The Competitors Ten - Armnold Flexes

“Are you ready, sir?” 

Armnold looked up from his work. He had been polishing his bicep, slowly and gently rubbing some essential oils into the bulging muscle to bring out the natural lustre and make it look like he was covered in a permanent sheen of light sweat.

Was it important?

Was the sun rising the sign that the day would be good?

Armnold flexed a little harder, the veins in his arms popping out beneath his skin. Oh yeah, this looked good. “I am ready,” he said before tossing his rag aside.

Like most competitors, he had found a place for himself beneath the grand arena. The whole building was interesting, impressive, even. He wasn’t the sort of man that could be won over with a few toys, but he found the space to his liking anyway.

Armnold had lived his entire life in this corner of the Jade Empire, and he had little care for the Empire itself. He was only proud of three things: His bros, his sect, and his body. Now, though? Seeing Yu Xiang from the streets when they were this clean and tended to, seeing new buildings going up all over, hearing thousands of people cheering... yeah, he was pretty proud of his home too.

They needed more gyms, though.

When he had asked, they had brought him some heavy things to lift up and put back down in that little home they made him stay in, but that wasn’t the same.

A gym was more than just a place to work out. It was a place to be with your bros. To some, it was home.

The little skeleton that had come to fetch him bowed, then gestured deeper into the arena’s underground. Armnold stood and followed after it.

He didn’t much like the undead. Not the skeletal ones, at least. He put a lot of effort, years of it, into getting into shape, and while he knew that not everyone had the privilege to do the same, he still felt proud of what he’d accomplished.

The fact that these undead couldn’t? That bothered him a little. Still, it didn’t do to be rude about it.

One of the guys back at the Lava Fist sect had a lil’ bro that was born a little wrong, and he couldn’t walk straight or lift things. That didn’t make him bad or anything. The little dude was funny and tried to be helpful. Armnold felt bad for him, was all. 

“So, what’s it like being dead?” he asked.

The skeleton bounced a little, bones rattling before he turned and stared at Armnold. Or he probably stared. The undead’s eyes were two small wisps of greenish energy that wobbled faintly in its eye sockets. “Pardon?”

“What’s it like, being dead,” Armnold repeated a little louder. The undead dude didn’t have ears, so maybe he couldn’t hear him. 

“I suppose I haven’t spent very much time thinking about it,” the skeleton said. He glanced down at the slipboard he was holding onto, then back up to Armnold. “We ought to keep moving, your bout will be occurring soon.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Armnold said. 

“Good, thank you... I... I think I enjoy experiencing things.”

“Yeah?” Armnold asked as he continued to follow the undead. The corridors were kind of empty. Just long, low-ceilinged rooms with nothing but grey walls. At least it was clean, even if it was all a bit drafty. “Like, doing new things?”

“Yes. I don’t have very many memories from before, but I don’t think I had a very exciting life. Now I’m doing things in death that I wouldn’t have in life, and I think that’s interesting. Not that I advise that you give up on life, or anything.”

“Nah, no need to worry about that. If I die, who’s gonna keep these babies in top shape, huh?” Armnold flexed his arm out, then grinned as the skeleton’s beady eye-balls tracked over his bicep.

The skeleton nodded. “I suppose no one would. I don’t know if I miss muscles too much.”

“Ah, that’s no good. Muscles make the world go round!”

“I’d rather think that’s gravity?”

Armnold sniffed. “What is gravity, if not the muscles of the universe?”

The undead’s eyes dimmed for a moment before their glow returned. “I don’t know what I expected, but that wasn’t it. I think things are a little more complicated than that. Ah, in any case... Each contestant can pick the terrain for their side of the battlefield. What would you like?”

“I can pick anything?”

“Sure.”

“Like a gym?’

“Yes... that can be arranged.” The undead started to write something.

“Wait, no,” Armnold said. “Make it a gym on a field of boiling lava. With steam vents.”

The undead paused, then looked up. “Are you certain?”

“Yeah.”

“You know that you’ll be starting on that side of the arena, yes? You will be disqualified if you die before the battle begins. That has happened twice already, today.”

Armnold sniffed. “Don’t underestimate me so much, little guy. I’m Armnold! I am strong!”

“Very well.”

Armnold chuckled at the easy dismissal. “Do you not care whether I live or die, little undead man?”

“I am not a man,” the undead said.

Armnold was taken aback for a moment. He had not considered that the undead might not be. Then again, he supposed that even women had bones.

The undead woman took a few more steps before realizing that she was not being followed. She stopped, then turned to discover Armnold bent over in half, his back straight, his arms by his sides. He was bowing as deeply as he could, and considering that he rarely skipped leg day and stretched frequently, his bow was deep indeed.

“What are you doing, contestant?”

“I am apologizing!” Armnold shouted at the floor. “I didn’t mean to insult you!”

“Oh... that isn’t necessary.”

“It is!” Armnold said as he sprang back to standing. “What good are the muscles of your arms, if you’ve never lifted with your humility.”

“I don’t know if that actually makes any sense. In any case, we are going to be late?”

“The crowd can wait!” he declared. 

The undead woman paused, then shook her skeletal head. “Fine, if it will allow you to move with alacrity, then you’re forgiven.”

Armnold flexed his face muscles and smiled. “Thank you! You have a strong heart to forgive me!”

“I don’t have a heart at all, contestant Armnold,” she replied. “Can we hurry along?”

Armnold grunted and picked up the pace. It wasn’t long before they were at the base of an elevator designed to climb up and into the main arena. 

“Stand there. Yes, that’s right. Once the elevator has risen, step out and onto the platform. Do not begin until the master of ceremonies declares the start of the fight. You will also notice red flags being lowered to signal the start, if you are unable to understand the speaker. Do not purposefully fling spells into the crowd. Do you intend to, or are you capable of using biological weapons?”

“No?” he said. “Unless... does my perfect physique count as a biological weapon?” He flexed, to be sure.

She stared him up and down. “It does not.”

“Hmph.”

“Do you have any other questions?” she asked.

Armnold grinned. “Yes! What is your name?”

Usually, when talking to someone, he asked them about their routines, or their favourite source of proteins, but that didn’t feel right here. The undead woman’s glowing green eyes flickered. “My designation is Sis Thousand Two Hundred and Four.”

“That’s your name?” he asked. “Truly? Then I’ll make that many reps once I’m done winning!” 

She sighed. “My friends call me Lisa. Morna Lisa.”

Armnold was about to say something back, but the elevator clunked, then started to slowly climb upwards. The last he saw of Lisa, for the moment, was the skeleton touching her bony cheek and looking away.

Yeah, he still had it! 

Now, to flex for the whole world to see! 

***