After the Tech Nexus incident (a.k.a. the Forbidden Toast Ascension), we needed a break. A real break. Somewhere chill. Somewhere nobody would explode, glitch, or rate us one star.
Naturally, the ship crashed.
Again.
Destination: Planet FlexMotto: "We Lift Therefore We Are."Political System: Proteinocracy.Currency: Gains.Most common cause of death: Overflexing.
The moment we touched down, the sky flexed.
Yes, you read that right.
The. Sky. Flexed.
Clouds parted like a six-pack. Thunder clapped like a chest slap. A protein shake rained from the heavens.
Toasty scanned the atmosphere.
WARNING: 99% of breathable air is now creatine.
Kaz: "So… hydration?"
Vex: "No. Vaporized testosterone."
A man-shaped mountain stomped toward us. His muscles had muscles. His pecs could probably vote. He didn't wear a shirt — he was the shirt.
He stopped, pointed at me, and yelled with thunder behind his words:
"WHO DARES PARK WITHOUT CURLING A PLANET FIRST?!"
Before I could answer, Toasty floated in front of me and politely said:
"He means you have to lift something heavy to earn citizenship."
"Like… what?"
Just then, a sentient vending machine rolled past, spitting insults.
"Bet you can't lift me, twig boy."
Everyone turned.
Now it was personal.
Cue dramatic montage.
Vex handed me neon gym shorts (why she had them, I'll never ask). Toasty played Eye of the Tiger at illegal volume.
Crowds gathered. A flexing arena rose from the ground.
Lights.
Cameras.
Veins.
The vending machine stood smug, stocked with energy drinks named things like "Thor's Armpit" and "Caffeinocalypse."
I cracked my knuckles. My Ashen Core ignited.
Stage 8: Gym God Awakening.
I grabbed the vending machine.
It screamed.
I screamed louder.
Veins burst from my forehead. Lightning struck nearby protein bars. My shirt exploded — which was weird because I wasn't wearing one.
With one final yell that echoed across the galaxy...
I lifted the vending machine.
Silence.
Then cheers.
Then flexing.
Lots and lots of synchronized flexing.
A buff elder stepped forward and placed a golden protein shaker in my hands.
"You have lifted that which mocks. You are now... our leader."
I blinked. "Wait, what?"
"To rule is to flex."
And just like that—
I became the Supreme Bufflord of Planet Flex.
Back on the ship, Vex looked like she was actively losing faith in reality.
"To recap: you crashed into a planet, lifted a sentient soda box, and now you rule a civilization of protein-obsessed warlords?"
"Toasty, play my anthem."
Toasty beeped, and Careless Whisper played on a flute made of pure bicep.