Arm Wrestling - Contributed by ThatOneDrumGuy

Nike walked out of the apartment and stopped for a moment outside of the front door.  She looked left and right slowly and methodically taking in the sheer amount of pure undying competitive spirit inside of the apartment complex.

Feeling a strong pull from down the hall to her right.  Turning her body, Nike proceeded down the hall.

A smile formed across the corners Nike’s lips as she proceeded passed the multitude of closed apartment doors, the spirit of competition undoubtedly strong throughout the premises, “Ares is going to get what’s coming to him,” Nike thought, “the misogynistic prick!”

Nike proceeded through a gray steel door into what appeared to be a locker room of sorts at the end of the hall.  She watched as a fairly short, muscular woman, standing about 5’2”, in a vibrant green two-piece bikini-swimsuit walked passed her, Nike could feel an intense spirit of competition radiating from her petite body.  The woman was soaking wet, her Auburn just longer-than shoulder-length hair hanging down in her face.  Nike assumed she was near the pool.  She turned the combination lock of a locker at the far end of the locker room, opened up the green locker, and pulled out a white striped beach towel.

Just then, another taller woman, wearing a black bikini top with a white bottom, with wet shoulder-length golden-blonde hair walked into the locker room and up to the first woman.  The second woman opened a locker next to the first and pulled out a sky-blue towel.  Nike watched as they exchanged words while drying themselves.

“Bonnie,” the taller woman started as she sat down on a wooden bench situated in the center of the locker hall, “are you sure you want to arm-wrestle Mitchell?”

“I know it’s a big challenge,” Bonnie said as she wrapped the towel around her shoulders and flexed her 14” biceps, “but I know I can do it Sherri.”

“I know your arms are big and all,” Sherri paused, “but Mitchell is huge.  There’s a reason he put $50 on the table for this, because, no offense, he knows he will win.”

“Thanks a bunch,” Bonnie sarcastically shot back.  Nike could feel that she was getting fired up, there was no question in her mind that she would get involved in this bout.

“You know I don’t like to sugarcoat the truth,” Sherri said back.

“Okay, I get it,” Bonnie said, “you’re cheering for Mitchell.  I’ll see you out there!”

Bonnie stuffed her towel back into the locker and slammed it shut.  Nike followed Bonnie unseen as she stormed out of the locker room and found herself outside next to the poolside.  A tall, very muscular man was standing next to a round, mesh table with an umbrella hole in the center.  He had a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“Did you bring my money,” Mitchell shouted across the pool yard to Bonnie.

“You act as if you’ll win it,” Bonnie shot back confidently.

Mitchell then flexed his arms, revealing the largest biceps Nike had seen from a mortal man in a very long time, 24” to be exact.  A smile reformed on Nike’s face as she let out a chuckle knowing she was about to have a field day.

A crowd began to form around the table as Bonnie made her way across the weathered, painted cement poolside to the table where Mitchell was standing.  She was feeling extremely confident.  Mitchell may have a whole 15” of height advantage over her standing at 6’5” but she was not intimidated as she walked up to him to talk face-to-face.

Mitchell continued to flex his 24” biceps as his bulky friend turned and slammed $50 onto the table.  Bonnie turned her focus back to Mitchell.  Both flexed for the crowd of onlookers showing off their incredible physique and strength.  

“It’s not too late to back down,” Mitchell said cockily down to Bonnie.

“Hey,” Bonnie started, “a bet is a bet.  I’m not backing down!”

“Let’s get started then shall we,” Mitchell said down with a smug grin on his face.

“You’re on,” Bonnie cheered.

Nike knew it was time to begin her work.  Mitchell turned his back to Bonnie as he walked around the table to sit down.  He had never met a woman that could take him on in terms of brawn, until Bonnie came along.

Mitchell sat down across from Bonnie at the table.  Bonnie was a pretty massive girl, standing at 5’9” with 18” biceps, she posed a real threat to his undefeated streak.

The two locked hands over the umbrella hole in the center of the table.  Bonnie chuckled quietly as her entire right hand encompassed Mitchell’s.  He was really cocky considering the fact that she was 6’6”, an inch taller than him, and had 24” biceps to compliment.

The two gladiators began the battle of the ages with a flex of each arm.  Mitchell flexed with all of his might and began to move Bonnie’s arm toward the table.  Bonnie flexed very lightly to combat Mitchell.

She could tell he was fighting very hard to overtake her.  He was struggling to move her 32” arm.  Bonnie began to tap the fingers of her left hand nonchalantly on the table.

“Are you going to start anytime soon Mitchell,” Bonnie asked condescendingly.

Mitchell let out a loud groan as he pushed on Bonnie’s 44” bicep.  The veins bulged from under his skin.  His heart throbbed.  Bonnie was sapping his strength and he began to falter.

Bonnie let out a hearty laugh, “oh, is little Mitch getting tired,” Bonnie cooed.

She flexed effortlessly and slammed the back of Mitchell’s hand from a stalemate position in the center of the table, down to the hard mesh surface.  Bonnie’s 8’2” frame shot up from the table, arms held high in triumph.

“The champ has been beaten,” Bonnie shouted out.

Nike turned her back feeling confident.  However, she was still not done sending her message to Ares.