Isaiah and Lester, now uncle and nephew in name, continue to chat it up as they merrily make their way across
the lot. Isaiah didn’t hold back as he fills Lester in on his life story. He tells him how he used to be this
and that, but Lester continues to remind him that he stills the same regardless of what he may look on the
outside. “It’s not “use to be”, unck,” he explains to him. “Yer forgetting that yer still the same guy.”
“I know I’m still the same, but its hard acting like nothing has changed for me. I’m gay, I’m older about to
become REAL old, and I’m a bear with a huge odor fetish. Not only those, but I’m being welcomed into a new
family as an uncle and a father. How can I act like I’m the same old me when my entire life is changing?”
“Listen; alls I’m sayin’ is that you don’t have to go so far about it. That’s what happened to Monty and mah
pa. They used ta been real nice fellas, but they came so gung ho on their transformations that they gon n’
forget who they were. Look at ‘em now; a troublemaker and a nasty tycoon who thinks he’s some big shot. You’re
thin’ ta come mah unck, another member of mah family, and I don’t want ya to end up like ‘em is all.”
“Lester…” Isaiah never thought about it that way. “You know boy, I understand where you’re coming from. My own
dad used to be a kind-hearted and caring guy; someone I could look up to. Then life hit ‘em and he started to
hang with the wrong crowd. Dope and marijuana entered into the picture, and suddenly he wasn’t the loving dad
I used to know. Now he’s serving 25 years with all of his other “brothers” and thugs. Don’t worry kiddo. I
sure as heck won’t have you experiencing that same trauma all over again. You’ll always have an uncle, your
friend; to turn to if you need to get something off your chest.”
“And that’s why I love ya the way ya are,” smiles Lester.
For a split second, Isaiah truly had seen Lester as his nephew rather than a friend. What's more is that he
couldn’t shake this underlying feeling that all of this was fated. Like everything he had experience in his
prior life was contrieved just for the purpose of filling that family void his nephew seems to be missing. The
primary intention of him joining the family is to help manage the Triple Crown bears; but he's starting to
feel he was destined for much more than that. Their is an urge growing inside to put right the family that
torments his nephew so; to become the backbone that not only Lester could depend on, but to be there for his
upcoming brother and especially his new son as well. “I love you to,” he replies. Isaiah can sense that his
sexual admiration towards Lester is starting to wane into a lesser but more meaningful degree of “family”
love. “When everythings finished, I think I’m gonna have a good word with the rest of the family so we can all
come together and be one happy bunch.”
They venture forward and they finally arrive at the steps to the house. Even though Isaiah brimmed with
confidence earlier, he could feel butterflies filling his stomach.
“You ready for this, unck?” asks Lester.
“Uh…um yeah. Just a sec.” He closes his eyes and takes in a big breather. This is it. A new life awaits him
past that door. He takes a long glimpse of his surroundings as he knows the next time he’ll be seeing the
world is through the eyes of a much older (and hopefully wiser) different man. As he looks, he spots someone
sitting not too far away. He couldn’t tell who it is as the figure blended with the darkness around.
Lester joins his uncle to see what he’s looking at. “What’s up?”
“That shirt… Isn’t that… No way; it is! C.J!!”
“What!?”
“YOOO-! Ceee-“ Lester tugs his uncles bicep hair just in time to stop him. “Oww!”
“Aren’t ya forgettin’ sumthin’, “unck”?” he says putting great stress in the word unck. “Great… Now yous’ gone
and gots his ‘tention. Listen, don’t say annthing and let mahself do all the yappin’.”
“What!? B-but I... I gotta say my good-byes and rap things up. He and I went through a lot together and this
could be the last time I’ll ever see him again. Come on, let me just have a few words with him.”
“Ugh Fine, but yer gun have ta promise to keep a good check on yer words. Here.” Lester sticks his right pinky
out. “Swear ya ain’t gonna give ‘im any ideas of who ya really are. I’m real seerous (serious) about this,
unck.”
Isaiah raises an eyebrow. “Uhhh… a pinky swear? What are you, 5?"
“Jus’ promise!”
Isaiah reluctantly returns the gesture. “mmmkay… alright.” After that, he then quickly straightens himself up
and turns towards the approaching teenager. At long last, he’ll finally be able to catch up with his old buddy
and wonders how he should approach this coming conversation.
“What do you want, Lester…?” asks C.J. in a depressed (and annoyed) tone.
“I ain’t the one that called ya; he did,” replies Lester as he points to his uncle.
Isaiah gives C.J. a heads up. “Yo man, Um… I uh seen ya sittin’ all the way over there by yourself. I'm just
wondering if everything’s straight with ya.”
C.J. gives the odd stranger an equally odd glare. “Uhhh yeah. And you arrre--?”
“I’m… well… I’m just a curious stranger. It’s dangerous out here being all alone, y’know.”
“Righhht. Thanks for your concern, mister.” C.J. begins to walk off back to where he sat. “Now if you wouldn’t
mind, I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
Isaiah steps forward and reaches out. ”Wait! Mind if I talk with you for a sec? Please?”
C.J. groans, rolls his eyes, and turns back around. “Why? Are you trying to come on to me or something? Sorry,
but I don’t exactly swing that way. Plus, I’m still a minor so you better back off.”
“Hey, calm down! It’s not like that. I just want to have a few words with you, that’s all.”
“About what?”
“About why you’re sitting in the middle of a compound full of older men alone and at night. This place is full
of us gays and some might be more than willing to abduct you or somethin’.”
Lester nods his head and hums, “Mmhmm.”
“Why do you care what happens to me? Leave me alone,” spouts C.J. as he motions the stranger away.
“Hey, don’t be snappin' at my unck like that!” defends Lester. “He be only carin’ bout yer safety is all.”
“Oh, so this is your uncle?” asks C.J. He can immediately see the resemblance between them; however, they look
more like brothers than uncle and nephew. After Lester nods his head, C.J. walks up to Lester’s uncle and
says, “I’m sorry I shouted at you like that, sir.”
Isaiah grins kindly. “No problem, kid.” For now, he decides he’ll refrain from calling C.J. by his name. He
doesn’t want to raise any suspicion about his real identity. “So tell me, what’s eating you, son? Where’s that
friend of yours?
“You mean Mark? He went home not too long ago.”
“How? Isn’t your car still here?”
“It is, but well… this guy from a company called Arctos offered to take him home, and so… yeah.”
Isaiah fondles with his thick mustache. “Hmm, I see,” he mumbles. “So how come you’re still here?
“Actually, I’ve been looking for a friend of mine named [INSERT YOUR FIRST AND LAST NAME HERE], and… I really
don’t want to leave without him,” responds C.J. Of course, he already knows what happened to you, but he
believes that Lester’s uncle wouldn’t believe a word he says if he reveals the true story.
“Oh… well, I don’t know anyone here with that name.” Isaiah glances at his former friend’s troubled face and
lightly elbows him on the shoulder. “Relax, guy. Keep lookin’! I know you’ll find him.”
“Thanks, mister…” C.J. grows quiet and closes his eyes.
Lester looks at the time on his cellphone and nudges his uncle’s shirt. “Yo, unck; I think it’s high time we
wrap this up.”
“(*Sigh) Alright…” sadly mumbles Isaiah. “Well son, I guess I have to get going now.”
“Um, wait…!,” stops C.J. “Before you go, would you mind if I asked you a quick question?”
“Mmkay. Go for it.”
“If… If you had a chance to live a whole new life, one that you’re uncertain you’ll like, would you?”
Isaiah hesitates and instantly becomes shooken. “Um err… Well… um, w-why you asked?” he stutters.
“Well I’m just… thinking about some things right now,” C.J. glances to his side. “That’s okay, you don’t need
to answer. It was a stupid question.”
Lester chimes in with his own opinion. “Wellll if’n ya asked me, I’d reckoned I’d pass. I happen to fancy mah
life, even with the ups and downs.” He then turns to his uncle and smirks slyly. “What ‘bout you, unck?”
Isaiah leers at Lester and is quite put off. “I think I’ll take the chance. It’s an opportunity of a lifetime
and you could think of it as a whole new adventure really. But even so, you also have to take into
consideration of all the things you’ll be giving up. If you feel that you don’t want to leave behind the
things you care for, then maybe it’s not worth it. It all depends, but like I said; I’d personally take the
risk.”
“Good answer, unck!” replies Lester as he happily slaps his uncle on his back.
C.J. grows quiet again and looks onward as he thinks more about his choice. Isaiah on the otherhand becomes a
tad worried at why his former friend would ask such a question. “You sure nothing’s wrong, son? That’s an odd
question to ask.”
"Yes mister. It’s all good.” C.J. has finally settled on a decision and breaks out of his trance. “Excuse me
you two. I need to go inside and have a word with one of them.”
Hearing that, Isaiah grew even more cautious about C.J.’s objective. “You’re going inside too? Well then, how
about coming along with us for a second?”
“What…!?” Lester protests. “We can’t -”
“Quiet, boy!!” shouts Isaiah much to Lester’s surprise.
“Sure… Alright,” responds C.J. cautiously. “I’m sorry to ask, but what’s your name? It’s a little weird to
keep calling you sir for some reason.”
Isaiah stutters at the thought. This is the first time a new name has crossed his mind since he’s changed.
“It’s uh… um...” Isaiah had to think of something fast. Anything at this point would do. He then glaces down
at the many rocks below him and then it hits him. “Rocky!” he shouts. “Ye-yeah, my name’s Rocky. Rocky
“Mountain” Maxwell or just “Rock” is what the guys here like to call me,” he adds to make his sudden new name
sound more believable.
“Hmm, that’s a cool name,” compliments C.J.
“Ain’t it?,” chimes in Lester as he pats his uncle on the back. “It rightly fits him, I reckon.”
Isaiah (or Rock that he is called now) simply blushes from embarrassment. For a name he thought up on the
spot, it does have a cool ring to it. He decides from this moment onward, his name will officially be Rocky
Maxwell; he’ll think up a proper middle name later. “Thanks you two,” he smiles goofily. “Alright, now let’s
hurry inside.” He then turns towards C.J. and whispers, “Stay close to me.”
The three of them venture onward, up the stairs, and arrive at the front door. After a doorbell ring from
Rock, the trio awaits calmly until the effeminate looking man, whom Lester and C.J. know as Adrian, answers
the door. “Yes? How can I help you?”, he asks.
“Yo Adrian, this here mah "unck",” answers Lester as he pats Rock on his shoulder.
“Hm? Oh right! Yes. Come on in, hon.” Adrian motions them in. “Please, this way.” Once they enter, Adrian
immediately begins to lead the three downstairs, into the basement, and arrives at the hidden door C.J.
remembers from before. The effeminate man then pulls out a large oddly looking book from a shelf nearby, opens
it to a page, and then places his palm on that same page.
“Recognition. Confirmed,” abruptly voiced a computer above. A loud click is heard, and then the walls before
them slowly spread apart and reveals a long narrow corridor.
Rock became uneasy as he looked ahead at the narrow corridor leading downwards. “Is Graham really down this
way?” he asks Adrian in concern.
“Of course, handsome. Please watch yourselves as we head down. It’s a little slippery.”
Adrian continues onward and leads the posse down the corridor. After about a 2 to 3 minute walk they finally
arrive at yet another security locked door. Adrian places his palm upon a nearby scanner, but this time he
flinches a little.
“Blood. And. Palm. Recognition. Confirmed,” voiced the same computer from above. The door slides upon and
reveals a fairly empty but large room filled to the brim with cigar smoke. In the middle of the room sits: Mr.
Allen Pryce, the stern Arctos agent; Mr. Tony Steel, the more rational Arctos agent; and Graham Maxwell, the
owner of the establishment. Each is situated around a steel table rambling on about something, smoking cigars,
and drinking a small cold glass of alchohol. However, Graham is the only one with reading glasses on and a
newspaper in hand.
“Hey, men! Guess who finally decide to show?” asks an enthused Adrian as he clutches Rock’s hand and pulls him
forward.
All eyes within the room are glued onto Rock; however, he could do nothing but stand amongst these older gents
entirely paralyzed. His fear and anxiety creates a long drawn out silence throughout the room. In the midst of
such dead air, Maxwell abruptly sets his cigar in an ashtray, drops his newspaper on the table, stands, and
approaches Rock. “Well butter mah butt and call me a biscuit, if it ain’t mah new brother!,” the old man
happily shouts as he pats Rock along the shoulder. “Keep still and let me get a good look at ya.” Maxwell
takes no time and begins to size up the tall man.
Tony sets his own Cigar into an ashtray. “[*Whistle] Looks like we’ve got a giant on our hands,” he comments
before taking a sip of his drink.
“Yessiree, and he’s mighty good-lookin’ ta boot!” replies Maxwell as he frisks Rock’s facial features with his
hands. The old man leaves no corners unturned and carefully examines each area of Rock’s face. “Smile for me,”
he demands and Rock immediately complies. After a long survey of Rock’s new but sullied dentition, a huge grin
emerged from Maxwell’s wispy white beard and he lightly pats Rock’s cheeks. “Geez Louise boy, that tobaccah
shure turned ya into one fine piece of work. No offense Lest’ boy, but it looks like mah new bro gon’ and
copied all yer good features heheh.”
Lester sighs. “Yeah, Pa… Seems that way. He be one lucky fella, that's fer shure. I ain’t ever seen someone
turn out so primped after all that.”
“Wait a minute,” interrupts C.J. as he steps forward. “What’s all this about a new brother and copied
features? Don’t tell me this guy is another one of your “works”!
Irritated and annoyed, Maxwell leers strongly at C.J; however, before a word could escape his mouth, Pryce
stands and speaks up. “Let me handle this,” he suggests as he calmly sets his coffee on the table, and then
proceeds towards C.J’s direction. “Come.” The austere man places his palm against C.J’s back and leads him out
and into another room.
As soon as the door closes, Maxwell fetches his cigar and returns to his examination of Rock. The old man
couldn’t help but to play with Rock’s bigger and more outstretched ears. “Hmhm, yep - Ya rightly got the looks
of a Maxwell I reckon; big ears and all.” After a shy smirk, Maxwell grips his cigar between his fingers and
exhales a cloud of smoke through his mouth and towards Rock’s directiom.”Yer name’s Isaiah, ain’t it?”
“[cough][cough] It wa-was… but [cough] I changed it just awhile ago.” Rock fans the smoke away and regains his
composure. “My name is Rocky now, but you can call me Rock.”
“Rocky Maxwell, eh?” Maxwell takes another long wig of his cigar. “Ghaha! Yeesss, that’s a fine name fer a big
man like ya! Much better than that two-bit boy name ya used to have.”
“Yo, Graham,” Tony interrupts. “Are we gonna finish the prep work for his Transformation or not?”
“Yeah, but first I need some alone time with big ol’ Rock here; y’know ta get to know him betters.” Maxwell
turns around and motions everyone to head out to the back room.
“Oh sure! Take your time, Graham. We have all night to get him in gear,” replies Adrian as he exits. “Come
along now, hon. There’s more I have to tell you about the cruise.”
Tony sighs, clenches his ashtray and glass, and follows after his mate.
Once they leave, Maxwell turns his attention towards his son. “You can stay if’n ya want, boy.”
“That’s okay. You two have some real catchin' up to do. I don’t want to be a bother.” Lester heads toward the
back room, but before he leaves he mentions, “I’ll be in the back helpin’ these two out.”
Maxwell nods his head, and his son makes his leave and closes the door. With the room now clear, Maxwell
hurries to each door to confirm they’re locked tight. Once finished, he proceeds to adjust a seat for Rock at
the table. “Here Rock. Have a seat.”
Rock stares nervously at the old man, but then slowly makes his way over and sits. Once he does, Maxwell
places his cigar back into the ashtray and proceeds to a nearby coat rack where he removes and hangs his large
white cowboy hat. Underneath the hat is a bald scalp with pure white hair horseshoed around the sides of it.
The old man ushers out a deep sigh of relief as he rubs the sweat from his forehead. “It’s a little stuffy in
here, I reckon,” he comments as he hangs his white suit and begins to undo his tie and dress shirt. As soon as
Maxwell turns, Rock is greeted with a forest of white wispy body hair. The old man‘s chest and stomach hair is
so vast that it’s difficult to see his aged skin. Maxwell dims the lights; heads to the table, and clutches
his glass of alcohol. “You jus’ gon sit there scared or what? Git yerself comfortable, Rock. We’s gon be in
here fer a bit,” he suggests as he refills his glass.
“Um… Okay.” Rock scoots his seat closer to the table, and takes off his trucker cap. “Woah,” he yelps as he
glimpses upon a fair amount of his hair wedge inside the cap. Rock rubs his head and witnesses more of his
brown hair slowly falling from his scalp.
“Yer hairline’s gettin’ thinner, boy,” mentions Maxwell as he returns with 2 glasses of alcohol. He sets them
on the table next to Rock, and pulls up a seat of his own, deciding to sit just next to the hair-troubled man.
“That’s a shure sign ya gonna end up comin’ bald like me.”
Rock merely leers at Maxwell in response. The old man ushers in a sip from his glass and asks, “Ever had Irish
whiskey before, boy?”
“Uhh, does beer count?”
“Haha, I’ll take that as a no.” Maxwell scoots Rock’s glass closer. “Here; don’t be shy and try a taste. Yer
old enough now.”
Rock hesitates, but takes a quick sip anyway. While the alcohol was quite strong, it was surprinsingly very
pleasing to the taste buds. Although he wanted to take another sip, he was too nervous as Maxwell's strong
glaring prevent him from doing so. A long silence crept way right afterwards.
"I reckon yer one of them quiet types, aintcha?" asks the old man.
"Uhh not really... Sorry. I'm just a little tense about all this still."
"Ha, don't be. We ain't gonna hurt ya. Though, I reckon ya might have some questions. I'll answer whatever ya
want to tha best of my ability."
"Umm, okay." He takes a deep breath before asking. "First of all, I've heard of the plan about you guys trying
to make me some kind of boss around here; why? Me transforming is one thing, but becoming some kind of figure
here to? That's a bit much, right?."
"Nonsense. Out all the knuckleheads I've seen, ya seem to be the only one wit' enough guts to stand up against
that dumb shithead of mine.
"You mean Monty?"
"Who else? I heard 'bouts how ya stood up fer ya friends and challenged that boy. Despite what I think of him,
that takes some real show of spunk. Not even the bears here have enough heart in 'em to call him out. Ya might
not realize, but alot of these shitheads here have that same high-n-mighty mindset. I hate remindin' these
lugs time and time again whose the real dog in charge and it's taking its toll on me. It doesn't help that I'm
startin' ta venture out from this place. It's my job to spread the Arctos name, and personally, I want to set
up more Triple Crown Bars. I don't got the time to put up with these little games anymore, and I need someone
with a good backbone to keep these shitheads in check."
"Then why not Lester? Wouldn't he be better for something like that?"
"Lester's too young. Ain't none of these bears gonna listen to someone who could be their son. 'Sides I rather
not put such a mess on my boy like that. Of course at first I wasn't in hell gonna let a wimp like you take
charge, but then I realized ya took some of that chaw and started to transform. Yer tha perfect candidate for
what I want, and the folks at Arctos agrees. Ya weren't supposed to taste that chaw in tha first place; but
with the way things turned out, it's the perfect setup to hide this little episode from the masses. Wouldn't
ya agree?"
"I- I guess..."
Maxwell takes a chug of his own whiskey. "Now I's got a question for ya. Are you seriously willin' to become
one of the head honcho's here? Not only that, but you'll turn as old as me and rightfully become the daddy of
that shithead, Vermont, since he's tha one that needs to be put in line the most.
Rock grows quiet once again as he reevalutes his decision.
"'Course ya don't have to and all. We could very well just up n' leave ya like that, but yer gon' have ta find
yer own way ta get by."
"...That's okay. I've already thought it over and I've decided I'll go through with it. Y'know, I was
seriously against it at first, but um... I uh... kinda would like to um... look. like. you," he adds while
blushing.
Maxwell makes a toothy grin and scratches his white wispy chest hair. "Ah so ya like the way I look, eh? Haha,
don't worry; it's only a matter o' time 'til ya inherit all of my kin's genes and be yer own polar bear, or a
Silver daddy is what I like to call."
Once again, Rock couldn't believe how much he's looking forward into becoming an older man. Perhaps it's not
the tobacco messing with his mind. In fact, it's possible that he truly wanted an oppurtunity like this to
arise for the longest. "Yeah, me... a Silver Daddy... I love the sound of that," he smiles as he rubs his own
thick chest hair. "But y'know, how will you guys cover my transformation? My mom sure as heck wouldn't take
it if I just disappeared on her."
"Relax, we already got that covered."
"How so?"
Maxwell stays silent for a bit before speaking up. "Mmgh, I'm not supposed ta say anything, but since I like
ya and all, I guess it wouldn't hurt. Now don't get all upset, but... we gon' ahead and took some bum off the
street and transformed him into ya old self."
"What!!?" he shouts.
"Now now, calm your britches bud. We thoroughly wiped all dem old memories of his and he fully believes he's
you. He's already been sent "home" wit' that boy's pal not too long ago. Don't try worryin' 'bout it, Rock.
For all intent and purposes, he's "Isaiah" now."
Despite Maxwell's efforts, Rock's anxiety didn't let up. His former life is truly no longer his anymore. His
old name, his family, his identity, everything is gone; and now he's fully stuck as this husky white redneck,
Rocky Maxwell, for the rest of his life. The atmosphere is dead silent as he glares intently at the small
glass of whiskey before him. Suddenly, he seizes it and downs the rest of it in one session. He then wipes his
mouth with his arm and slams the glass on the table. "Graham, no... brother, please... I N-NEED to finish this
transformation. Do whatever it takes, but... I have to claim this as my new identity in life. It's... It's the
only thing keeping me from going off the deep end.
Maxwell sees his distress, moves in closer, and places his burly hand upon his shoulder."Settle down there,
Rock. You'll rightly become part of my kin in due time." The old man then surveys Rock again as he rubs along
his hairy shoulders. "Know what, how 'bouts ya go ahead and unwind yerself, boy. Yer at home with yer family
now.
Maxwell then proceeds to help Rock take off his sleeveless shirt as Rock, himself, kicks off his sandles. As
the old man tosses his shirt near the rack, Rock raises his glass and speaks up. "Hey, bro. Gimme another
swing of that whiskey."
Meanwhile, as the old man happily abliges and refills his brother's glass as well as his own, the discussion
between C.J. and Pryce goes on.
"So wait..." interrogates C.J. "Are you telling me that guy in there is really some hobo off the street?
"It's as I say," lies Pryce as he knows full well that the boy will not contain himself if he knows the truth.
"Seriously, you guys are messed up..."
Pryce ignores the comment and asks, "Now then, have you come to an adequate decision yet?"
"Yes I have... I hate to do this, but I can't accept your offer. Even though I deeply care about [INSERT YOUR
NAME HERE] , I simply can't throw everything away just to be with a former shell of himself. It's too selfish
of me to do so."
After a long silence, Pryce closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "I see..." He then proceeds to remove his
gloves. "That's quite unfortunate to hear, young man."
A spine-chilling blue aura begins to emminate around the stern man's hands and C.J. immediately takes notice.
"Wh-what is that? What are you about to do?"
Pryce says nothing as he steadily approaches the teen. His silence causes C.J. to panic and quickly aim for
the door. However, before he even makes a move Pryce shoots forward and effortlessly subdues him. Like a
predator catching his prey, C.J. quickly falls unconcious onto the arms of Pryce. "I'll adhere to your wish.
Though, for your sake we have much more in store for you. You'll understand in due time." Immediately
afterwards, a backlash of pain courses through Pryce's head causes him to seethe in agony. It was enough for
him to almost drop C.J., but fortunately he recollects himself in time. Once fully recuperiated, he properly
takes hold of the teen and carries him into the back via another entrance. Inside lies Cletus and Monty
strapped on to stands, connected to a machine of sorts, and fully unconcious. Across the way are Adrian
leaning against a wall pancuring his nails with a filer while Lester and Tony sit together at a computer
monitoring the status of the confined two.
"Ah, Mr. Pryce sir," speaks up Adrian as he continues at his nails. "I see's the lad's unconcious. I'm
guessing his answer was no, hmm?"
"The young man settled against the change. Thus, I had to take necessary measures."
"It's for the best, IMO," responds Tony. "He would've been a fool if he had agreed; oh well. I've already
tracked the kid's home address ahead of the time. I'll let our driver know what he has to do once he returns."
"There's been a change in plans," replies Pryce as he moves towards Cletus's stand. "Adrian; unstrap this boy
here and make preperations for his return home. He's no longer needed."
"Sure thing." Adrian puts away his filer and proceeds to follow his superiors order.
Tony however skeptically glares at Pryce. "What are you about to do, Allen?"
"Remember Arctos's primary task, Anthony; we are to spread our bearish ideals to as many potential candidates
as possible. I come to deem this young man as a acceptable suitor to our ways."
"What!? Stop Allen! This goes against Arctos's directives! We can't force him to be a bear if he doesn't want
to!"
Pryce pays no heed to Anthony's words and once Adrian removes Cletus, Pryce begins to set C.J. up in the
stand.
"Allen!!"
"Anthony!!" roars Pryce much to everyone elses surprise. "Have you forgotten your place!? You have no
authority to defer my plans! Cease this disposition of yours or be terminated!"
Tony rebounds back a little and grows quiet. After a brief period of silence, he rises from his chair and
clutches his hands tightly. "What the hell's gotten into you, huh...!? The Allen I know would NEVER challenge
the company's regulations.
"Have ya been living under a rock or sumthin'?" chimes in Lester. "This here lunatic has always been like
that."
"...Nevertheless I can't condone such actions. I'm sorry, but I'll have to -,"
Without a moment's notice, Pryce halts what he's doing and dashes at Anthony; immediately slapping his palm
against his forehead and putting him unconscious.
"TONY!!!" Adrian drops Cletus like a ragdoll and rushes to his husband's aid. Lester could only turn his head
away at the scene.
"I've placed a particular wedge within his self-conscious that will break down his mind at my command. If you
don't want your husband to end up a vegetable for the rest of his days, then I suggest you not to contest my
orders."
"You bastard...!!" rages Adrian in a distinctively baritone and manly voice; quite different from the tone he
usually portrays.
"Now then, please send that boy on his way to his vehicle. I'll come revive him once I finish the preparations
here."
Adrian growls deeply, but complies as he has no other choice. He softly situates his husband, picks up Cletus,
and carries him to the main door. There, he kicks it firmly and shouts for Maxwell to open it up. The door
opens and before Maxwell could utter a word, Adrian trucks his way past him while grumbling furiously at the
same time.
"What in tarnation is eating him?" asks Maxwell as he scratches the side of his head. He then turns and finds
Pryce about to collapse and clutching his head in pain. "Woah!" hollers the old man as he comes to his rescue.
"Keep it together now, ol' pal!"
"I'm... sorry...!" mumbles Pryce before regaining composure. The sweat oozing from his forehead clearly
exposes his ailment. "It's getting worse. I'll be in need of a re-examination soon."
Lester impedes and asks, "Hey pa, ya finished wit' unck yet?"
"Unck? Oh, Rock. Naw, I'm still chattin wit' 'im sum...," he responds as he catches Tony out cold on the
floor. "Say, what happened to him?"
"He fell asleep," is all Pryce says on the matter as he shakes his head and returns to strapping C.J. Maxwell
then catches wind of what the Arctos agent is doing and quickly heads back into the prior room and shuts the
door before Rock takes notice.
"Is everything alright?" asks Rock who is leaning back in his chair with his leg's crossed and is now holding
a lit cigar given by Maxwell not too long ago.
"Yep. Ain't nutin' ya need to worry 'bout," replies the old man as heads back to his seat. "So how's that
Cigar workin' out fer ya?"
Rock takes a long drag of his cigar and exhales the smoke through his mouth. "Ain't gonna lie bro, but this
here one mighty fine stick of tobacco," he replies in a mock southern accent. He's beginning to take a shine
to their rough manner of speech and tries to imitate it to the best of his ability.
"Good good. That's the domineering image I want ta see from ya. Looks like I made the right choice."
"Yeah; smokin' all day, drinking good whiskey, not to mention havin' a good fuck or 2 on the side. I can't
wait." Rock smugfully reinserts his cigar and puffs away.
Maxwell is estatic as he watches him get so acquaint with his lifestyle changes. He has no doubt that at this
rate he'll fully satisfied his need as an Assistant Manager. With this, he wonders exactly how far he can
"convert" him. "Say, Rock," speaks up the old man. "So far, how much do ya like us bears?"
Rock takes this chance to sit up right and set his cigar in the nearby ashtray. "Ha. Like? I fuckin' love gay
bears; seeing how I'm one myself now."
"Glad to hear! Y'know, I love being a gay bear myself so much so that I make it my job to sponsor and broaden
our image. I have a proposition fer ya, once everythings said and done, I was wonderin' if'n ya like ta become
part of Arctos and help promote beardom."
Rock drops the fake accent and his eyes widen. "Huh? Me a member of Arctos?"
"Did I stutter? Not only would ya help me run this joint per se, but ya could help stretch our subculture
positively. Hmhm; maybe even secretly coerce some fellas into becoming bears themselves with the help of our
"special" chaw. Hehehe."
"Now wait a sec, Graham. That's going a bit too far. I have morals too, you know. I couldn't promote the same
thing that sort of robbed me of my old life."
"Robbed? I reckoned that tobacco gave ya a fresh one, and then some. Don't tell me ya don't agree."
"Well, yeah... but still..."
"I understand. I ain't gonna pressure ya if'n ya don't won't. But just realize you'll have the power to save
people from their old lives and give them new ones. You'll get the ability to let others experience the same
glorious changes you underwent. Best of all, you'll be a hero to every man you help save, and probably get
rewarded VERY dearly too, if'n ya know what I mean. Heheh."
"I admit, that all does sound nice. But I just can't... Though I can very well join Arctos and help you
promote beardom in other justifyable means, if that's okay."
"If that's yer decision, then sure! I won't hold nothing against ya." Maxwell reaches his hand out for a
shake. "Here's to us bears and let us earnestly help promote our subculture together, brother."
Rock was thrown by surprise as this is the first time Graham called him his brother; a true part of the
family. He became thrilled and smiles vivaciously as he firmly shakes his brothers hand. "Yeah, lets show
society how much pride we bears have!" With this, Rock has become a member of Arctos and a full-fledged
supporter of the bear subculture; just like Maxwell. As soon as he lets go, his mind loses touch with reality
for a mere fraction of a second, as if he had some sort of epiphany, and leaves him completely in shock.
"Woah!" he shouts.
"You okay, bud?"
Rock rubs his eyes to make sure he's okay. "Yeah... My eyes just wigged there for a quick second. Don't know
what happened."
"Hmm... I think it's high time we continue on wit yer transformation," suggests Maxwell as he rises from his
chair. "Ya ready to become an old fart like me?"
"Ya damn right I am, bro!"
"Ghaha! Now that's the spirit, Rock! C'mon, let's git at it!"