Super Sonar- Part 3

Sonar has apparently racked up quite a few HR complaints, but it seems like customer reviews are really coming in clutch for him- now all he has to do is focus on his personal growth within SDN. Enjoy!

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"So, I'm sure you can guess why I wanted to talk to you, Sonar." Robert began.

"Nah, not at all, man. What's up? What's going on Robbie?"

Robert stared up at Sonar. "You… You're joking, right Sonar? Like… c'mon, man. I know you're not stupid. You can't shut up about going to Harvard."

Robert had decided for an informal discussion with Sonar, which had nothing to do with the fact that during the last staff meeting, the overly muscular beast of a bat mutant had managed to buckle the door frame and tear off one of the doors with one thrust of his huge arm. Sonar had still been doubling down, insisting that he had merely gotten stuck in his beast form— hence why he had no other option to show up to work in nothing more than a pair of briefs that would pass for a parachute for an average adult. With the crystal still working its magic on him, Sonar's strength was now greater than any superhero registered with the SDN, and every part of him was massive and hulking, from his back rippling with thickly corded burls of muscle, flaring out into an even wider tableau than his old wingspan, to mighty arms so heavy with brawn, Robert could probably fit comfortably inside one of his biceps. The range of his shoulders billowed out, framing his heavy pecs, with the crystal still wedged tighter than a bitcoin bro's profit margin between his two mounds of chest muscle, while engorged thigh muscles with fat, tear-shaped quads could shake the ground with even the smallest step.

"Man, I've been telling you Robbie— I'm just… stuck like this right now." Sonar shrugged, folding his massive arms.

"Sonar— Victor—" Robert cleared his throat. "Don't bullshit me. I can clearly see Blazer's gem wedged between your cleavage. I ought to write you up and let Human Resources ride you five ways to Sunday with all the crap I could slam you with— reports of public indecency, inappropriate work attire, stealing company property, lying on official reports—" He leveled a stern glance at the hulking bat creature. "Do I need to go on? This is not your monster form, and I know that, because I've seen your monster form, and it didn't come equipped with junk so large, it could have its own zipcode."

Sonar pouted, furrowing his heavy brow. "Hey man, you're the one over here talking about another man's junk, Bobbie— I literally came in here, just to grab a twink."

"There are no more twinkies because you ate all of them. You picked up the snack machine like it was a pez dispenser and shook all of them loose!" Robert prodded the nearest bulge of muscle he could find, his finger not even making a dent in that solid wall of beef, and yet he was undaunted. "The only reason you're not being disciplined formally because… fuck if I know… your customer survey results are actually excellent. Granted, some of the comments leave… little to the imagination about why they request you so often these days."

"Oh Hell yeah." Sonar smirked, flexing one arm as his bicep filled in every inch of available space, close enough the bat didn't even have to move his arm to kiss that enormous boulder of muscle. "I knew I looked good."

"This isn't about looking good, Sonar!" Robert snapped. "I'm putting my foot down, and giving you an ultimatum— either the gem comes out from between your boobs, or I'm putting you on probation— unpaid."

Before Sonar could respond, Robert stormed out of the break room. The bat's face fell— he had just paid upfront for a year's worth of a gym membership, the most exclusive one in LA, just to get closer to his idol, Willem Vanderstenk. He caught his reflection— what little of his face he could see when it wasn't being wedged out by his own musculature— and sighed. He didn't want to give up so much beef… But maybe he could make him and Robert happy after all, as his eyes drifted to the red glint of the crystal. He would just need a little more juice to make it happen.