HOME | DD

Description
So there I was, standing next to a wall, overlooking the city, where I'm from and where I live near. I thought of all those people that go in and out of there, the ones that live there and the ones that struggle to live there. The city is a jungle. Look at the rest of the world. Not much of a difference there. It's live with hope or die with nothing to back you up in the first place. "Survival of the fittest." Call me Darwin.

The sky was blue with white floating splotches, the clouds, moving slowly and peacefully up above my head, more like most of our heads. Except pilots and people who fly aircraft. Do those clouds even know where they're going? What about the highway full of passing cars and trucks below them, moving much faster. Do they know where they're going? Do those drivers even know their destination in life? I wonder...

Oh, right... I'm Drakon, someone searching for answers. I'm just like some people out there. I'm also looking at the colorful blue sky and white puffy clouds casting shadows on the green grass. The wknd blows the leaves on the lovely trees and bushes and flowers in pots. It was another pretty day in May with all the May flowers blooming and the colors of spring and summer start showing.

I walked down a street to find some man appearing to have a cardboard sign. It said in Sharpie "Will work for some food." I felt bad for the poor guy, seeing this sign and this message of what's slowly growing out here: unemployment and people holding up signs or something. I approached the guy, and he looked at me, asking "Can I work for you for some food? Please? I need to work, man..." in that desperate and determined tone. So, being the "Good Samaritian" I am, I take him to an Arby's and we both have classic Roast Beef sandwiches. It was convenient and close to us, and it inspired a little thought in my head about what to do with this man.

Sitting at a table at the park, where we are out food, we exchanged names. He told me his name was George Greene, and I told him my name. As we were about to eat our sandwiches, I did my magic and "added more" to his sandwiches. I got him two Classic Roast Beef sandwiches. The more he ate, the more he's gonna change. For the better and forever. He was happily eating his sandwich, drinking down his large soda to wash it down when needed. I ate my sandwich not as frantic and rapid like him, mostly because I was having lunch and a show that was about to start. A rather interesting show starring the man sitting across the table, changing for the better.

He was too busy trying to wolf down his first sandwich, but my hand was under the table, glowing red and pointing toward his body. His muscles were developing and swelling larger into more impressive builds other than his average one. First was his back. His traps and shoulder blades and whatever else muscles were back there were growing and bulging out of his shirt and skin, making him taller. The taller he gets, the more room his muscles can grow and swell larger in his body.

I took some sips out of my medium Sprite as I saw his legs next in line, growing and developing into larger and stronger muscles in his body, able to keep his soon top half not so overbalanced or top-heavy. From his hamstrings down to his calves and feet, his leg muscles swelled up like balloons and ripped his jeans off, leaving half of them down to his knees. Still unaware, he kept telling me his life story and eating his food. Nodding like I really care, not, I focused to his arms. The signature start, the biceps growing bigger, wider, thicker, and stronger by the minute. Then his shoulders, forearms, and triceps, and other muscles in the arms, grew out to match.

As of now, George looked like a bodybuilder. A bodybuilder that looked like he was homeless. Well...not on my watch. I'm taking advantage of this here and now so it'll help later. His shirt was struggling not to explode if George would stretch or bend his arm inwards, because if that happens, then the shirt would be no more.
"Man, is this food good or what? I haven't felt this good in forever! Or maybe it's just me..." he said to me.

"Maybe it's the beef?" I replied to him.

He shrugged, but felt a little odd. Was he taller then me before? He is now.

Brown fur and fuzz crawled up George's legs and body, his feet bursting out of his shoes as cloven hooves. His fingers fused and formed into three brown, meatier fingers with darker brown fingernails. His hair fell off in clumps on his head, his face and head feeling odd and numb. His head cracked and shifted into a bull's muzzle and head, having sort of a long face. Like a horse, his mouth and nose with his flared nostrils were pink compared to the rest of the brown fuzz forming on his face, two long horns sprouting out of his head. He had some changed ears, a little longer and under his horns.

George noticed all these as he reached for his drink, but by then it was too late. His head was to be changing and his transformation to be finished with him as "a good pal of mine." Another way of me not honestly saying I'll mind-swipe him and make him forget about everything before. Except me, and...y'know, how to not be a complete mindless slave or something of mine.

As his head was transforming, his voice was deepening and his eyes were changing color from brown to black.

"What!? What're you doing...to-to...meeeee-m-mooooooo!!"

By then he closed his eyes and reopened them as black colored eyes, both of them looking toward me and rating locked on me. I had to say something back. He asked me a question after all.

"Just making you look and feel better. So... how do you feel and how do you feel about how you look?"

"I look as good as ever, Master Drakon," George replied to me, kinda looking at me bug-eyed and in monotone with his new deeper voice, "Thank you."

"Not gonna lie, you do look pretty good. No, you look pretty well, better than good. Much better. Say, you don't mind if you can stand up for me, do you?"

"Not at all, Master Drakon," George answered, getting up and standing to be 6"6 and looking heavily muscled, built a little more than a bodybuilder. More like the dream bodybuilder build. He still looked at me as I got up and held my medium Sprite in the plastic cup, sipping it as I circle George and examine him. Of course I forget one thing, maybe another one. I point at his rear with my free hand starting to glow red. I gesture it and flex my two fingers, middle and index, inward, looking as if I would be telling someone to come here and out toward me. Pretty soon a small tail with a little brown fuzzy spade forms and makes a tiny hole in the seat of his jeans, and his rear was bubbling and beefing up. It would be a decent male rear, more or less a bubble butt with a little muscle for the big and beefy bull-man George was now.

"You need a new name, a better one. How about...no, Big Ben's already taken. Probably overused. ... Hmm, how about Bill? Bill Bull? Yeah, forget your old last name as well."

"I am Bill. Bill Bull."

"Yup, that's it."

Obviously there was a big bulge in the front of his pants. If you really wanna know, it didn't look human anymore, but it was big and beastly. And "they" looked as big as eggplants or something, I don't know. Get creative. Use your imagination.

"Come on, Bill. Let's get you home and a shirt on as well. If you want to, of course."

He nodded and we went on. I took my soda and he left his trash at the table.

One more friend to the list, I said to myself in my head.