It wasn't often that Clyde had an ulterior motive for going over Lincoln's house (at least, a motive that wasn't about trying to get physically close to Lori), but today was an exception. While his best friend was known as "The Man with the Plan", that didn't mean that he was incapable of cooking up a scheme or two on his own. Such a scheme (that was just about as good as foolproof, as far as he was concerned) had come to him the night before, and as he quickly made his way down the Loud house's stairs, he couldn't help but smirk from how easily everything was coming into place for him.

For the past hour or so, he and Lincoln had been hanging out in Lincoln's bedroom reading comics. Then, just as he had anticipated, Lucy had popped up out of nowhere and asked Lincoln if he could look over her limerick to see if he could give her some pointers on how she could improve it. Well, he wasn't expecting Lucy, per se, but he could always count on one of Lincoln's younger sisters barging in on them to ask their big brother to help them with something.

Though Lincoln was somewhat reluctant to accept Lucy's request, he ultimately gave in and asked Clyde to give him a few minutes while he helped her out. That was when Clyde had made his move. Under the pretense of having to use the bathroom, he excused himself from the bedroom after telling Lincoln to take as much time as he needed with Lucy. Now that Clyde had two excuses to be away from Lincoln (his "bathroom emergency" and Lucy's plea), he could move on to the next step without having to worry about Lincoln looking for him for a while.

And with every second counting, he couldn't afford to waste any time.

To his delight, Clyde found that the basement was empty by the time he came down. As par the course for any "evil" plot that was within reach of being complete, Clyde played the role of the mustache-twirling villain by chuckling and rubbing his hands together.

'Good,' he thought as he surveyed his surroundings. 'Now, where is that...aha!'

There it was, lying in the corner—the ticket to sweet paradise. Before yesterday, Clyde never found the bench press to be anything but a waste of time. But after mulling over all the benefits that it could afford him towards achieving his ultimate objective, he was surprised that he had been so blind to its worth all this time.

Lately, it dawned on him that winning Lori's heart was a bit harder than he understood. He knew that Lori appreciated him as a person, but he didn't have the physicality to match his charm. As long as he had spindly, wimpy muscles, Lori would (at best) think he was just a cute little kid.

But after a few months of pushing himself to the limit with a bench press? Why, he was certain that he'd have to buy new clothes with the way his bulging biceps would tear through his shirts like tissue paper. And that didn't even take into account how Lori would undoubtedly love his new physique. His latest daydreams had him flexing his arms while Lori watched him with hearts in her eyes while she swooned and fanned her flushed face with her hand.

Of course, Clyde knew that having strong legs would help him too, but he felt it would be best to break down his bodybuilding plan one step at a time—leg day would simply have to wait for another day. Besides, he felt like having swole arms would be more than enough for now, anyway.

Once he approached the machine, he got to work on setting up the bare barbell that was racked over the inclined bench. Behind the machine was a shelf racked with weights that were obviously supposed to be centered at each end of the bar and then secured in place with the large metal clasps that presently resided on the weight-racked shelf. Clyde figured he could handle around forty pounds of weight, meaning that all he had to do was take care of two twenty pound weights.

After he got a good grip on one of the weights, he hoisted it up to his chest without much of a problem. He felt his arms shake a bit and a slight burning tingle snake into his lower back, but he was otherwise moving the weight towards the bar with minimal strain on his muscles. As he did so, he could only reflect on why he had to move about in stealth to begin with.

The first reason were his parents. They had their own gym equipment in their basement but they forbid him from working out on it until he got older. Like most of their decisions concerning his safety, Clyde chalked up their wariness with their overprotective tendencies.

The last reason was mostly on him, but he couldn't help but imagine that Lincoln would probably underestimate his abilities, too. He figured that, just like his dads, he would probably only be advising caution for his own good.

Or at least, for what he thought was his own good. It only took him a minute to get the weights locked into place, something that he imagined that his dads and Lincoln thought he wouldn't be able to handle without throwing his back out or worse.

'I'll show them,' Clyde thought with a determined look as he laid down on the bench and gripped his hands around the bar.

Phooey to their misgivings! He was sure he could bang out two sets of five reps, no sweat!

…

Okay, maybe a little sweat, but that only meant that he was giving it his all. What was wrong with that?

'Alright, McBride. Time to make those gains: the bod of a god and the heart of a goddess!'