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CardiMuscleman

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  1. CardiMuscleman

    The Tale of the Muscular Manservant

    , rousingChapter Seventy One As the travellers slept, for Jean his dreams were filled about his master and his lover and thanks to the imagination that all great Frenchmen have, imagination that had created the stories of the Musketeers with one of the strongest men in the world, Jean's dream wondered what might happen "For shame, have you read this Jean?" As Jean finished his naked pushups for his master, he was a little disappointed to see his master reading a newspaper to which his master replied "Oh, it wasn't the pushups I wanted to see, Jean, it was the sweat dripping off you when you had finished. But that's not what I was talking about" and with that he read the article in the Times. "The Metropolitan Police have today announced that a third grave have been robbed in the last three days. The police are asking for witnesses to the crimes which have seen the bodies of the late Professor Dingle of the University of London, a prize fighter from Tower Hamlets and the most recent theft was of a young man who was killed when his horse reared up". As Phileas lowered the paper, a grim expression crossed his face and he stammered "No, it can't be, it's...it's impossible!" "What is, master?" asked Jean as he wiped himself down. "It sounds Jean" replied Phileas, "as if someone is following in Victor's footsteps!" The following morning on his way to the Reform Club, with Jean alongside him to carry a collection of papers that he would talk about that afternoon, Phileas stopped suddenly as he turned into Pall Mall and pointed at something that make Jean quake. It was a man, if you could him that, that towered over everyone. It was clear, just to look at him, that he had to be stronger than any man alive and as they looked at him, both men moaned under their breath wondering how strong this man was. They soon got their answer when he picked up a passerby by his leg, kicked a hansom cab over with his foot, and when he was challenged by a police officer simply picked up the officer and threw him into the window of a nearby shop and grabbed the jewels on display. As the thief ran off, Jean slapped his master and whispered "Is it time for the hero?" to which Phileas nodded and with that the two men went into the Reform Club where Phileas, feigning an upset stomach was helped into the toilets by Jean. Away from prying eyes, Jean and Phileas looked at each other, nodded and kissed. As their lips touched, a glow engulfed both men and when it disspipated it revealed a man as tall as Phileas but with the combined strength of both men, his muscles bulging underneath the pristine white suit and trousers. This was thanks to a potion the men had drunk in India on their trip around the world, whenever they kissed, they merged into a combination of themselves. A man with the combined intelligence of Phileas and Jean and the combined strength. Smiling to himself as he looked in the miirror, he flexed his thirty inch bicep and then dived out of the window and following the direction that the monster had run off in, encountered him and delivered the first blow, a mighty right hook that would have killed a lesser man. But the monster just stood there and responded with an uppercut that would have sent any man flying, but the Hero just stood there but he had been stunned just enough to allow the monster to escape. As the Hero recovered, he sighed and walked away from the fight scene, disappearing behind a tree and re-emerging as master and manservant. As they both bemoaned, Phileas stopped as he saw the monster run down a nearby road and Phileas had an epiphany. "What if that monster is going home?" he asked and with that both men followed it. Half an hour later, both men were hiding outside a very large house in Hackney and despite Jean's fears, Phileas decided to investigate, but no sooner had he entered the house than he was clonked on the head. When he came around, a few moments later, he came face to face with... "Professor Moriarty...I might have known it was you!" "Ah, the redoubtable Phileas Fogg, I've been waiting for you for some time. After all, think of the fame, if my creation kills the man who travelled around the world in eighty days!" and with that he whistled and the monster stomped into the room. Phileas, desperate for any means of defence, took a nearby chair and threw it at the monster, only for it to break without making any damage, save the monster start to shake and growl and with that advanced on Phileas, who taking a chance dived underneath the monster's legs and opening the window he had arrived at shouted "Jean!". As Jean ran to his master's aid, the two kissed and seconds later the Hero faced the monster. As the fight between the two increased in fury, Professor Moriarty urged the monster to unleash every ounce of strength he had but as the Hero and the monster struggled, their breathing become more and more ragged, the Hero had the advantage and lifted the monster over his head, turned to face the professor and roared "Surrender, or face death by your own creation!" however the Professor started to flee and so the Hero remarking "On your own head be it!" threw the monster and killed both men, their necks crushed by the impact. That evening, back at their home, the two men wrestling each other in front of a roaring fire, wondered what the professor had done to create such a man, to which Jean replied "I don't know, master, but I know what I can do to create such a man!" and with that rammed his fourteen inch cock into his master's mouth and as he started to moan with desire, as his master sucked him, Jean's breathing became more and more ragged and when he came he screamed at the top of his voice "YES MASTER, I WILL CUM!" “Well” replied Fix rousing Jean from his sleep, “it’s not your master, but I am glad you’ve decided to come, we’ve decided to walk across the plains of Nebraska!” and with that helped Jean to his feet where he saw his master had his arms around Aouda’s with Drummond just a short way behind continuing his journey by any means necessary.
  2. CardiMuscleman

    The Tale of the Muscular Manservant

    Chapter Seventy “So, Mr. Fogg” said Fix as he joined him waving goodbye to the detachment, “What do we do now? The horses that Calm Buffalo gave us are very good horses, but, well, five of us on two horses will be tricky!” Phileas paced the platform deep in thought. The station master had informed Drummond that thanks to the destruction of Medicine Bow bridge it would take a month for the service east – west to be resumed and Fix was quite right in his assessment about the horses. As he looked up along the track, he suddenly snapped his fingers and declared “That’s it, by Jove!” and pointed to a handcar which prompted puzzled faces all around. Asking Drummond if the station master was still around, he turned to Jean and said “How strong are you feeling this morning?” to which Jean smiled and puffed out his chest. After negotiating with the station master, in a manner that confirmed Phileas’s muscular brain as well as body, the hire of the handcar, Jean and Drummond took hold of either side of the mechanism, however Drummond didn’t know how the handcar worked and got clonked on the chin for his troubles, so Fix took over instead and between the two of them, they managed to get the handcar moving down a side track. Phileas, shifted the points, as the handcar passed him and taking Aouda’s hand thanked the station master for his hospitality by donating the horses that Calm Buffalo had given him. “I…I don’t know what to say” he replied, “except thank you…and good luck” he added as Phileas stepped onto the handcar, helped Aouda up and then winking at Jean said “Now, let’s see how far we can get to New York eh?” and with that both master and manservant began to pump. After four hours of pumping, both Jean and Phileas were down to their shirts but were making excellent progress as they were now within striking distance of the city of Omaha, one of the largest cities in Nebraska, which prompted Drummond to ask if they were going to travel all the way to New York by handcar. A question that prompted Fix to give Drummond a clip around the earhole saying “Use some common sense, man” and with that addressed Phileas asking, “Catch a train in Omaha, sir?” to which Phileas just nodded. “I wonder how fast we’re going?” grunted Jean. Suddenly a whistle filled the air and as Fix looked up he gasped. “That’s…That’s not possible! We’ve caught up with the train to New York?” “Well done, Jean!” grunted Phileas, “We’ve been going faster than the train, think you can up the ante a bit to catch up with it?” “Er, sir” replied Fix as he strained to see, “I don’t think we’ve catching up with a train, I think it’s catching up with us!” “It’s coming this way?” gasped Drummond “We have to slow down somehow!” exclaimed Fix, “if that train hits us at this speed, we’ll be killed!” For the next few moments Fix, Drummond and Aouda looked for any means of slowing down the handcar whilst Phileas and Jean kept pumping in order to ensure a controlled reduction in speed, but all came up blank. “Hey” exclaimed Fix, “is that a…yes, it is, it’s a points” “Faster, Jean” grunted Phileas, “we need to reach those points before the train does” and both men pumped harder than they had done so. As they started to gain speed, Phileas grunted his plan. “Fix, as soon as you can, I want you to run to those points and change them, then change them back as soon as we are safe!” Taking off his jacket and handing it to Drummond, he nodded and waited for the moment. “GO NOW” grunted Phileas and Fix leapt off the handcar and running faster than he had ever done, reached the points and switched them just as the handcar got to the points, then switched them back just seconds before the train reached them. As he held on to the points for dear life, he turned and screamed “BUFFERS!” But it was too late, the handcar rammed into the buffers and threw the passengers into a pile of sand but as they popped their heads out of the sand, Phileas chuckled “Anyone bring a bucket and spade? I feel in the mood for a sandcastle competition?” which prompted everyone to laugh confirming the age-old theory that only Englishmen can turn any drama into a story suitable for the dinner table. Sadly, the handcar that has conveyed them so well, was now a wreck and so sheltering in a nearby station they decided to all have a rest to recover for their exertions.
  3. CardiMuscleman

    The Tale of the Muscular Manservant

    Chapter Sixty Nine Of course, this resolution was completely unbeknownst to the rescue party who had slowed down to a canter. “Be careful, guys” warned the Captain, “this is just the right spot for an ambush. Everyone be on guard!” As the party made its way through the canyon, Phileas scanned every nook and cranny and asked the Captain how dangerous the Indians were. “They would sooner scalp you than ask you the time of day” he replied, which caused Phileas to gulp. Suddenly, he spotted something and tapping the Captain on the shoulder, pointed up to the top of the canyon. “Smoke signals” whispered the Captain, “we need to be extra careful now, we still have the element of surprise though!” No sooner had he said that than Phileas shuddered. He couldn’t explain it but felt as if he wasn’t alone but before he could explain his feeling to the Captain, the Captain suddenly woahed his horse and said “Me and my big mouth, sir!” and pointed to the top of the canyon which was now populated by hundreds and hundreds of Indians. As he ordered the men into a defensive corral, each of the men pulled out their rifles and were soon aiming them up the valley. Phileas peering over the Captain’s shoulder could just make something out in the distance. As he squinted to try and make it out, a broad smile started to cross his face. “Captain” he whispered, “follow my lead!” and with that he dismounted, placed his hands in the air and walked away from the corral. “Mr. Fogg” said the Captain, “are you mad?” Phileas ignored him and carried on walking away from the corral. As the Captain stared into the distance, he started to smile and followed Phileas’s lead and as he did he said “Men, lower your weapons!”, an order instantly obeyed much to the shock of Mr. Fix who cowered behind Lt. Stone. “MONSIEUR” shouted Jean at the top of his voice “JEAN!” declared Phileas and lowering his hands, ran to meet his manservant who jumped down from the horse he had been given. As the two lovers met, Phileas picked Jean off the ground and span him around. “You chief of Jean?” asked the Indian who had released them. Phileas nodded and lowered Jean to the ground. The Indian dismounted and as he did, the captain gasped. “Calm Buffalo” he said in a reverential whisper, “the most dangerous Indian chief in the whole of Nebraska” “Jean tells me that you must travel fast!” “Very fast indeed” Phileas replied, “I must reach New York by the end of the week!” “Then take horses!” the chief replied, “There no faster travel!” “Thank you, Calm Buffalo” said Phileas, and acting on his knowledge raised his hand in greeting. “We attack iron horse through malice, we apologise” the chief added approaching the captain and then kneeled on one leg adding “our tribe will leave this valley and leave the iron horses in peace!” “We accept your surrender” said the Captain but was interrupted by, “They are not surrendering, captain, they wish to live alongside you!” “Fast Man speaks the truth” Calm Buffalo said “We offer proof of our friendship” and with that he stood up and clapped his hands. Strong Bear dismounted his horse and approached the Captain who seemed to develop an inability to breath properly. As Strong Bear took a deep breath, Jean whispered to Phileas "Close your eyes, my love, lest you are affected as well" and as his master did so, Strong Bear puffed out his chest, bent his arms and gritted his teeth. As Jean watched and Phileas listened, they both chuckled when they saw the Captain start to pant and his lover moan "Oh, god, he's massive" and then both groan. Opening his eyes, Phileas chuckled to himself as he saw the Captain squeeze his legs together, but it was too late and a damp patch appeared on his trousers with the inspector asking his rider "Sir, are you feeling all right?" “We wish you travel faster than the wind, Fast Man!” said Calm Buffalo holding out his hand to Phileas “Thank you, Calm Buffalo” came the meek reply as the two men shook hands and as they did, the gathered Indians all cheered and hollered their approval. As Phileas, the Captain, Jean and Strong Bear all mounted the horses of the Calvary section, Calm Buffalo mounted his own horse and with a call of “HOKA HEY!” headed back the way they had come and as they disappeared in a cloud of dust, the sun started to rise in the east. As it did the Captain, having to physically avoid looking at Strong Bear, declared “Mr. Fogg, the train leaves in an hour!” and thankful to think of something else other than the mass of muscle riding with Jean and Phileas, jumped onto Climax which reared up and leading the detachment galloped back to the station with every ounce of stamina they could muster. *** “I’m sorry, Mr. Fogg” said Drummond, his head lowered, “but the train left ten minutes ago!” As he explained his impassioned pleas for Mr. Bullman to wait, and how the president had ignored him explaining his concern for the passengers on board, Phileas didn’t show any emotion at the news, bar a slight smile when Drummond added, “He did say one thing though, sir, he wished you all the best and called you the bravest man he had ever met!” “A sentiment I completely agree with” said the Captain, as he shook Phileas’s hand and even offered him an honorary position as Lieutenant, but Phileas just smiled and said “Thank you, Captain, but I can think of a much better person to award that to” and pointed to Strong Bear who was showing off his muscles to the gathered men adding, “Think about it, Captain, the first Indian to be made a member of the US Cavalry, making it a force that protects both Americans and the native Indians. What would President Grant make of that eh?” As the Captain’s eyes opened wide in realisation, Phileas added, almost in a whisper, “besides, it means that you could have two Lieutenants to love, no?” and with that both men burst out laughing, much to the confusion of Drummond who said “I don’t get the joke, sorry!” “Oh, Mr. Fogg” chuckled the Captain, “I’ll be sorry to see you go!” “Ah, thank you for reminding me” said Phileas and went into the shelter to take the bag that Drummond had been looking after, pausing only to reassure Aouda that everything would be fine and they would arrive back in London in time. As he opened the bag, he started to hand over the reward but was stopped after a thousand dollars by the Captain saying “Sir, I cannot accept any more. You showed us the way forward and that lesson alone is worth more money than the Treasury has, therefore I assure you that this money will help fund the Phileas Fogg garrison hut at the fort!” and with that he bowed, before mounting his horse and after blowing his bugle declared “All hail, Phileas Fogg, honorary member of the US Cavalry” before geeing his horse and leading the detachment back to Fort Kearney.
  4. CardiMuscleman

    The Tale of the Muscular Manservant

    Chapter Sixty Eight As his master, Fix and the rest of the Calvary followed the route that Jean had taken, Jean himself was looking down at his feet in despair. He’d been captured by the people who had attacked the train and was now bound inside one of their teepees almost certain to be scalped at the sunrise. It was all he could think of and as one of the Indians entered, wearing a head dress that Jean knew meant he was in the presence of a chieftain and as his lover had told him before they entered the United States, native American chiefs respected people who were like them. So Jean, realising that he could be killed at a moment's notice, took a deep breath, gritted his teeth and pulled with every ounce of his strength to try and break the bonds. As the Indian watched this display of strength, he said one word that stopped Jean in his tracks. “Friend?” This single word took Jean by surprise and so nodding in desperation he hoped that his life was going to be spared, however when the chieftain pulled out a knife that was as long as his hard cock, he gulped and started to struggle again. However, the knife was used to cut Jean's bonds and as the chieftain walked away and left the tepee, Jean stood with a puzzled expression on his face. If only his master was here, he’d know what was happening. A few moments later he returned holding a very long tube, which he placed in his mouth in a manner that resembled smoking a cigar, sucking it and then blowing out two smoke circles. He then handed the tube to Jean who decided it would be a good idea to copy him and so followed suit. He did and as he handed the tube back, the Indian, now sitting in front of him with his arms and legs crossed spoke. “I will ask questions” he said, in a form of English that Jean could understand, “You answer with the truth!” Jean nodded at the direct instruction “I am a man of peace” he continued, “Why you attack with iron horse?” Jean looked at the Indian and scratched his head. What did he mean by an iron horse? Thinking hard, he tried to think of what might resemble an iron horse to these people. Suddenly, his eyes opened as he knew what the Indian was talking about. An iron horse was a train. The carriages were the wagons and the engine was what pulled it. “A warrior from a neighbouring tribe tell us you attack with iron horse; we attack you first!” concluded the Indian. Jean shook his head violently saying “What you call an iron horse, we call a railway train. It is a means of travelling from one place to another. I assure you that these trains don’t attack you, they have no reason to!” The Indian closed his eyes and started to mumble for a moment, then opened them and said “Ancestors of tribe believe you, you tell truth!” and with that he clapped his hands and as he did, a monster entered the teepee. A monster that made Jean go instantly hard. He had to be at least six-foot-tall, maybe even taller and looked as if he was heavier than some of the rocks Jean had seen in the desert. His chest, that seemed to just bulge whenever he breathed, had to be sixty inches, his waist thirty inches and his stomach, uncovered by any clothes as was the Indian who had summoned him, looked as if he had swallowed ten stones. As he stood there, Jean could feel himself wanting to send this monster of a man to heaven and even now was imagining him, thrusting his cock deep inside him. “Strong Bear” announced the Indian, “bring warrior to me who told us of attack. We shall ask him!” Strong Bear bowed and as he turned around to leave, Jean gasped. The loincloth covering his groin didn’t have a back and displayed the two most muscular glutes Jean had ever seen. This was too much and he came, moaning as he did so. The Indian noted this and said “Strong Bear, strongest brave ever to live, make many brave men moan like you!” to which Jean just nodded. A few moments later Strong Bear returned, holding a ribbon with a feather in it. As he handed it to the Indian, he said “White Man speak truth, Warrior ran away when I called him” As the chieftain examined the ribbon, he lowered his head in shame. “We should not have listened to false warrior” he said, “As chief of tribe, I beg forgiveness. Do you wish to return to iron horse?” Jean nodded with every fibre of his being. “Then tribe will act as guide” and with that the Indian stood up adding “You wish to ride with Strong Bear?” Jean just moaned as Strong Bear picked him up and said “White Man strong!” “But you are the stronger” moaned Jean as he came again.
  5. CardiMuscleman

    The Tale of the Muscular Manservant

    Chapter Sixty Seven “What’s the matter, Mr. Bullman?” asked the station master as the passengers and cavalrymen thanked each other for their sterling defence of the train “Did a locomotive go past here?” the president asked “She sure did” came the reply, “shot right through like lighting attached to a greased hog!” “That’s crazy talk” replied the president, “was there anyone in the engine?” “I didn’t see anyone” said the station master, “not even the engine crew! It was going so fast; I am sure that if I blinked I would have missed it!” “That means only one thing” mused Mr. Bullman, “we’ve a runaway engine on our hands, and do you know what that means?” he bellowed to the poor station master “There’s something you should know, sir” said the station master, “If there is no one stoking that engine, it will end up right back where it started!” “And how, pray tell, does that make any sense?” bellowed Mr. Bullman “You see that hill over there?” asked the station master, pointing into the distance, “without any fuel that engine won’t make it up there and then will simply roll back to where it came from, i.e. sir, here!” “So I haven’t lost an engine after all?” Mr. Bullman asked, a smile returning to his face. “That’s right, sir, give it time and it will come back here, in one piece!” As Mr. Bullman waited patiently for the engine to come back, the Calvary captain approached Phileas again who was now sitting on a bench on the platform holding Jean’s hat forlornly. As the Captain stood to attention, he noticed Phileas's expression and asked a question that rather surprised Phileas. "Permission to console you, sir?" Phileas gave permission and as the captain said down he sighed as he looked at Jean's hat “Sir” the captain replied, “my name is Captain Dennis Mason, commanding officer of Fort Kearney. I have heard the report of what happened on the train today from Colonel Proctor, late of the Union forces in Pennsylvania, and wanted to commend you for your bravery. It’s very few people who lead an uprising against an Indian attack, especially a Limey!” “Thank you, sir” said Phileas, “but I would do anything to rescue my manservant!” The Captain's next question however was one that Phileas had never expected to hear in a million years. "As I would expect anyone to say" said the Captain almost in a whisper "especially if they were lovers, yes?" Phileas’s eyes, red from crying, opened wide and as he looked up and down the station he nodded slowly. As he did the Captain placed an arm over his shoulder and said “I know what you are going through, sir” and pointed to one of the men at the far end of that station. “That’s Lt. Stone” he said, “three years ago he was kidnapped by the Sioux when he was a private. I led a party to rescue him sir and when I got to the camp, I found him, standing knee deep in unconscious Indians. He explained that he had “shown them the American way of living” and as we rode back admitted to me that he was inverted. Since that day, we have been lovers and I am sure, sir, that I would go and rescue him if I were in the same situation as you, sir!” “Then” Phileas asked, “may I have your permission to rescue my lover, sir?” “Sir, you shall have the full assistance of the US Cavalry” smiled the captain and with that jumped to his feet, and blew his bugle that led all the men to come rushing to him and standing to attention with a mighty “Sir, yes, SIR!” “Men” said the Captain, walking up and down the platform, “this man is the man who led the defence of this train. However, he is not the only one, his manservant prevented the engine from being stolen, but is nowhere to be seen. I am looking for ten brave men…” but before the Captain had even finished, the entire detachment stepped forward as one and shouted “Sir, yes, sir!” prompting the Captain to turn and say “Sir, you have your rescue party!” Just then, Mr. Bullman gave a whoop as the engine appeared into view. As it backed into the rest of the train, the station master reapplied the coupling and Mr. Bullman leapt into the engine and found the driver and stoker still unconscious. As they were gently roused into the land of the living, they were unable to shed any light on the missing manservant and as Mr. Bullman explained what he had found, Phileas looked towards the horizon where the sun was starting to set and with that stood up and said “Captain, I accept your kind offer” and with that approached the rest of his party to explain what was going to happen. Aouda covered her face with her hands and Drummond led her into the shelter to try and comfort her. As he did, Phileas turned to Fix and said “Sir, I realise that this may seem like an imposition, but…” “You want me to come and help you find your manservant?” asked Fix. Fogg nodded and Fix replied in kind and with that they approached the captain who pinned a small badge onto their jackets announcing that, for the duration, they were members of the US cavalry and would be awarded all the rights that the military unit offered. As they mounted the horses, Phileas with Captain Mason and Fix with Lt. Stone, Mr. Bullman gave them a stern warning. “This engine will be ready to leave in six hours, Mr. Fogg, and I for one do not want to wait a minute longer than is needed. If you’re here by the time we are ready to go, then come on board, if not!” Phileas nodded his understanding and with that addressed the cavalrymen saying “My friends, I will divide five thousand dollars among you, if we save the prisoner!” and with that Captain Mason blew his bugle and the company rode off into the desert. “There goes one of the bravest men I have ever met” said Mr. Bullman to himself *** “Captain, over there, to the left!” As the captain brought his horse to a stop, Phileas jumped down and examined the object on the ground. “This is one of Jean’s shoes!” he announced, and as he peered into the distance, he saw another one. “Then we are on the right track” said the Captain and gestured Phileas to get back on. As he mounted the Captain’s horse he said “Better on hold tight, sir, we can go at quite the lick” and with that he geed his horse as they followed the only route that Jean could have taken. Phileas wrapped his arms around the Captain’s torso and as he did he gasped. “What’s the matter?” chuckled the Captain, “never felt how powerful a cavalry officer is before?” “But, Captain…” stammered Phileas “Please, call me Dennis” replied the Captain “But, Dennis” continued Phileas, “I can count, six, no, eight distinct muscles in your stomach. That’s impossible!” “There’s more to me than that” he smiled and as they continued to ride, the Captain reeled off a set of numbers that made Phileas harder than he had ever been before. “We are the best of the best, Mr. Fogg. To even be considered for the US Calvary, you must meet certain requirements, namely be no shorter than five feet, seven inches. I am pleased to say that I am a full six foot, one inch tall and my lover is just one inch shorter. If that requirement is met, then you must weigh no less than a hundred and forty-one pounds. In case you haven’t guessed already, I weigh two hundred pounds and my lover two hundred and five pounds” “Oh, Dennis” moaned Phileas, as he wrapped his hands firmly around the Captain’s torso. “There’s more” the captain chuckled, “Although you cannot be any older than twenty-five when you join, you can go on as long as you want to. Heck, I’m sixty next week and my lover will be the same age a month after that” “Many happy returns” said Phileas as he moved his hands up to the Captain’s chest and gasped “Ah, that’s the next requirement” moaned the Captain as Phileas squeezed the Captain’s chest, “Your chest cannot be any smaller than thirty-four and a half inches in circumference. That’s a fifty-inch chest you are squeezing now, and my lover? Well, he’s got a bit of catching up to do, his is only forty-seven inches, but I dare say a few more days of me lying on his arms and him pressing me into the air should do the trick. Coupled with the fact that we are both a full four inches below regulation with our waists, we are both twenty-seven and a half inches, we more than beat the maximum body fat measurements” “You don’t have any!” panted Phileas “Not quite” replied the Captain, “Around four percent of my body is fat, meaning that I have a lean bodyweight of a hundred and ninety-three pounds and my lover has a lean bodyweight of a hundred and ninety-eight pounds, and as the minimum is a hundred and seventeen pounds, well, you can see why we are held in such respect by our peers!” “And…and…and” panted Phileas, unable to withstand it anymore, “MINE!” he roared as he came and as he did the Captain chuckled, “You’re not the first person I have had on this horse who has been unable to withstand me. Why do you think I call him, Climax” and with that he cracked the reins and yelled “Onwards, Climax!” The data for the physical requirements of a US Cavalry solider were sourced online and when I read the data found it was published in the early 20th century, sadly however I cannot remember where I found it.
  6. CardiMuscleman

    The Tale of the Muscular Manservant

    Chapter Sixty Six As the battle continued, Phileas, who was taking command like a great military leader, worried that the attackers may try and take the train from the rear and so Jean volunteered to stop them. As he arrived at the back of the train, he fired at all the attackers he could find and demonstrated his skills by leaping out of the way of some of the returned fire and even on one occasion had to breathe in as three arrows embedded themselves just inches from him. Inside the train, Phileas, the Colonel, Mr. Bullman and the policemen were leading the defence with Aouda offering a comforting cuddle to some of the younger passengers who were scared beyond belief but the defenders were succeeding as a few moments later the Indian attackers started to withdraw, leading to Phileas to declare victory. However, that was not true, as under the cover of the attack, the one man determined that Phileas would not survive this attack made his move. Timothy, disguised as an Indian brave, and the orchestrator of the attack, geed his horse out of the main attack group and made his way to the engine. Leaping on board, he knocked the engineman and the driver unconscious with his tomahawk and then using what he had learned about trains back in England, opened the regulator as wide as it was possible accelerating the train to unheard of speeds. Phileas, who had reached the end of the train to congratulate his manservant, instantly realised that the attack had not been repulsed and resolved that the locomotive had to be disconnected from the rest of the train. As Jean volunteered for the mission, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to his master who said “Be careful my lover, if anything happened to you, I would never forgive myself!” “Don’t worry about me, monsieur” smiled Jean as he clambered onto the roof of the carriage and demonstrating his circus skills yet again, made his way to the front of the train, crawling on the roofs of the carriages. Climbing down, he found the mechanism to decouple the locomotive. He tried to activate it, but found that it worked the opposite way to the way he was facing, so climbed back onto the roof of the carriage and jumped into the wagon behind the engine carrying the wood for the fire. Now, he was able to detach it and as he smiled as the carriages started to leave, he suddenly realised that he had made a critical mistake. He was on the wrong side of the disconnected engine but resolved that if he managed to stop the engine, then the carriages would catch up and they would all be reunited. As he stood up he chuckled “Hah, and they say that my master is the clever one!” “And that would make you the dimwit then!” said a voice Slowly turning around Jean gasped as there in front of him was an Indian armed with a tomahawk. As the Indian advanced, Jean retreated. His master had told him about the tomahawk on the Grant and he knew it could easily kill him. Suddenly, he realised that he was about to run out of room when the Indian launched at him and acting on nothing more than instinct, Jean jumped out of the way. As the Indian tried to attack again, Jean leapt at him and wrestled him to the ground. As he tried to get the Indian to drop his tomahawk, the Indian pushed against him. After several moments, that caused both men to start panting, Jean managed to remove the tomahawk and wrapped his hands around the Indian’s neck. The Indian suddenly went faint, and as Jean breathed heavily, he stood up and declared “I am the victor” but the Indian had played a trick on Jean and went to punch him, Jean reacted at the same time and the two men made contact with so much force that they knocked themselves both unconscious at the same time and fell off the wagon and landed heavily, rolling down opposite sides of the embankment before coming to a stop at the bottom of the bank. *** Whilst all this was going on, the Indians, seeing that the carriage had become separated returned to the attack but this time the passengers were ready and started firing back before a single arrow had been fired. As the carriage started to slow down, Mr. Bullman realised where they were headed. Fort Kearney, the headquarters of the American Cavalry. As if answering some unheard call, there followed a sound that prompted the Colonel to yell “The Good Ole US Cavalry” and waving his hat in the air, he popped his head out of a window and shouted “Go get ‘em boys!” The soldiers of the fort, attracted by the shots, hurried up; the Sioux had not expected them, and decamped in a body before the train entirely stopped. But when the passengers counted each other on the station platform one was noticeable by his absence. “Oh, no” gasped Phileas, as the Cavalry captain presented him with his manservant’s hat, “Jean!”
  7. CardiMuscleman

    Who id ghis?

    But that said he is still active on social media and is a very nice person to speak to
  8. CardiMuscleman

    The Tale of the Muscular Manservant

    Chapter Sixty Five “All around the world, we’ll go together day by day, anytime you want me, you can whistle in this way, I will be there ready to help you anywhere” sang Jean as he entertained the passengers on the train, at Phileas’s suggestion, sensing they needed some reassurance after their scrape the previous day, and if the reaction of the passengers was any guide it was the right advice as soon they all joined in with some even dancing in the corridors. There were just three people not joining in. Fix and Drummond, who were both sound asleep and Mr. Bullman who was wearing a scowl on his face that erupted into a sudden “SHUT UP!” and stopped Jean’s song mid-sentence. Getting out of his seat, he turned to face Phileas and laid down the law with him. “You listen to me, Mr. Fogg” he said, wagging his finger at the Englishman, “on account of you I have lost some mighty fine railroad, not to mention several wagons of freight and a dining car. So I am not exactly in the mood for celebrating, and I would ask to remind your troubadour here of that fact!” and with that huffed and folded his arms in disgust. “I dare say that we can take comfort in the fact that we are all still in one piece” replied Phileas, taking all the wind out of Mr. Bullman’s sails and as he sat down he mused “Yeah, perhaps you are right. Our safety is the important thing” and with he added “Sorry, John, you carry on with your song!” “It’s Jean, monsieur” smiled Jean and was about to restart when Mr. Bullman stood up again and said “I’m sorry, Mr. Fogg, I’m just rather edgy at the moment what with us about to enter the badlands of America!” “That’s not a problem at all, Mr. Bullman” replied Phileas, “tell me, sir, do you play whist at all?” Mr. Bullman smiled as he nodded. “Then I propose we all play a game to take our minds off things” and asked Fix and Drummond if they played at all. Fix, it turned out, was the best whist player of Scotland Yard, although he didn’t admit that to Mr. Fogg, instead stating that he was the best player “in his workplace” and whilst Drummond didn’t have the first clue, Phileas allocated the players into three groups. He and Fix would be the first group, Aouda and Mr. Bullman would be the second group and Jean and Drummond would be “the dummies” which he explained meant players that didn’t know the game and that the term should not be taken literally. Mr. Bullman produced a deck of cards emblazoned with the Union Pacific railroad emblem and the six of them played for the rest of the morning. Indeed, by lunchtime, chance distinctly favored Phileas with trumps and honours being showered upon his hands. At twelve o’clock precisely, just as Mr. Bullman noted, “Well, lookee here, we’re in Nebraska!”, Phileas, having resolved on a bold stroke, was on the point of playing a spade, when a voice behind him said, “I should play a diamond.” Everyone looked up and as they did, Aouda and Fix gasped in horror. “Ah! it’s you, is it, Englishman?” cried Colonel Proctor; “it’s you who are going to play a spade!” “And who plays it,” replied Phileas Fogg coolly, throwing down the ten of spades. “Well, it pleases me to have it diamonds,” replied the Colonel, in an insolent tone. He made a movement as if to seize the card which had just been played, adding, “You don’t understand anything about whist.” “Perhaps I do, as well as another,” said Phileas Fogg, rising. “You have only to try, son of John Bull,” replied the colonel. “Now, Now, gentlemen” said Mr. Bullman, trying to calm things down, but it was no good. Fix then suddenly stood up and announced “You forget that it is I with whom you have to deal, sir; for it was I whom you not only insulted, but struck!” “Mr. Fix,” said Phileas, “pardon me, but this affair is mine, and mine only. The colonel has again insulted me, by insisting that I should not play a spade, and he shall give me satisfaction for it.” “When and where you will,” replied the American, “and with whatever weapon you choose.” “Sir,” said Mr. Fogg to his adversary, “I am in a great hurry to get back to Europe, and any delay whatever will be greatly to my disadvantage.” “Well, what’s that to me?” replied Colonel Proctor. “Sir,” said Mr. Fogg, very politely, “after our meeting at San Francisco, I determined to return to America and find you as soon as I had completed the business which called me to England.” “Really!” “Will you appoint a meeting for six months hence?” “Why not ten years hence?” “I say six months,” returned Phileas Fogg; “and I shall be at the place of meeting promptly.” “All this is an evasion,” cried Stamp Proctor. “Now or never!” “Very good. You are going to New York?” “No.” “To Chicago?” “No.” “To Omaha?” “What difference is it to you? Do you know Plum Creek?” “No,” replied Mr. Fogg. “It’s the next station. The train will be there in an hour, and will stop there ten minutes. In ten minutes several revolver-shots could be exchanged.” “Very well,” said Mr. Fogg. “I will stop at Plum Creek.” “And I guess you’ll stay there too,” added the American insolently. “Who knows?” replied Mr. Fogg, returning to his seat as coolly as usual. He began to reassure Aouda, telling her that blusterers were never to be feared, and begged Fix to be his second at the approaching duel, a request which the detective could not refuse. Mr. Fogg resumed the interrupted game with perfect calmness. At one o’clock the locomotive’s whistle announced that they were approaching Plum Creek station. Mr. Fogg rose, and, followed by Fix, went out upon the platform. Passepartout accompanied him, carrying a pair of revolvers. Aouda remained in the car, as pale as death. The door of the next car opened, and Colonel Proctor appeared on the platform, attended by a Yankee of his own stamp as his second. But just as the combatants were about to step from the train, the conductor hurried up, and shouted, “You can’t get off, gentlemen!” “Why not?” asked the colonel. “We are twenty minutes late, and we shall not stop.” “But I am going to fight a duel with this gentleman.” “I am sorry,” said the conductor; “but we shall be off at once. There’s the bell ringing now.” The train started. “I’m really very sorry, gentlemen,” said the conductor. “Under any other circumstances I should have been happy to oblige you. But, after all, as you have not had time to fight here, why not fight as we go along? “That wouldn’t be convenient, perhaps, for this gentleman,” said the colonel, in a jeering tone. “It would be perfectly so,” replied Phileas Fogg. “Well, we are really in America,” thought Jean, “and the conductor is a gentleman of the first order!” So muttering, he followed his master. The two combatants, their seconds, and the conductor passed through the cars to the rear of the train. The last car was only occupied by a dozen passengers, whom the conductor politely asked if they would not be so kind as to leave it vacant for a few moments, as two gentlemen had an affair of honour to settle. The passengers granted the request with alacrity, and straightway disappeared. The car, which was some fifty feet long, was very convenient for their purpose. The adversaries might march on each other in the aisle, and fire at their ease. Never was duel more easily arranged. Mr. Fogg and Colonel Proctor, each provided with two six-barreled revolvers, entered the car. The seconds, remaining outside, shut them in. They were to begin firing at the first whistle of the locomotive. After an interval of two minutes, what remained of the two gentlemen would be taken from the car. However, just as Mr. Bullman was about to give the call for the engine to whistle, from out of nowhere an arrow pierced his hat, closely followed by a hail of arrows that embedded themselves into the fixtures and fittings of the carriage. As they did, Mr. Bullman screamed in terror and curled up in a ball on the floor saying “Make them go away, please, anyone, make them go away!” Colonel Proctor and Mr. Fogg, revolvers in hand, hastily quitted their prison, shook each other by the hand and rushed forward where the noise was most clamorous. They then perceived that the train was attacked by a band of Sioux at which point, the quick thinking Englishman took command of the situation and raced into the next carriage with the Colonel at his side and addressed the now cowering passengers. “Listen to me” he announced “Ladies, gentlemen, please remain calm. We have both the weapons and the ammunition needed to defend ourselves. We have nothing to fear if we keep a cool, clear head” “Call yourselves, Yankees!” declared the Colonel, “look at you all, scared of a few arrows. We’ve faced worse than this, remember Gettysburg. What sort of country have we become if a Limey starts commanding us, eh? So come on, get on your feet and get fighting!” “Yeah” replied a man, standing up, “he’s right!” “What are we?” asked another, also standing up, “Men or Mice?” “They may have started this fight” declared a third, “but, by Grant, we’re going to finish it. Come on, people, grab a gun!” and with that everyone stood up and declared their intent to see off this latest attack and were soon being issued guns by Mr. Bullman and the Colonel. Even Fix and Drummond volunteered to take a few pot shots, despite Drummond being scared witless.
  9. CardiMuscleman

    The Tale of the Muscular Manservant

    Chapter Sixty Four “By tarnation, what’s the matter now?” As Mr. Bullman recovered from having been thrown off his seat by the sudden stopping of the train, his question was repeated, although far more politely by Phileas who asked Jean to find out what the matter was. As Jean followed his master’s instruction, he found that he was not the only one as not only had Mr. Bullman left the train, in a now foul mood, but a group of at least forty other passengers had done so as well and all of them were remonstrating with a man carrying a red flag. “No! you can’t pass” the man insisted, “The bridge at Medicine Bow is shaky, and would not bear the weight of the train” “Now listen here” demanded Mr. Bullman, “I will not have this train stopped on account of some redneck who doesn’t know the first thing about trains!” “He does, boss!” replied the engineman and climbed down from the engine, “This is the local signalman” “Okay then” sighed Mr. Bullman, “why can’t this train cross Medicine Bow?” “Well, sir” said the signalman, taking his hat off, “it’s like this. The creek has been swelled by the rains and its turned into a rapid” “And that’s preventing us crossing, because?” demanded Mr. Bullman “The bridge in a ruinous condition, sir” continued the signalman, “Several of the iron wires are broken and, with all due respect, sir, I believe it is impossible to risk the passage!” Suddenly a very loud voice joined the conversation declaring “So how long are we stuck here for?” Jean turned and saw a big brawny fellow with a red beard, flushed face, and broad shoulder walk towards the front of the train, pushing aside everyone who was smaller than him and demanded an answer to his question. “We have telegraphed for a train, sir” came the reply, “but it is not likely that it will reach Medicine Bow is less than six hours” “SIX HOURS!” exclaimed the brawny fellow, Mr. Bullman and Jean, almost in unison “Certainly,” returned the conductor, “besides, it will take us as long as that to reach Medicine Bow on foot.” “But it is only a mile from here,” said one of the passengers. “Yes, but it’s on the other side of the river.” “And can’t we cross that in a boat?” asked the brawny man, but the engineman just shook his head sadly. “Oh, for the love of President Grant” bellowed the brawny man, “Look, do you know who I am? I am Colonel Stamp Proctor, late of the Union army, and I can tell you right now that I am not waiting a second longer than absolutely necessary to cross that bridge” and turning to Mr. Bullman, added “Got that fatso!” and poked him in the chest for added effect before stomping back to the train in a foul mood. Jean, who had been listening to all the arguments, began to lose his temper. Here was an obstacle, indeed, which all his master’s banknotes could not remove and unable to bottle it anymore he denounced the entire American railroad network. “Is that so?” said Mr. Bullman, “You are talking about the longest railroad network in the world. These things happen you know, every once in a while, it comes with the territory don’t you know?” Jean apologised for his outburst and asked Mr. Bullman is there was anything that could be done. “Look!” bellowed Colonel Proctor from his carriage as he stuck his head out of the window, “Is this train going to start moving, or do I have to push it myself? This is a train, that is a bridge, all you need to do is go over it as fast as possible, simple!” But a number of the passengers were at once attracted by the proposal and found the plan a very feasible one and soon stories about engineers leaping their trains over rivers without bridges, by putting on full steam were being banded around and many of those present starting estimating the chances of doing it. “We have fifty chances out of a hundred of getting over,” said one. “Eighty! ninety!” Jean was astounded, and, though ready to attempt anything to get over Medicine Creek, thought the experiment proposed a little too American. “Besides,” thought he, “there’s a still more simple way, and it does not even occur to any of these people! “Sir,” said he aloud to one of the passengers, “the plan seems to me a little dangerous, but—” “Eighty chances!” replied the passenger, turning his back on him. “I know it,” said Jean, turning to another passenger, “but a simple idea—” “Ideas are no use,” returned the American, shrugging his shoulders, “as the engineer assures us that we can pass.” “Doubtless,” urged Jean as he followed the crowd back down the train, “we can pass, but perhaps it would be more prudent—” “What! Prudent!” cried Colonel Proctor popping his head out of the window again, “At full speed, don’t you see, at full speed!” “I know—I see,” repeated Jean trying hard not to kept swept up in the fervor; “but it would be, if not more prudent, since that word displeases you, at least more natural—” “Who! What! What’s the matter with this fellow?” cried several. The poor fellow did not know to whom to address himself. “Are you afraid?” asked Colonel Proctor. “I afraid? Very well; I will show these people that a Frenchman can be as American as they!” “All aboard!” cried the conductor. “Yes, all aboard!” repeated Jean and immediately. “But they can’t prevent me from thinking that it would be more natural for us to cross the bridge on foot, and let the train come after!” and with that reported back to his master who gave the idea much consideration and came up with an additional solution, a solution that Mr. Bullman hated with every fibre of his being “Detach the freight wagons, that will help the train get across the bridge!” “Detach the freight cars?” exclaimed Mr. Bullman, “now look here Mr. Fogg, I’m the president of this railroad and no one detaches anything without my express say so” but as Phileas moved towards the back of the train, ignoring Mr. Bullman the locomotive whistled vigorously and the engineer, reversing the steam, backed the train for nearly three miles—retiring, like a jumper, in order to take a longer leap, by which time Phileas had reached the freight wagons with Mr. Bullman still complaining, accusing him of piracy. Then, with another whistle, he began to move forward; the train increased its speed, and soon its rapidity became frightful; a prolonged screech issued from the locomotive; the piston worked up and down twenty strokes to the second. They perceived that the whole train, rushing on at the rate of a hundred miles an hour, hardly bore upon the rails at all. As they did, Phileas and Mr. Bullman, still complaining, made their way back through the train when as they came across the dining car, the Englishman had another idea that sent Mr. Bullman up the wall. “Aw, come on” he exclaimed, “not the dining car as well!” As the train started to cross the bridge, the signalman’s concerns became clear as the bridge started to bend and bow. “It’s now or never, Mr. Bullman” said Phileas and with that started to detach the dining car Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and as Mr. Bullman looked out of the window he screamed as he saw the bridge starting to disintegrate underneath them. Leaping to Phileas’s aid, he helped him detach the dining car and watched as it fell into the yawning chasm was that Medicine Bow, but it had the desired effect. The train seemed to leap forward and no sooner had it crossed to the other side, than the mighty Medicine Bow bridge collapsed entirely leaving nothing in its wake bar a couple of rail sections hanging over the edges. “It’s not fair!” wailed Mr. Bullman as he made his way back to the passenger compartments and slumped on the seat next to Fix and Drummond, “It’s a disaster, my freight cars, my dining car, I’m ruined!” and with that he stood up and bellowed “You’ve got a lot to answer for, Mr. Fogg, just you wait and see!” before sitting down and crying his eyes out. As the two policemen tried to comfort the railroad president, behind them a man rubbed his chin. “Mr. Fogg?” he asked, “why that’s the name of that limey I met in San Francisco. He owes me an apology!” and with that Colonel Proctor started a search of the train looking for the man who he had a score to settle with.
  10. CardiMuscleman

    GymJunkie's CG Muscle Growth Comic/Stories (UPDATED 1/20/19)

    The story is called "The American Musketeer : The Ultimates Let Loose" and is both a prequel explaining how the plants came to be from an alien planet in the first place and a sequel explaining what happens after the original story ends and can be found here
  11. CardiMuscleman

    GymJunkie's CG Muscle Growth Comic/Stories (UPDATED 1/20/19)

    If he wishes to do so (and again if @Absman420 wishes to interject on this point he is more than happy to do so) but I would not object to @GymJunkieMuscle illustrating my prequel to the Pollination series explaining where the seeds originally came from and what happens after the original story)
  12. CardiMuscleman

    The Tale of the Muscular Manservant

    Chapter Sixty Three “We’ve found him at last, gentlemen, we’ve found him!” “Found who?” asked Mr. Sullivan as Mr. Wesson and Mr. Ralph of the Telegraph bounded into the Reform Club clutching a piece of paper “Phileas” came the reply from Mr. Ralph, explaining that he had just received word from one of the many correspondents across the world that Phileas had been sighted in San Francisco. “I find that very hard to believe” said Mr. Sullivan resuming his game of billiards, “You’ll be telling me next that he’s already on a train heading east” and as he pulled the cue back, Mr. Wesson declared “He is” which caused Mr. Sullivan to miss his shot “Nothing is impossible for Phileas” chirped Mr. Ralph, “you mark my words, he’ll get here well before the twenty first!” “Not if Timothy does his job!” muttered Mr. Sullivan under his breath. *** “The Pacific Railroad is joined by several branches in Iowa, Kansas, Colorado, and Oregon. On leaving Omaha, it passes along the left bank of the Platte River as far as the junction of its northern branch, follows its southern branch, crosses the Laramie territory and the Wahsatch Mountains, turns the Great Salt Lake, and reaches Salt Lake City, the Mormon capital, plunges into the Tuilla Valley, across the American Desert, Cedar and Humboldt Mountains, the Sierra Nevada, and descends, via Sacramento, to the Pacific—its grade, even on the Rocky Mountains, never exceeding one hundred and twelve feet to the mile” and he opened his eyes, Phileas chuckled adding “Who needs a Bradshaw’s eh?” As Jean, Aouda, Fix and Drummond stared in disbelief at Phileas’s almost unlimited knowledge of the American railway system Jean suddenly noticed that they were passing an ocean despite the fact that they were heading inland. Phileas consulted his Bradshaw’s and smiled as he answered “That’s not an ocean, it’s a lake. The Great Salt Lake to be exact. And don’t go getting any ideas about diving into it and doing some fishing. It’s twenty-seven times saltier than the sea!” “What’s the point of a lake without any fish?” grumbled Jean but as he sat down, a hearty chuckle came from the seat behind him and developed into booming laugh that caused Jean to turn around and say “Monsieur, if something is so funny, then I insist on telling us the joke!” The man got up and turned to face Jean. He was very tall, at least six-foot-tall but unlike the sort of men that height that Jean liked, this person was way too big for his own good. The jacket and trousers he was wearing both looked as if they could burst at any moment and as he puffed his cigar into Jean’s face, causing the manservant to cough harshly, he replied “You are, I thought that everyone knew about the Great Salt Lake” and with that sat down next to Aouda and immediately imposed himself on the party, much to everyone’s disgust. “Yes, siree” he said, “I could tell from the moment I laid eyes on you that you weren’t locals. So where are you from then?” “London, sir” replied Phileas, trying his hardest to tolerate this brute of a man who quite frankly was not the sort of person he would speak to in normal circumstances. “Ah, Limeys!” the man replied, “I love the way you talk. I hear that you’ve got some pretty good railroads there, of course they’re nothing like ours, but then England is several hundred times smaller than America, just like you, eh, sir?” and with that he gave Phileas a playful punch on the shoulder. “Er, indeed, sir” said Phileas, wondering what polite Victorian society had to say about punching someone in the stomach who was becoming an exceptionally unwelcome guest. “Tell me” he continued, seemingly ignoring the non-verbal signals being given off by the party for him to leave them alone, “do you know who built this railroad and the guy who is in charge of it now?” “I believe that would be a Mr. Bullman, president of the Union Pacific railway” replied Phileas without looking at his Bradshaw’s “Indeed he is” replied the man “and you’re looking at him” and as if to emphasize the point, he puffed smoke all over the party which lowered their opinion of him even further, if that were indeed possible. Fix and Drummond sitting on the other side of the carriage looked at each other and Fix muttered, “Drummond, when you get a chance, knock some sense into that American would you? He’s beginning to get on my nerves!” “Me too, sir” came the muttered reply As Phileas pulled out his pocket watch, he smiled and getting up said “Do excuse us, Mr. Bullman, but we are all getting rather hungry so would like to avail ourselves of some lunch!” and taking his lead everyone stood up as well and started to make for the dining carriage. However, Mr. Bullman did the same and said “You know, I think I’ll join you” and with that jumped to his feet and bellowed “Hey, you guys in the dining car, get a sixteen-ounce porterhouse steak going, I’m in the mood for a big lunch!” and as he walked off he added “See you shortly!” leaving all the travelers not entirely sure what to do next. *** Despite their misgivings about his brash style, Mr. Bullman was actually a very nice luncheon guest and about halfway through the meal, having poured himself a large glass of whisky, he looked up and declared “Say, we’ve reached Promontory Point already! The greatest event in this nation’s history took place here!” “It did?” asked Phileas “It sure did!” beamed Mr. Bullman, and with that he leaned back in his seat basking in reflected glory, “May 10th, 1869, the day that this nation become united. That was the day that the Central Pacific met up with the Union Pacific for the first time, and though modesty forbids me, I like to think to think that I had a small role to play in that day!” and with that he closed his eyes and started to remember. “It was a glorious morning, that day, and at half past ten, the Central Pacific train arrived ready for the ceremonial meeting. As chairman of the railroad I was asked to do the honours and as President Grant handed me the gold spike to hammer into the railroad that would formally make the connection I declared “Hey, give me some room, a guy’s gotta swing you know!”. After posing for a photograph, I took a deep breath, raised that hammer as high as I could and gave that spike the biggest whack I have given anything in my life. Of course, I hurt my back in the process, which caused hilarity from everyone gathered there, but that was beside the point and after the spike had been hammered in, the train from California and the train from Nebraska inched towards each other and when their cow catchers touched, we all gave a mighty cheer. The United States was now able to say that it’s railroads stretched “from sea to shining sea!” As he slurped down the whisky, he started to brag about his connections to President Grant saying “It was the railroads that secured the election of President Grant in 1868 and I am confident that following his re-election last month, someone not a million miles from you will probably wind up as Transport Secretary in his next cabinet!” As the travelers were hoping desperately for something to just shut Mr. Bullman up, it came in the form of a sudden and highly unexpected stop. Phileas consulted his Bradshaw’s and couldn’t find any reason and so asked Mr. Bullman for any suggestions. The only suggestion he could come up with was that Indians had put boulders on the line to derail the trains, an idea that caused Jean to splutter into his wine. However, Aouda had found the reason without even realising it, when she commented on the cloud that was low on the horizon. The cloud she had spotted was not a cloud, but dust. Dust kicked up by a trail of animals crossing from one side of the horizon to the other, animals that Mr. Bullman knew only too well. “Buffaloes?” he screamed into the speaking tube that had told him the news, “what do you mean buffaloes?” The travelers gazed on this curious spectacle but Phileas Fogg, who had the most reason of all to be in a hurry, remained in his seat, and waited philosophically until it should please the buffaloes to get out of the way. Jean was furious at the delay they occasioned, and longed to discharge his arsenal of revolvers upon them. “What a country!” cried he. “Mere cattle stop the trains, and go by in a procession, just as if they were not impeding travel! Parbleu! I should like to know if Mr. Fogg foresaw this mishap in his programme! And here’s an engineer who doesn’t dare to run the locomotive into this herd of beasts!” The engineer did not try to overcome the obstacle, despite Jean's comments, and he was wise for not doing so. He would have crushed the first buffaloes, no doubt, with the cow-catcher; but the locomotive, however powerful, would soon have been checked, the train would inevitably have been thrown off the track, and would then have been helpless. The best course was to wait patiently, and regain the lost time by greater speed when the obstacle was removed which is precisely what had been planned, for outside the sight of the train, Timothy was chuckling to himself. He had found the buffaloes snoozing in the sun and using a pair of binoculars he had bought in San Francisco, knew that if he stampeded them in the right direction, they would cause the train to stop and so firing the last bullet in his gun, Timothy’s wickedness had caused the desired result. But as good as that was, he knew there was only one way that Phileas would give up his journey and mounting his horse he headed east where his skills of disguise were going to be tested to the limit. The procession of buffaloes lasted six full hours, and it was night before the track was clear. The last ranks of the herd were now passing over the rails, while the first had already disappeared below the southern horizon. I was first made aware of Promontory Point during the opening ceremony of the 2002 Winter Olympics held in Salt Lake City, marked during what I think must have been the biggest karaoke session of "She'll be coming around the mountain" on record, yet have never actually seen the place in question therefore would like to know whether @tomofutahwould be kind enough to post a picture of the place (if he has one) or promise to post a picture the next time he goes there.
  13. CardiMuscleman

    As we do not have a dedicated sports section (hint, hint)

    I met up with the gym owner yesterday and he told me that he never bets on Wales in rugby internationals (as every time he has done so in the past they have lost) so therefore no Six Nations challenge, but he has said that when the NFL season resumes in September he is more than happy to do a Seahawks challenge again which I will organise nearer the time but will start off with a penalty of 20kg per point if the Seahawks lose for me to lift and 100kg per point for him if the Seahawks win. And why do I intend to start that high? Because yesterday he opted to do 8 reps of 57kg (125lbs) on sitting pulldowns for a total of 456kg (1,003lbs) and rattled them off in less than 15 seconds.
  14. CardiMuscleman

    The Tale of the Muscular Manservant

    Chapter Sixty Two “Excuse me, monsieur, but I wonder if you can help me?” “But of course, sir” replied the hotel owner, “what would you like?” “Do you happen to know a place where I can buy some guns?” “But, I thought that your master said…” “My master says a lot of things” replied Jean, “the majority of which I take on board, however his insistence about not having any guns is one that I cannot accept!” “I know just the place” smiled the hotel owner and handed Jean a card that read “For the best guns this side of the Sierra Nevada, visit Buck’s place” with directions to the shop in question. Jean thanked the hotel owner and went back upstairs and said “Monsieur Fix, may I borrow your companion for a few hours, I would like his sage advice on a topic of some concern!” “Drummond?” exclaimed Fix, “a sage?” but consented knowing that he had to keep Jean on board and so the two gentlemen departed and a few moments later, Phileas, Fix and Aouda also departed for a walk through San Francisco. *** As the Frenchman and the English policeman entered the shop on the business card, the usual reassuring tinkle of a bell that they expected from any shop in a civilised nation, had been replaced by two sharp reports of a gun being fired that caused Drummond to dive to the ground yelling “I’ve been shot” a reaction that caused the shop owner to nearly collapse in hysterics. “Oh boy!” he said, slamming the counter with his hand and laughing, “You must be a limey!” “That is true, Monsieur” replied Jean, “but I am Francais!” and with that handed over the business card. “Well” said the owner, “anyone who comes here on the personal recommendation of the owner of the International Hotel gets my complete attention! Now, what would you like gents?” Jean took a list out of his pocket and read a list of nearly every make of gun the American nation had produced. The owner listened carefully and asked to see the list. He read it carefully and then screwed it up and threw it away. “What you need” he said, “is this!” and with that ducked down behind the counter and placed a rifle on the counter that drew appreciative oohs from both men. “Gentlemen” he said, “may I present the premier rifle in California today. This is an Enfield rifle. It’s fifty-five inches long, weighs just under ten pounds, takes a point five seven seven ball and can fire that ball at nine hundred feet a second over a distance of two thousand yards and if I may say so is my own personal choice of rifle!” Jean examined the rifle closely and agreed with the gunsmith and bought a pair of them, but Drummond wasn’t entirely convinced and asked the gunsmith if he had something a little less conspicuous. “I like your thinking, limey!” he said, and produced three smaller guns onto the counter. “These are all Colt revolvers, and where you are heading you are going to need them. Forty-three ounces in weight and only fourteen inches long, perfect for hiding on your person. It takes a paper-wrapped point four four caliber round and conical ball which can fire up to a thousand feet a second but only has a range of about seventy-five yards, but unlike the rifle where you can get three shots out in a minute, this allows you to shoot six shots in less time than it has taken me to explain about it!” Passepartout took two of the guns and after examining them closely, picked up a holster from a nearby shelf and went into the back of the shop to try them out. The gunsmith offered Drummond the last one but the policeman declined. “Listen, mister!” he said, “You are heading east to New York, and that means passing through any number of lands that the Indians call home and believe you and me, they don’t much care for folk!” “Don’t they?” he asked “They are a lazy, backward people anyway” he explained, “But if you intend to go out into the desert without a gun then I don’t think you’ll be able to enjoy New York!” Drummond started to shake like a leaf and so, with a great deal of reluctance, bought the remaining gun. As he did Jean left the back of the shop and came walking towards Drummond with the expression of a desperado. As he drew the guns, like an expert, the shopkeeper whooped with delight and said “Now, there’s a man who knows how to handle his guns” and as a result took ten percent of the price of the sales in celebration. *** Phileas, Aouda and Fix were enjoying their walk through San Francisco and even the inspector had to admit that Phileas’s knowledge of the town was putting him to shame. They soon found themselves in Montgomery Street, where a great crowd was collected; the side-walks, street, horsecar rails, the shop-doors, the windows of the houses, and even the roofs, were full of people. Men were going about carrying large posters, and flags and streamers were floating in the wind; while loud cries were heard on every hand. “Hurrah for Camerfield!” “Hurrah for Mandiboy!” It was a political meeting; at least so Fix conjectured, who said to Mr. Fogg, “Perhaps we had better not mingle with the crowd. There may be danger in it.” “Yes,” returned Phileas; “and blows, even if they are political are still blows.” Fix smiled at this remark; and, in order to be able to see without being jostled about, the party took up a position on the top of a flight of steps situated at the upper end of Montgomery Street. Opposite them, on the other side of the street, between a coal wharf and a petroleum warehouse, a large platform had been erected in the open air, towards which the current of the crowd seemed to be directed. For what purpose was this meeting? What was the occasion of this excited assemblage? Phileas Fogg could not imagine. Was it to nominate some high official—a governor or member of Congress? It was not improbable, so agitated was the multitude before them. Just at this moment there was an unusual stir in the human mass. All the hands were raised in the air. Some, tightly closed, seemed to disappear suddenly in the midst of the cries—an energetic way, no doubt, of casting a vote. The crowd swayed back, the banners and flags wavered, disappeared an instant, then reappeared in tatters. The undulations of the human surge reached the steps, while all the heads floundered on the surface like a sea agitated by a squall. Many of the black hats disappeared, and the greater part of the crowd seemed to have diminished in height. “It is evidently a meeting,” said Fix, “and its object must be an exciting one. I should not wonder if it were about the Alabama, despite the fact that that question is settled.” “Perhaps,” replied Mr. Fogg, simply. Phileas’s concern was indeed, quite justified. The Alabama under discussion was not the state in the south of the country, but the ship. Aouda, leaning upon Mr. Fogg’s arm, observed the tumultuous scene with surprise, while Fix asked a man near him what the cause of it all was. Before the man could reply, a fresh agitation arose; hurrahs and excited shouts were heard; the staffs of the banners began to be used as offensive weapons; and fists flew about in every direction. Thumps were exchanged from the tops of the carriages and omnibuses which had been blocked up in the crowd. Boots and shoes went whirling through the air, and Mr. Fogg thought he even heard the crack of revolvers mingling in the din, the rout approached the stairway, and flowed over the lower step. One of the parties had evidently been repulsed; but the mere lookers-on could not tell whether Mandiboy or Camerfield had gained the upper hand. “It would be prudent for us to retire,” said Fix, who was anxious that Mr. Fogg should not receive any injury, at least until they got back to London. “If there is any question about England in all this, and we were recognised, I fear it would go hard with us.” “An English subject—” began Mr. Fogg. He did not finish his sentence; for a terrific hubbub now arose on the terrace behind the flight of steps where they stood, and there were frantic shouts of, “Hurrah for Mandiboy! Hip, hip, hurrah!” It was a band of voters coming to the rescue of their allies, and taking the Camerfield forces in flank. Mr. Fogg, Aouda, and Fix found themselves between two fires; it was too late to escape. The torrent of men, armed with loaded canes and sticks, was irresistible. Phileas Fogg and Fix were roughly hustled in their attempts to protect their fair companion; the former, as cool as ever, tried to defend himself with the weapons which nature has placed at the end of every Englishman’s arm, but in vain. A big brawny fellow with a red beard, flushed face, and broad shoulders, who seemed to be the chief of the band, raised his clenched fist to strike Mr. Fogg, whom he would have given a crushing blow, had not Fix rushed in and received it in his stead. An enormous bruise immediately made its appearance under the detective’s silk hat, which was completely smashed in. “Yankee!” exclaimed Mr. Fogg, darting a contemptuous look at the ruffian. “Englishman!” returned the other. “We will meet again!” “When you please.” “What is your name?” “Phileas Fogg. And yours?” “Colonel Stamp Proctor.” The human tide now swept by, after overturning Fix, who speedily got upon his feet again, though with tattered clothes. Happily, he was not seriously hurt. His travelling overcoat was divided into two unequal parts, and his trousers resembled those of certain Indians, which fit less compactly than they are easy to put on. Aouda had escaped unharmed, and Fix alone bore marks of the fray in his black and blue bruise. “Thanks,” said Mr. Fogg to the detective, as soon as they were out of the crowd. “No thanks are necessary,” replied. Fix; “but let us go.” “Where?” “To a tailor’s.” Such a visit was, indeed, opportune. The clothing of both Mr. Fogg and Fix was in rags, as if they had themselves been actively engaged in the contest between Camerfield and Mandiboy. An hour after, they were once more suitably attired, and with Aouda returned to the International Hotel. Jean and Drummond were waiting for them and as he showed off the guns he had bought, Jean explained his reasons. “When I was in the circus, monsieur, I received training in the art of firearms. Having witnessed the events of this afternoon, I believe that it would be in all our interests to be able to defend ourselves. We are going to cross this whole country, a country that is populated by people who would much rather chop our scalps off than pass the time of day. If anything happened to us, monsieur, and we didn’t have any firearms, I would hold myself responsible” and with that bowed his head adding “I am sorry to have disobeyed your instructions, monsieur, but…” “Thank you for your concern, Jean” replied Phileas, “and, yes, perhaps you are right” and with that allocated a gun for Fix, a gun for Drummond, a gun for Jean and two guns for himself but warned that they were only to be used in exceptional circumstances, a wow they all agreed to. *** At a quarter before six the travellers reached the station, and found the train ready to depart. As he was about to enter it, Mr. Fogg called a porter, and said to him: “My friend, was there not some trouble to-day in San Francisco?” “It was a political meeting, sir,” replied the porter. “But I thought there was a great deal of disturbance in the streets.” “It was only a meeting assembled for an election.” “The election of a general-in-chief, no doubt?” asked Mr. Fogg. “No, sir; of a justice of the peace.” Phileas said nothing as he boarded the train
  15. CardiMuscleman

    The Tale of the Muscular Manservant

    Chapter Sixty One “A free beer!” the Kid replied swiping a bottle from the counter and drinking it down in one. As he did he turned to one of his colleagues and said “Now, what’s this about a real pretty lady you were talking about?”. The cowboy leant against the bar and pointed to Aouda and as the Kid looked, he started to chuckle “Watch this” and made his way towards her. As he did, Timothy chuckled. This plan was completely full proof, there was no way that Phileas could buy himself out this time and watched as the Kid grabbed hold of Aouda’s hand and started to ravish her. “Sir” said Phileas standing up, “please leave her alone so that we enjoy our meal!” “No one gives me orders, gringo!” replied the Kid and soon the two men were nose to nose. “Then perhaps it is time that someone did” said Phileas, his eyes narrowing. “I’m called the Dingo Kid” replied the Kid, his eyes narrowing as well, “the fastest draw in the west, and you are?” “Phileas Fogg, sir” replied Phileas, “and I would like to think I am a true Englishman!” The Dingo Kid started to chuckle and then burst out laughing and turning to his gang said “Hey, you guys, check out the Limey! Look, no guns!” “I do not believe in firearms, sir” came the reply, and with that he picked up his cane adding “I believe this is even better than a firearm!” By now the Kid was in danger of collapsing with laughter and grabbed Aouda again. This time Phileas’s actions were even more direct and he said “Sir, you have incurred my wrath. If you insist on a fight, then I accept!” “Well” smiled the Kid, “the Limey does have some guts then. What a shame the only place they will be in on the floor! I accept your challenge and ask that you chose your weapon!” The hotel owner ducked down behind the counter and emerged with a collection of guns but Phileas shook his head and held his cane like a fencing sword. “Guns against a cane” mocked the Kid, “oh this is easier than taking candy from a baby!” and with that moved to the far end of the hotel. In the meantime, the hotel owner was hoping, against hope, that nothing got damaged in the crossfire but a stern “Keep your mouth shut and don’t interfere” from Timothy saw the hotel owner grab a bottle and cower underneath the counter. Just at that moment Fix and Drummond entered the bar and were stunned to see Phileas at the opposite end holding his cane facing a gunman. “Easy does it, Drummond” said Fix and they slowly backed away from the doors. “Rico” commanded the Kid, “give the signal and I’ll make sure that this greenhorn doesn’t leave this city alive!” “With pleasure, boss” smiled Timothy wickedly and with that took the gun out of his holster and held it in the air. For the next few moments, the air in the bar could be cut with a knife. No one dare breath as the two combatants faced each other, all the while Timothy’s smile was getting bigger and bigger. Phileas would be killed and therefore unable to complete his journey and all it would take was a single shot and as Timothy pulled the trigger of his gun he relished every millisecond of it. To understand what happened next, it is necessary to slow time down by a factor of nearly a hundred. Timothy’s gunshot was the trigger that saw the Dingo Kid perform a move he had done hundreds of times before, and within nine tenths of a second after the gunshot, his gun was aimed at Phileas. Phileas’ response to the gunshot was just as fast as within a third of a second, Phileas has spun around and using every ounce of strength he could muster threw his cane at the Dingo Kid another third of a second later. Thanks to either incredible mathematical skills on Phileas’s part, or sheer good luck, the cane found its target (the barrel of the Kid’s gun) at the precise moment he fired so that the bullet was able to travel along the gun chamber but was stopped by the cane where at which point it went backwards into the cylinder where the bullets were house. This in turn caused the cylinder to explode and caused the Dingo Kid to scream in pain and throw the gun away. Phileas caught the cane with the gun attached at the end and after pulling out his cane, threw the gun to the floor and said “Sir, you will leave this hotel at once!” “When I’m finished with you, gringo, you’ll wish you’d never been born!” the Kid roared and rolled up his sleeves. Without thinking Jean leapt to his master’s aid and both men put up their fists. Suddenly, Fix burst through the doors of the hotel, having witnessed the whole event from a safe distance, and stood next to the master and the manservant with his own fists raised with Drummond entering a few seconds later saying “I don’t know what my boss is doing, but I’m with him as well!” Just as the Kid was about to throw his punch, the sheriff came bursting in and rugby tackled the Kid to the floor saying “You just can’t stay out of trouble, can you? I told you never to come back here!” and with that the two men wrestled, piquing Jean’s interest a great deal. Eventually the Kid screamed “Uncle, I give up” at which point the Sheriff picked him up by the scruff of the neck and dragged him outside. The rest of the gang, realising that the game was up, followed. The last of whom however shot the four defenders a wicked look. His plan had been foiled, but he had more than one way to stop Phileas and with that broke rank, jumped on a nearby horse and rode out of town in a hail of bullets from the sheriff.
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