Not sure if Luke's in character, but I tried my best.

"No."

"Please Bec."

"No."

"It's absolutely vitally necessary that we do this."

"No."

"You know you want to. Come on, Bec."

"Becky, consider this an alternative to stacking CDs. You can even leave early."

"I'd rather stack CDs."

"As your boss, I demand that you do this."

"I will not hesitate to punch you, you know."

"She'll definitely do it. And she has a mean right hook. But your face will probably hurt her tiny, little hand."

"Shut up, Jesse. And this is ridiculous. There is no way in hell I'm going to participate in this."

"Beca, it's the only way."

"Becky, this will put an end to your boyfriend's enflamed ego."

"Exactly, Bec. Except what Luke really means to say is that it will put an end to his takes-up-a-whole-radio-booth ego and feed mine."

"Now that's a scary thought."

"So, are we doing this or what, Becky?"

"Fine. But call me Becky one more time and I'll do worse than punch you. Now, lift up your shirts."

8 minutes of inspection later

"Are you done, yet? My six-pack's getting cold."

"Mine can take it; so stop complaining, Luke. But it is taking you rather long, Bec."

"You guys have been begging me to do this for almost two hours. I can tell it means a lot to both of you, though I don't know why in the hell it would. But I intend to be thorough in my inspection so that I can be a hundred percent certain when I announce the winner."

"It's a guy thing."

"I just want to shut him up about the whole 'not gonna be forever 22' thing."

"Then stop making me get you lunch. One more burger and you won't even have a two-pack to speak of."

"Shut it, both of you. I'm trying to concentrate."

"Let's stop pretending, Beca. I know you love mine best."

"This is rubbish. It's obvious your girlfriend just doesn't want to hurt your feelings. I've won every chest match I've starred in."

"….You're really full of yourself if you like starring in chest matches. This is my first one."

"And it better be your last. I'm not doing this again."

"So, who wins?"

"If it were based on number of abs, it would be Luke since he has a six-pack and Jesse's just on his way to defining his third set of abs. But since I'm the judge, and I don't feel like dry-humping Luke every time he lifts up his shirt, I pick my nerd."

"Ha!"

"This was stupid anyway. I'm gonna go eat my burger."

"Careful, you're not gonna be 22 forever, you know."

A lot of grumbling followed Luke's retreat into his booth.

"So, I didn't exactly like how your gaze kept lingering on Luke's fake six-pack."

"I know. I just liked the growling noises you made under your breath whenever I stared at him too much. And sorry to disappoint you weirdo, but I'm pretty sure they're not fake."

"I beg to differ, but that's not the point. You picked me; you love me best."

"No, I just did it so you wouldn't have a pout on your face for the rest of the day. I didn't pick Luke 'cause I know he's the bigger person and will get over it faster."

"Right. You did hear what he said about starring in chest matches, right? And you heard the cursing?"

"Don't get what you're trying to say. Anyway, I get to leave early so see you tonight."

"Wha- you can't leave. Luke's probably gonna make me do extra slave work for beating him."

"Your fault, not mine."

"Fine. Question though. Did you mean it when you said you felt like dry-humping me whenever I lifted my shirt?"

"….You wanna find out, nerd?"

"Yes, please."

From beyond the radio booth window, two minutes later

"What- I said no sex on the desk!"