Pat's Little Adventure In The Big City by Paul Schilling halfahubinc@aol.com A family feud and stolen money It was the dog days of summer, just before the Great War. Perspiration was dripping off everybody. People weren't doing a damn thing but praying for rain and watching with hope as the western sky grew dark and crackled with electricity. The growing storm clouds weren't the only thing crackling with electricity, for in Clark's palatial midtown penthouse office suite, Clark's bronze eyes crackled as he read the Herald and the Post. "Miss Mendelson, could you please come in here?" "Ninnies!" he said under his breath just as the door to the office swung open. "Yes, sir." The voice belonged to Lois Jane Mendelson, Clark's buxom secretary. "Janie, has my cousin shown her face in the building yet?" Just then the phone rang. "Hello, Doc's office... Oh, hiya, Jimmie... JAMES J... I AM A PROFESSIONAL. Besides, I'm... you know where with you know who..." Upon hearing that, Clark raised an eyebrow and motioned for the phone. "Jim? Doc," Clark said in a passively cool voice. "Has my cousin Pat shown up yet?" "Uhhh... yeah... I mean, YES, SIR!" Jim answered nervously. "She's on her way up and, boy, is she hot!" "Hot, huh? Well, I'll cool her off. Thanks, Jim." He handed the phone back to his secretary. "Yeah, Jimmie, t'anks for nuttin'," Lois answered back in her Brooklyn accent. "Jeez, wha a hack," Lois slams Clark's phone down, to which Clark raises a second eyebrow. "Oops, sorry sir, it's just..." she pauses. Clark interestingly waits for an answer. "It's just that..." "It's just that... what?" came the question from a panel in the wall that had just slid open. There, leaning in the turbo-lifts door, was Pat, a mirror image of her cousin in female form. Lois stood there breathless as she admired the smooth musculature of Pat's female physique. With no idea of what Pat's reaction would be, Lois blurted out, "I was just going... yeah, that's it... going back to the outer office, to do... do some filing... yeah, that's where I'm going to do." "Hold up, Janie. Aren't the Dodgers at home tonight and aren't you a fan?" "Yes, sir," Lois peeps. "Here you go... make up with Jim." Clark hands two box-seat season tickets to his secretary. "Now, go, before I change my mind." The secretary smiled, grabbing the tickets. "Thank you, sir." With that, she left the office. "She's one of the better ones," Clark grinned. "You know it's supposed to rain tonight," Pat said as she adjusted her tight blouse. "Besides, weren't those OUR box seats?" Clark stood up and walked around to sit on the front of the desk. "We've got season tickets. Now, changing the subject ever so slightly," Clark smiled, "what has my cousin in an uproar?" "Oh, I don't know," she paused and rolled her sleeves mid-forearm. "I get this call on the auto-phone from Miss Ten-Pounds-of-Stuffing-in-a-Five-Pound-Bag out there saying 'stay out the police's way' on the Cox Pharmaceuticals heist." "If I remember right, she WAS one of your star body-building girls." "That doesn't matter right now!" Clark could tell his bronze skinned cousin was gettingmore angry. "Clark! You can't do this to me!" she yelled at her cousin in exasperation. "I own half of that company," "I know, Pat... awfully warm in here, don't you think?" Clark loosened his tie, took off his coat, and opened the seaside window. "There, that's better." Frustrated, she grabbed her muscular cousin and swung him around. "Yes, it is!" she angrily agreed. "Why don't you get one of your Famous Five to FIX IT!" Clark, astounded by the tone of his cousin's voice, broke character and let loose. "STOPYOUR YELLING OR I'LL..." "OR YOU'LL WHAT?" Pat yelled back, and she began to pump her fist. Her forearm muscle pumped up and could be seen through her thin bronzed skin, growing to send a blow that might even knock Clark for a loop if he were to be caught off guard. But cooler heads prevailed. "I'll... get maintenance on it right away," Clark said as he sat back down. "But I told the Police that they have 72 hours to find the stolen payroll, then we take over." "Come on," Pat said as she rolled her blouse sleeve and put her elbow on the table. "Oh, Pat," Clark said laughingly in disbelief, "you want to armwrestle me?" "That's right," Pat said with determination, "I'm just as strong or stronger." "The only thing you're stronger at right now is ego," Clark laughed, "but I'll amuse your fancy. What will we "wrassle" for?" "I win, we get involved in the robbery case, and if you win..." "...we wait the 72 hours?" Clark finished her statement. "Yes... I'll... agree to that." She answered somewhat angrily. Clark got on the intercom. "Lois?" "Yes, sir?" came a voice over the PA. "I'll be in a 'meeting' for about a half hour with my cousin and we wish not to be disturbed." "Yes, sir." Clark rolled up his sleeve. His muscles danced. Pat's hand, now dwarfed by her cousin's, counted, and at the count of three, she proceeded, with all her strength, to try and take her cousin. Muscles began to bulge and strain as the two titans tangled. Seams ripped and buttons pulled taunt. No words were spoken, only determined but friendly grins were shown. Then came that fateful knock on the office door. "Come in," Clark grunted. "Go away," Pat bellowed as she slowly, with all her might, inched her way to an almost victory. The heavy door swung open and in walked two of Clark's assistants: Brigadier General Theodore Marley Brooks and Major John 'Renny' Renwick. "Oh, for the love of..." General Brooks, commonly known as 'Ham,' spoke up, "...haven't you two any better things to do then to show off your brutish strength to each other?" "Not now, Shyster, I've almost got him beat," Pat grunted. "Not quite, cousin," Clark said. "You shifted your balance when the door opened, and..." Within two seconds, Clark brought his arm crashing down (ever so gently) on top of his cousin's. "There!" "Hey! No fair!" Pat yelled. "Now, I believe it was 72 hours," Clark said, smiling. "Yeah," Pat replied, massaging her biceps, "I'll give them that." She then turned to Ham and Renny. "Thanks, fellas, I really needed that... now, what was so all fired important that you needed to disturb us?" Clark was besides himself when his cousin took control. "Doc." It was Renny who spoke this time. "Ham and I have to go to Lakehurst to pick up the governor for the auto-gyro. We were wondering if you needed anything along the way?" Clark sat solemn for a minute, then shook his head no. "That's it?" Pat said. "That's why you disturbed us?" "Hardly an interuption, my dear Patricia." "Hardly? Hardly!?" Pat shook her head and was ready to lunge at the two. That's when..."Patricia." The voice sounded as if her dead uncle returned from the grave to scold her; it was Clark. "A deal IS a deal. Now..." then Doc turned to his two comrades, "go ahead, and on the way, drop Pat here off at one of her spas." The two men nodded. "You need some relaxation, Pat, so go." "I'm fine..." but before she got another word out, the two men whisked her off . "Do you MIND!" she said as she tore her arms out from the gentlemenly hands. "I'm a big girl now." "Where to?" Renny says. Pat got an idea and a devilish grin on her face. "You boys know where Cox Pharmaceuticals is? "Yeah?" Ham said questioningly. "Drop me off at my spa a few blocks up... that's all." The two friends looked at each other then said, "Okay," and dropped her off. Pat walked up the steps and was met by two marble statues of well sculpted female physiques and walked into the foyer of a massive gymnasium where all could come to work themselves into a better body, as long as they were women. Smiling, she walked up to the receptionist, herself a former fitness student. "Afternoon, Miss Sav..." Pat stopped her mid-word. "'Pat,' please," she said, smiling. "If my cousin Clark should call, tell him..." a pause, "...tell him I'm working out my frustration and wish to be left alone for the rest of the afternoon and will see him later." "Anything you say... Pat." Pat smiled and walked into her office. A few minutes later, alone in her office, she stripped down and walked over to a weight machine specially designed for her by Clark. "Tell ME, ummph, I can't get involved..." she began to talk to herself as she went through a rigorous routine that would put even the toughest Marine to shame. "Tell me, '72 hours and if the Police can't find the crooks, we'll take over'." Lifting the massive weights became difficult as Pat, pushing muscle against muscle, let her growing form feed off the adrenaline rush. She put the bar down and sat up, her large feminine muscles pushed against her perspirated golden skin. She got up and walked over to a full length metal bar sitting on the floor in front of a three-way mirror, grabbed it, brought it upright at arms length, and began to talk to her reflection in the mirror. "The cops in this Flatbush borough couldn't fight their way out of a wet papersack, much less find a couple of thugs." The more Pat thought about it, the more she began to bend the bar with her unnatural strength. A second adrenaline surge caused her to bend the heavy iron bar even more than before, until it was tied in to a pretzel. She angrily threw it to the floor, then went into a series of high poses that showed off every bit of every muscle group. She finally went into a double biceps pose and said, "If these Golden skin muscles can't do it, then no one can." Still feeling the adrenaline rush, she proudly walked to her toilet and quickly showered, then dressed. After tying her bootlaces, she walked to the barred window behind her desk and stepped up on the windowsill. Looking at the bars, she grabbed the two middle ones and bent them apart. Her blouse pulled tight over her pectorals, shoulders, and her upper arms. She smiled and threw open the windows. "Bars do not a prison make," she giggled to herself, and stepped onto the ledge, closing the window behind her. She jumped the five feet to the pavement below and headed down the alleyway. Coming to the scene of the crime, she encountered Detectives Flynn and Flannigan, her biggest fans, and jogged up to them. "Hi, boys," she said in a teasingly sexy voice, "find anything?" Flynn turned around and saw the bronze skinned amazon trotting up to them. "Ahhh, Flannigan, looky who we have here," Flynn said, nudging his partner in a heavy east coast Irish brogue. "Sure n' nouw, Miss Pat," Flannigan said in the same type of dialect, "the good Doctor assured uos in the department that we'd have 72 hours to fig're this hyere croime out." "And a fine job you're doing, too," Pat said sarcastically. "I'm... just..." she paused, "just out for a jog." "A joug?" Flannigan repeated. "And I'm on a time schedule, so, if you boys will excuse me," Pat smiled, "I'll be on my way." "Just be careful, Miss Pat," Flynn said, "a lot of muggers an' t'ieves out there." "I'm a big girl now, Detective Flynn," and she proceeded to flex her arm for the two. Flynn and Flannigan stood in awe of what seemed to be a baseball growing beneath her sleeve. As she relaxed her arm and put it down, she said, "Thanks for the encouragement but, like I said, I can handle myself. See you," and with that, she jogged off. "Ahhh, Flynn," Flannigan said to his partner, "now there goes a nice girl." "And a pretty one, too. Oh well, let's get back to work," Flannigan said. Pat stopped about two blocks away, looked up the street to make sure she wasn't seen, and then darted into the alley to retrace what she believed would be the crooks steps. It was then she found a conspicuous looking gym bag that didn't quite fit in with the rest of the garbage in the alley. She opened it and her eyes grew large. "This... this must be the stolen payroll." Her eyes began to dart back and forth, chewing on her lower lip as she tried to find a way to alert the cops without letting them know who found it. Just then... "Okay, pretty lady, drop the bag." The voice was gravelly, but distintictively female. "Okay, boys, grab her." "Jah, boss." The two men each grabbed an arm, forcing Pat to drop the bag to the ground. The lady walked over to the captured Pat and produced a switchblade. "Do you know that, with these heightened muscles and strength, not to mention my senses, I could have killed you earlier when you came into the alley?" "Heightened?" asked the struggling Pat. "Yes," said her captor. "You see, Miss Pat... Oh, I know who you are... I always wanted to be just like you, big and strong." Pat's captor walked over to her and, with the switchblade, flicked several buttons off Pat's blouse revealing ample muscular bronze cleavage. "You see, I worked for Cox Pharmaceuticals in the vitamin division... "...And let me guess," Pat said. "You developed a concoction of vitamins and certain other ingredients of your own, which your body quickly adapted to and started to take in like a sponge. You were found out afterwords and were promptly fired, so you decided one night to use your strength to break in and take the money." "Very good," the big girl said, then proceeded to give Pat a swift punch in the belly, doubling her over. One of the thugs grabbed her by the hair, pulling her up sharply. "But now you see, you know too much, and so I'll just take my money and have the boys here rub you out." As the big woman reached over to pick up the gym bag, Pat kicked the bag with one foot and, with the other foot, kicked the large woman to the ground. The woman wiped the edge of her lip, finding... "Blood! Why, you little hussy... get rid of her, boys." "Jah, boss." Together, both men hauled Pat out of the room. When they got to the 'interrogation' room, they pulled her arms back, revealing her ample cleavage. "I think we can start with dese, foist." "Not even over my dead body," Pat hissed, and, with an almost herculean effort, began to lift both men off the ground. As she did so, her arms began to expand until muscles burst through the sleeves of her khaki blouse. She threw one into a cluster of garbage cans, and the other into a nearby dumpster. With both men close to passing out, she grabbed them before they could fully revive. "So you like my muscled cleavage, huh?... Well, fellas, you'll have time to think about them..." she paused, and then, "...in jail!" and she knocked their heads together and tied them up. "Now, for your boss." "Where are those two boobs?" the large woman said, at which point she heard footsteps. "It's about time..." "Yeah, for you and your boys to go to directly to jail!" The voice belonging to the footsteps was... "You!" the big woman said, surprised. "Looks like this calls for a woman's touch." The big woman threw off her leather jacket and went into a crab flex, causing her muscles to twitch and grow until she burst through her seams. Pat anchored herself in the dirt of the alley floor and flexed her own muscles. "Come on, freak, I don't have all day. "FREAK?!" the muscle woman shouted. "I'll show you freaky." Crouching down, her leg muscles coiled and expanded, tearing her pants to shreds. She lunged at Pat, grabbing her in an almost unbreakable bearhug. "Not only am I going to have my way with you, I'm going to break every bone in your body." "We'll see about that," Pat said as she began to flex her own upper body to break the deadly hold. Veins appeared as Pat caused her muscles to bulge with power. She took a deep breath and then broke the hold, sending them both to the ground. The female thug was the first to make her recovery and she scurried over to Pat who was laying on the ground, barely conscious. She sat almost on top of Pat's face, her legs spread wide apart holding down Pat's arms. "You know, you hoity-toities think you have it made with your well-to-do lives," the thug said as she popped the snap holding her slacks closed. As her soiled and ripped slacks opened, she got a devilish grin on her face. "You must like me sitting on your boobs, because I can feel your nipples getting hard through the material." The woman began to gyrate her muscled butt over Pat's boobs. Pat's eyes widened as the woman, with one yank, pulled her damp panties off and continued. "Oh, yeah, you know what's next. I'm going to find out how good you really are." "Not on your life," said the Woman of Bronze, and she suddenly arched her back, catching her opponent off guard. "Al... most... THERE!" Pat's mighty bronze muscles arched and explode as she quickly subdued her foe, putting her into a Boston Crab and then quickly touching pressure point around the neck area with two fingers, leaving the muscle woman paralyzed just enough to tie her up and make a phone call at the nearest booth. Pat received both glares and stares. It's not every hot muggy day that a 5' 11" blonde haired, bronze sculptured muscle goddess in tattered clothes graced the streets of the borough. "43rd precinct, O'Malley speaking," answers the desk sergeant . "O'Malley, this is a friend," Pat said, trying to remain anonymous. "Send Detectives Flynn and Flannigan." A pause... "Yes, Flynn and Flannigan..." 'Jerk,' Pat thought. "...Up the alley, about a block and a half, and they'll find the crooks all tied up for them with the stolen money from the pharmaceutical heist." She stood and answered a few more questions as raindrops began to gently grace her face. "You better hurry, O'Malley, it's beginning to rain." Pat ran down a side street in the rain to the alley behind her health spa, where she opened the window and crawled into her office. She threw off the ragged top and proudly watched her bronzed skin bunch up with sinew as she bent the iron bars back to where they originally were. After stripping her soiled clothes and showering, she put on her street clothes. She sat down at her desk and called her cousin. "Clark... Pat. ...Oh, no, nothing much." Pat propped her stocking feet up on her desk "What? ...Oh, come on, Clark, I've been here at the spa all afternoon... It IS raining, you know... Okay, see you in a bit. Ciao." Pat hung up the phone and swung her chair towards the open window and laughingly enjoyed the rain.