Chris smiled. He decided to keep going. Soon, he'd be the sexiest guy around. Women would be flocking to him, wanting to be his girlfriend. Maybe he could even have more than one. If he was that sexy, who could blame him for having more than one girlfriend?
He turned the canister towards himself again and sprayed.
Just like the two previous times, he immediately coughed and then began to change. His shirt momentarily ripped, because of his arms and chest suddenly buffing up, but then he watched in amazement when his shirt miraculously mended itself. Not only did it look brand-new (and improved his sexy look), but it also fit his body better, like it was his size ... well, his new size.
He flexed his arms, seeing his muscles ripple from beneath the fabric of the shirt. Man, this was great. He was probably the strongest guy in the office. Even stronger than Harry Robinson, the guy from a few cubicles down who used to play football in high school.
Chris picked up the mirror again and saw that his face now looked chiseled. And his hair looked flawless and almost godly. He almost expected himself to glow like a deity. He shook his head and laughed.
"Something funny, Miller?" he heard a familiar voice ask. Chris turned and saw Greg Stevenson, the assistant manager of the office. Suddenly, Chris didn't feel all that threatened by the guy. With his new-found strength (both physical strength and strength of confidence), he could easily take him on.
"Yeah, something's funny," Chris said, standing up and facing Greg. "What's funny is that even if you fire me for laziness, I have enough strength to make sure you wish you never even met me, let alone fire me," he said, with a grin, as he punched his right fist into the palm of his left hand.
