeccably organized row of cabinets with formulas and samples of amino acids, DNA strains, and proteins. A sterilized table had two weighted wristbands that glowed with green LED lights, and there, in a somewhat cluttered corner filled with an absurd amount of workout equipment.
The lolf whistled low. “Why do you even need a gym when you have all this?”
Dan rubbed the back of his bull neck, teasing his brown hair. “Well… I kinda like having an audience. Here.” He led Renard to the table, and offered him the wrist bands. “Put these on. They’re a prototype, but paired with…” He looked over his chemistry set, then grabbed a small vial of neon blue liquid. “This little number, we’ll have you back in shape, and then some, in no time at all.”
The lolf stared at the wristbands and formula skeptically. “I… really did not sign up to be your guinea pig.”
“Look, Ren, this is kind of my fault since I set Theo off, so I want to make it right. This stuff is… mostly safe. And what do you have to lose? Either it works, in which case, great. If it doesn’t, well, we call Theo back, he gets you back to the way you were and I take a hit to my pride.”
The lolf bit his lip, tapping his foot before he sighed, grabbing the wrist bands and fitting them on now too thin arms. “Alright. What do I have to do?”
Dan grinned, pushing the vial into his hand. “Bottoms up. Then, you do whatever you want with my weights back there. If this works as it should, you can build yourself up the way you want.”
“That almost sounds too good to be true… then again, so did Theo, so.” Renard toasted Dan with the vial. “Here goes nothing.”
The formula had the faintest taste of ozone; clearly, Dan hadn’t gotten around to flavoring it. But as it slipped down his throat, Renard felt a renewed sense of energy. The wristbands, measuring his heart rate, beeped cheerily, and increased their weight.
“The wristbands will get heavier the more you work out, to give you a little added resistance.” Dan explained, leading Renard over to the workout equipment. “That’s just a side feature, however- they’re really sending small shocks into your blood stream, decreasing your myostatin to encourage more muscle growth.” He slapped Renard on the back, nearly sending him sprawling on the floor. “Now, go get ‘em!”
Dan was hiding his nervousness; there was a ninety percent probability that his formula would work just fine, a nine percent probability it would have no effect, and a one percent chance that Renard would explode. He figured the lolf didn’t need to know the odds.
Thankfully for the both of them, the lolf did not explode; and after a few sets, he was growing. Renard’s ears began to perk up as he watched his chest inflate with each breath and rep on the bench press, his tawny fur once again sprawling across a pair of pecs that hardened and swelled the more he worked. “It works… wow, it really works!” Renard laughed out of relief, and, grinning to Dan, moved on to the dumbbells for some hammer curls.
“Don’t forget to throw in some squats! I won’t have you running around with chicken legs.” The cheetah was grinning too, but he was also watching Renard intently. The slowly growing lolf had good form, at least. Maybe he could be a workout partner, if all went well…
After only two hours, Dan felt like he had just watched a particularly beefy soufflé rise up in the oven, and for once, he was the one cast in another’s shadow. Yes, this formula was a definite success. The evening had been spent watching Renard’s chest charging forward like an advancing army, his limbs swelling with rock hard muscle, and his back surging out like a mighty pair of wings.
Standing before Dan now was an absolute behemoth. The sheer mass of Renard’s pectoral muscle jutting off his body could have been used as an umbrella in the rain, and those engorged slabs rose and fell with each deep breath. It cast a shadow onto eight anvil-sized abdominals that shifted along with his pecs. Arms that looked capable of reducing a dump truck into a pile of scrap with a single punch clenched, the short, tawny fur covering the hybrid unable to hide a sliver of the powerful definition. Biceps simply wouldn’t stop brushing against the sides of his chest, despite the wing-like lats flaring off his chiseled torso. Sequoias looked like twigs compared to the columns of quadricep muscle on display, the teardrop easily larger than Dan’s head, which the cheetah was particularly happy about. The only scrap of clothing adorning this titan was a strained blue speedo, unable to obscure any of his monstrous legs. Slowly Renard’s upper body tilted forward, revealing the mountain range of his trapezius muscles, the thick collar of fur that would have surrounded his neck added to his mane thanks to how his traps and pecs swallowed the pillar of muscle.
“Hold still,” Dan ordered, and Renard, still a little dazed, complied. Raising up his arms, his face eclipsed by his own biceps, he struck a pose.
“...I think I’m big enough, now,” the lolf said a little breathlessly as the cheetah threw a tape measure over the peak of his arm.
The tape just managed to cover the entirety of his arm’s mass- and that was the one Dan used to measure his chest. The cheetah grinned in an almost Cheshire like manner. “For now, yes. So, let’s talk scheduling. I’m in need of a new spotter, and well. I don’t think anyone else will be able to keep up with me- oh, this is exciting! I’ve not had to catch up with someone else for a long time.”
Renard nodded, his chin wedged in the cleft of his pecs. “Right, uh, sounds great, but… I’m not going to be able to talk you out of gloating to Theo, am I?”
“Oh, not a chance.”
Category Story / Muscle
Species Unspecified / Any
Gender Any
Size 1280 x 770px
ain't nothing wrong with growing through science
and CedricBrowning did an amazing job with the beef on you and Exatron
and CedricBrowning did an amazing job with the beef on you and Exatron
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