Chapter 8: The Most Unlikely Of All Alliances
Thursday.
Gene felt increasingly weak and light-headed since last night's dinner, and went to bed earlier than usual. He fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow, and had a dream about the ice cave and his coruplent canine "spirit animal." Gene came to the conclusion that there was a certain truth to this dream: that no matter how much fat and flesh is melted away, he'll always be a fat boy at heart.
That morning, he looked in the bathroom mirror, raised his arms, and noticed patches of swollen red skin under them. "Curse that deodorant," he murmured. "Curse Lyn, while you're at it."
Gene's bathroom visits became less and less frequent, possibly because he had less matter to expel. He had become thinner than Colin at this point, and he couldn't think of any ways to explain it after his theories have all been proven wrong from his meeting with Lyn last night. He decided to go back to the Harry Potter Public Library, check his e-mail (which he forgot to do on Tuesday, and was too busy getting ready for his dinner with Lyn on Wednesday), and possibly find out the true cause of his affliction.
Gene's blue clamkicker pants were baggier than ever, making him look a bit like Hammer in his music videos. And the belt could not be tied any tighter. Something had to be done about it. Gene was dying.
Colin, Ceryle, and Leslie were sitting at the same table at the Potter Library that they were on Tuesday.
"You are not going to believe this, ladies. I heard that that jerk, Hershbrad, is in town to visit his family for a couple of weeks." Colin said to his two groupmates.
"Hershbrad, as in Bein Hershbrad? The time he spent in Novartis probably made him more of an intolerant bullhead than he already is!" Leslie always harbored a dislike for Bein Hershbrad, because he and his intellectual clique would often bully Gene around for no apparent reason. She and her longtime boyfriend, Colin, had made up a name for Bein and his friends: the Maledictorians.
Ceryle noticed someone walking down the hall. He had the same hairstyle and clothes as Gene, but he looked like a balloon that almost all the air had been let out of. Now that Gene was thinner than Colin, his friends were genuinely worried for his life. Especially Ceryle.
Gene told the three study buddies about everything that happened since he last saw them. About what he saw in the factory, and his dinner with Lyn, and the unknown piece of the puzzle.
Ceryle, who was more than just a friend to Gene, was the first to speak. "I always thought you'd die of a heart attack, or diabetes. What a world!"
Leslie followed. "So it's not the salad dressing, we've ruled that out. And lots of people eat salads without any complications."
"Are there any other changes to your diet that have been made at the beginning of this week?" Colin stumbled upon a possible revelation.
"Well, there are those 'Vitaciser' capsules. I've been taking three pills before every meal, for three meals a day."
Suddenly, Colin's eyes nearly shot out of his head. He jumped out of his seat, with a resounding "What the!?" His eyes were fixed on a single man on the opposite side of the room, looking for books with his back to Colin and his friends.
"Hey you guys, doesn't he look a little bit like Bein Hershbrad?"
The mystery man took a book off the shelf and turned around. Gene shivered. "That's him, all right."
As if sensing that people in the vicinity were talking about him, Bein put the book down, looked around the room, and locked stares with Colin. "They see me," Bein mumbled.
"He sees us," Colin half-echoed to Gene and the others. Bein made a beeline for their table.
"Hello, Colin."
"Hello, HERSHBRAD."
"Let's see here, I recognize you, and your girlfriend, and the dark-skinned girl with the crush on the fat guy... but who's the fourth member of your little study group? Someone you know from your second-rate silver-medal junior college?"
Gene spoke up. "Bein Jeffrey Hershbrad, you haven't changed a bit. Always thinking of new ways to insult us. So tell me, how's the weather in Novartis?"
Bein's question was answered. "So, Rothman. It's been a long time, and I see that unlike my always dynamic, hyper-intelligent, irresistable-to-ladies self, you have changed. So tell me, what's your secret? Did Murray's Deli close?"
"For your information, Mister Hershbrad, my parents have recently signed me up for a new, experimental, and possibly harmful weight loss program called 'Diet Club.' I have reason to believe that the 'Vitaciser' capsules they're giving me contain some kind of poison, because I'm getting thinner at an alarming rate, and if this keeps up, I'll die."
"It appears the not-so-mighty Rothman shall soon fall, eh?"
"I guess you're going to find my misfortune is a joyous occasion, Bein?"
"Well, Gene, the OLD Bein would have. But I've grown both physically and mentally during the period I spent in Novartis, and I realize that even the greatest evil force must obey a certain ethical and moral code. And there's a set of rules that all arch-enemies, like you and I, must follow as well. The first of these rules is: Never let an outside entity or organization prevent you from destroying your opponent."
Gene's eyes lit up. "You mean...?"
"Yes, Rothman. For once, we are united. In our crusade... against those who call themselves 'Diet Club'!" As he made his proclamation, Bein's voice was much more dramatic and commanding than ever. Gene and his three friends applauded Bein's unlikely decision, until a white-haired female librarian walked over to their table, gave them a rather annoyed look, and ordered them to leave the premises for excessive noise.
Thursday.
Gene felt increasingly weak and light-headed since last night's dinner, and went to bed earlier than usual. He fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow, and had a dream about the ice cave and his coruplent canine "spirit animal." Gene came to the conclusion that there was a certain truth to this dream: that no matter how much fat and flesh is melted away, he'll always be a fat boy at heart.
That morning, he looked in the bathroom mirror, raised his arms, and noticed patches of swollen red skin under them. "Curse that deodorant," he murmured. "Curse Lyn, while you're at it."
Gene's bathroom visits became less and less frequent, possibly because he had less matter to expel. He had become thinner than Colin at this point, and he couldn't think of any ways to explain it after his theories have all been proven wrong from his meeting with Lyn last night. He decided to go back to the Harry Potter Public Library, check his e-mail (which he forgot to do on Tuesday, and was too busy getting ready for his dinner with Lyn on Wednesday), and possibly find out the true cause of his affliction.
Gene's blue clamkicker pants were baggier than ever, making him look a bit like Hammer in his music videos. And the belt could not be tied any tighter. Something had to be done about it. Gene was dying.
Colin, Ceryle, and Leslie were sitting at the same table at the Potter Library that they were on Tuesday.
"You are not going to believe this, ladies. I heard that that jerk, Hershbrad, is in town to visit his family for a couple of weeks." Colin said to his two groupmates.
"Hershbrad, as in Bein Hershbrad? The time he spent in Novartis probably made him more of an intolerant bullhead than he already is!" Leslie always harbored a dislike for Bein Hershbrad, because he and his intellectual clique would often bully Gene around for no apparent reason. She and her longtime boyfriend, Colin, had made up a name for Bein and his friends: the Maledictorians.
Ceryle noticed someone walking down the hall. He had the same hairstyle and clothes as Gene, but he looked like a balloon that almost all the air had been let out of. Now that Gene was thinner than Colin, his friends were genuinely worried for his life. Especially Ceryle.
Gene told the three study buddies about everything that happened since he last saw them. About what he saw in the factory, and his dinner with Lyn, and the unknown piece of the puzzle.
Ceryle, who was more than just a friend to Gene, was the first to speak. "I always thought you'd die of a heart attack, or diabetes. What a world!"
Leslie followed. "So it's not the salad dressing, we've ruled that out. And lots of people eat salads without any complications."
"Are there any other changes to your diet that have been made at the beginning of this week?" Colin stumbled upon a possible revelation.
"Well, there are those 'Vitaciser' capsules. I've been taking three pills before every meal, for three meals a day."
Suddenly, Colin's eyes nearly shot out of his head. He jumped out of his seat, with a resounding "What the!?" His eyes were fixed on a single man on the opposite side of the room, looking for books with his back to Colin and his friends.
"Hey you guys, doesn't he look a little bit like Bein Hershbrad?"
The mystery man took a book off the shelf and turned around. Gene shivered. "That's him, all right."
As if sensing that people in the vicinity were talking about him, Bein put the book down, looked around the room, and locked stares with Colin. "They see me," Bein mumbled.
"He sees us," Colin half-echoed to Gene and the others. Bein made a beeline for their table.
"Hello, Colin."
"Hello, HERSHBRAD."
"Let's see here, I recognize you, and your girlfriend, and the dark-skinned girl with the crush on the fat guy... but who's the fourth member of your little study group? Someone you know from your second-rate silver-medal junior college?"
Gene spoke up. "Bein Jeffrey Hershbrad, you haven't changed a bit. Always thinking of new ways to insult us. So tell me, how's the weather in Novartis?"
Bein's question was answered. "So, Rothman. It's been a long time, and I see that unlike my always dynamic, hyper-intelligent, irresistable-to-ladies self, you have changed. So tell me, what's your secret? Did Murray's Deli close?"
"For your information, Mister Hershbrad, my parents have recently signed me up for a new, experimental, and possibly harmful weight loss program called 'Diet Club.' I have reason to believe that the 'Vitaciser' capsules they're giving me contain some kind of poison, because I'm getting thinner at an alarming rate, and if this keeps up, I'll die."
"It appears the not-so-mighty Rothman shall soon fall, eh?"
"I guess you're going to find my misfortune is a joyous occasion, Bein?"
"Well, Gene, the OLD Bein would have. But I've grown both physically and mentally during the period I spent in Novartis, and I realize that even the greatest evil force must obey a certain ethical and moral code. And there's a set of rules that all arch-enemies, like you and I, must follow as well. The first of these rules is: Never let an outside entity or organization prevent you from destroying your opponent."
Gene's eyes lit up. "You mean...?"
"Yes, Rothman. For once, we are united. In our crusade... against those who call themselves 'Diet Club'!" As he made his proclamation, Bein's voice was much more dramatic and commanding than ever. Gene and his three friends applauded Bein's unlikely decision, until a white-haired female librarian walked over to their table, gave them a rather annoyed look, and ordered them to leave the premises for excessive noise.
