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Myomer Masculators
Experiment Summary: Professor Atlas and Team Musclebound - consisting of five section leaders and 14 assistants - are testing a new type of myomer bundle, smaller and requiring less motivating energy than previous models. The new myomer bundle, dubbed "The Schwarzenegger Bicep," was a collection of myomer strings interwoven with a new, electrically soluble nerve circuitry. The team hoped this would solve a problem that had plagued them for the past ten months: the uncoordinated contraction of individual myomer fibers, resulting in uncontrollable and useless twitching.
The myomer bundle, about two meters long and ten centimeters thick, was attached to the test harness, which was little more than a universal gym system using lead weights from a local health spa. The myomer bundle was attached with one end anchored to the concrete floor and the other to the pulley system of the test harness so that, if the contraction succeeded, the strength of the bundle could be measured by how much the bindle could lift.
Atlas:
Is everything all set? Unauthorized personnel out?...Everyone behind the safety barriers?...All right. Good luck, everyone. O.K. Devers, charge the myomer bundle.
Devers:
Myomer bundle charge at 100 percent.
Atlas:
Trethers, measuring instruments ready?
Trethers:
Yes, sir.
Atlas:
Fine. Iona, turn on the cameras. Countdown from five, four, three, two, one, discharge.
[Professor Atlas pushed the discharge switch. Immediately, all the potential energy stored in the myomer bundle became one swift and powerful contraction as the electric current traveled through it. The new myomer bundle composition of "Schwarzenegger's Bicep" contracted into a mass one-tenth its original size. It ripped the thick metal tubing of the test harness to shreds, causing ten-kilogram lead weights to be tossed into the air like confetti. Some of the scientists had to run for their lives to avoid the falling weights.]
Atlas:
My God. Am I hallucinating?
Trethers: Professor, the contraction was off the scale of my instruments!
Atlas: Which means what?
Trethers:
A pull of over one metric ton!
Atlas:
I think it's time to get rip-snorting drunk, don't you?