The Giant of Bright Tower, Chapter 20

The next morning, I found Bubba in the kitchen cooking breakfast in his apron without a shirt on.

“Good morning, Sunshine” he turned and held a mug of coffee towards me handle first. “how ya feeling?”

“Blarg.” I took the coffee and took a large gulp. “Aspirin will be kicking in soon.”

Bubba chuckled as he returned to his frying pan. “What, never went out partying before?”

“No,” I nursed my coffee, keeping it right under my nose so I could inhale the caffeine, “You don’t have a PhD at my age by going to a lot of parties or clubs.”

“I didn’t hear any retching noises, least you’re keeping it down.”

“Is that a bright spot the day after? That I didn’t vomit.”

Bubba took the apron off and carried several plates to the kitchen table. Sitting down, he slid a plate of fruit my way, which I accepted. Nibbling on a slice of apple, I asked, “That big guy from last night was mean for no reason.”

Bubba exhaled through his nose, “Yep. He was.”

“Do you know him?”

“No, only his type.” Bubba threw some scrambled eggs into his mouth. “The way his veins stood out on his arms meant that he has been using steroids for a very long time. He had more muscles on his upper body than his lower body, which means he’s only lifting for show; though his legs get enough of a workout carrying his gut and ego around.” Bubba chewed some more eggs and drank some orange juice. “Not a guy I would like having at my gym.”

The orange juice looked really good. Pouring myself a glass, I asked, “Isn’t it dangerous to use steroids for a long time?”

“Yes,” Bubba replied, “Use it too long, and your body stops making it on its own. I think that guys is way past that point.”

We both ate in silence for a bit.

“Hmmm.”

“What’s up boy?”

I blinked. “I’m just thinking…steroids are about adding a hormone to yourself, correct?”

Bubba nodded

“And my goliath serum is about seriously revving up your bodies production of the hormone. Right?”

“Yeah, go on.”

I stood up and started pacing the kitchen, “the similarity between the two is that there is an increase of hormones. But what about-“ I stopped in the middle of the kitchen, one hand pressing into my forehead.

“Go on boy. Go on” Bubba said softly, listening hard.

I turned, “It’s not about how much or how strong the hormone is….what about your bodies ability to use it.” I turned, “the body has to be able to make use of everything the goliath serum produces, otherwise it just becomes waste!”

Bubba looked like he wanted to join in but didn’t know if now was the right time.

“It doesn’t matter how chemically efficient your gasoline is, the car engine has to matter too!” I summarized, “I made some truly spectacular gas, but I didn’t think about the car because I just thought that a car automatically knew what to do with gas.

Bubba was still on the edge of his seat

“I think I know how to move forward.”

Bubba leapt up in celebration, wrapping one arm around me and viciously rubbing my head, “I knew you’d think of something boy.”

“Stop it.” I struggled, “let me go.”

“Not until I rub all that ‘can’t do attitude out’”

--

Bubba wanted to celebrate tonight at an all you can eat buffet. I asked him why as my breakthrough helped point me in the right direction, but did nothing to help with the new mountain of workload now before us. He told me to shut up and be happy.

Bubba squeezed himself out of his truck into the crisp night air. The restaurant looked warm and inviting, various smells filled the half full parking lot. As Bubba and I approached, there was another person walking in the parking lot, and It wasn’t until we were close enough to the light that I realized who it was.

“Hi Victor.”

Victor turned to see us and smiled. He and Bubba bumped fists, “Hey professor Steve, Bubba, How’s it hanging?”

“To the knees in the breeze,” Bubba replied. Victor laughed.
 “What brings you here tonight, Victor?”

Victor shrugged, “All the dorms have the same 2-week rotating menu. After a while, it go real boring. You guys come here often?”

“This is Steves first time here, not mine.” Bubba shook his gut, “Acutally were here to celebrate.”

“Oh, whats the occasion?”

“Steve here has made a big breakthrough on-“

“That project” I finished, elbowing Bubba in the hip.

Bubba rolled his eyes, “Yeah, ‘that project.” Bubba made the air quotes.

“Well, congratulations,” Victor reached forward and opened the door to the restaurt and bubba ducked inside.

Looking around, while Bubba was certainly the biggest person here, he really didn’t stand out. Men, women, children, didn’t matter. Everyone was plus sized and sitting around tables loaded with multiple plates stacked high with food. A chorus of forks and knives scraping plates, chewing, and the occasional belch filled the air like ambient music. The hostess barely glanced up from her phone as they arrived,

“Table for three?” she asked in a bored voice.

We all looked at each other and Victor shrugged his shoulders

“Sure, table for three,” Bubba replied, clapping a hand on Victor’s shoulder.

Sliding her phone in her pocket, she wove them around tables laden with thanksgiving-level amounts of food to a table a short distance from the dessert bar, where a chocolate fountain bubbled happily surrounded by trays of strawberries and marshmallows.

“Have you been here before,” she asked to which Bubba nodded and she happy fled back to her post.

“Why don’t you two go-“ Like I needed to finish that sentence before Bubba and Victor were off to get their plates, the first of many. I sat back and watched them move through the line, bypassing the salad section and hitting the meats hard. When each had three plates balanced on their arms, they slowly made their way back to the table. I got up to give them more room to set their plates down and went to get my own.

The steam from the sweet and sour chicken was steaming my glasses as I sat back down. I saw that both of them had already finished two plates apiece.

“Chill guys, it’s not a race.” I said picking up my fork.

“Actually,” Bubba said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes, “Victor and I made a little bet while you were gone.”

“First one to ten plates wins.” Victor said, spearing three popcorn shrimp on a fork and shoving it in his mouth.

“Seriously?“ I asked, rubbing my forehead. “why are you doing this?”

“Cause its fun to eat,” Bubba replied, “And I’m gonna win.”

“Well you clearly didn’t grow up with siblings,” Victor said, standing up over his cleaned plates, “Eat fast or you don’t eat at all,” he said over his shoulder as he headed back to the bar.

Bubba furiously chomped down the last few bites from his plate, and still chewing stood back up to follow Victor. I was slowly enjoying my food as Victor sat back down with his next three plates and was halfway done with one by the time Bubba sat back down.

“You better keep it up boy, I’m right behind you.” Bubba said, tearing into a leg of chicken.

“Says the guy who lives on weight shakes.” Victor shot back, tearing into some spring rolls, “Face it, you can’t handle calories that weren’t shaken up in a bottle first.”

They both smiled and kept eating. Bubba’s shirt began it’s slow climb up his belly, and Victor’s button up was starting to show some strain. A busboy appeared and whisked away the growing pile of empty plates. Neither Bubba nor Victor showed any signs of slowing down, occasionally taking to look up from their plates at each other and grinning.

Plate after plate stack up. Victor finished and went up for his next load of food. Bubba shoved five meatballs in his mouth and followed. When I had finished my one plate, Victor had returned with his final four plates, all loaded.

“Jesus Victor.”

“Just you watch,” He grinned boyishly, and dove in. Bubba returned with his next three, plopped down on a protesting chair. He saw that Victor had grabbed four plates, swore, and got up to grab his last. By the time he returned, Victor had already cleared one plate.

“Better catch up,” Victor said as he dove into some pasta.

Bubba huffed and started eating. Both had slowed down but showed no signs of stopping. Bubba’s shirt had now crawled up above his navel and was straining against his belt. Victors’ shirt was now stretching against his expanding waistline. Buttons straining, his white undershirt showing through gaps made between them.

Bubba had a plate and a half to go when Victor started on his last. Panting a little, Bubba shoved the rest of his plate in his mouth and pulled his last towards him. Victor was shoveling food into his mouth, one hand on his gut for support. Finally, with a clatter, Victor dropped his spoon onto his now empty tenth plate.

Bubba, taking the time to finish his last plate, leaned back and said, “Damn son, you sure can eat.” Victor laughed, both hands on his protruding gut that now filled the space between him and the table. Bubba pushed himself back to make room as his huge gut had expanded even more. Both leaned back with looks of satisfaction, mirroring each other as they moved their hands in slow circles around their stomachs.

“Well, you win,” Bubba burped. He picked at his teeth a little, “Wanna want for a prize?”

Victor burped as well. One hand resting comfortable on his gut, he thought about it for a minute. Then he turned and looked at me.

“I want in.”