Flexenstein's Monster- Part 4

For Halloween, Dr. Flexenstein is finally ready to show his creation to the world, and all the massive gains he's packed on- he may not be a bodybuilder in the traditional sense, but the good doctor definitely knows how to build bodies. Enjoy!

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"Ingrates! Peons! How could they say that I, Dr. Flexenstein, did not deserve a first place medal of my own? It is a bodybuilding contest, and I built the body!" Flexenstein ranted, pacing around the vast circumference of his creation, clad only in a pair of posing trunks and having just won his first bodybuilding contest— a bittersweet debut for his creation, Flexenstein thought ruefully. The truly titanic creature was now an amalgamation of dozens of the greatest deceased bodybuilders, as Flexenstein had worked day and night to build him into the ultimate paragon of strength and power. Being recognized as the greatest was well-deserved, and, to Flexenstein, glaringly obvious— but the lack of accolades for him, personally, still irked him. He needed something to replace his revoked medical license and doctorate, after all.

"I have half a mind to drag each and every judge on that panel back to the castle, show them every grueling detail of our process, the absolute genius of my design, and then, then see if they think I don't deserve a trophy!" he snarled. "You could have literally crushed the competition beneath your treads, and as your creator, trainer, and manager, you would think I would deserve some of the credit!"

While he continued to rant, however, the creature groaned with concern, furrowing his heavy brow. "Did… I do bad?"

The creature's voice snapped Flexenstein back to reality. "Oh, no no no, my darling creation." Flexenstein said consolingly, patting the creature's enormous, trunk-sized leg. "You've not done anything wrong." 

The creature picked Flexenstein up, the doctor's keen eye roving every swollen, sculpted detail of the creature's monumental body. Those pillar-like legs held up an edifice of awe-inspiring mass and power, the soaring buttresses of his burly lats, the immense canyon of his chest, the sheer girth of his boulder-like biceps and sprawling skyline shoulders. Flexenstein rested a hand on the jutting shelf of his creation's chest, and kissed the creature's cheek. He had not only stolen the power of life from the gods, he had made a god. 

The creature rumbled deeply, flexing his arm as his bicep surged up, forming a new mountain range— Flexenstein's eyes brightened manically, as he knew this was only the beginning. The creature would go on to prove everyone who had doubted him wrong, and Flexenstein now saw every door open to him; the laws of science and nature would bend to him, or, the creature would break them under his insurmountable strength. "You, glorious one, are finally perfect."