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"Our top sports story tonight: the bodybuilding world is abuzz with excitement about this fox - Hiro MacCarther, from San Francisco, California! A relative unknown, Mr. MacCarther emerged a winner after last night's West Pre-National Championships in Chicago. From there, he and the other top three contestants will join others from the East Pre-National Championships one month from now in Las Vegas to determine who will reign supreme and take home the coveted title. Here with highlights from Channel 9's exclusive interview is our very own Helen Cetecea! Helen?"

The breathless, joyous face of Hiro blinked onto the screen. It imploded in a storm of sparks, smoke, and shattered glass as a massive black fist ploughed into the flat screen television. Guntur ripped the entire television from the wall and with a livid roar, he tore the appliance in half. Guntur panted, shirtless, in the midst of the rubble.

Behind him, half under the hotel room sheets, Warra gave a sigh. "Well, there goes your five grand."

"Five thousand dollars," Guntur seethed, every word acidic with scorn. "A MEASLY...PATHETIC... five thousand BUCKS!"

He hurled a wooden end table across the room. It shattered through the window and rolled onto the balcony.

"I am going to KILL that fox!"

"Would you cool off, mate?" Warra said. "It's like you always say - the Pre-Nationals are nothing."

Warra flinched at the murderous look Guntur shot him. The bear visibly calmed himself.

"You're right. Now isn't the time for this. I have to focus. This upset was a fluke!"

"Exactly," Warra agreed. He slipped out of the covers and crawled naked over the mattress to stand in front of Guntur.

The tasmanian devil sipped both his paws into one of Guntur's and kissed at his knuckles. "You might not have one the ten grand, big man, but I can make it up to you. My uncle's dead. The rich one who owned the airline? He's left me quite the hefty inheritance. And it's all yours, Guntur."

Guntur looked down at Warra.

"How much?"

"More than enough, my beautiful monster. More than enough to see you take your rightful place on the INTERNATIONAL stage!"

"That's not enough for me. Not now. Not after this," Guntur growled. He slowly lifted Warra clear off his feet, holding him under his arms to bare his massive fangs in the devil's face. "I want it ALL! Do you hear me, you miserable little rat?" His powerful fingers flexed harder and Warra started to whimper. "I want the Mr. Colossus! I want the record books! And YOU are going to get them for me!"

Warra shook like a weed, nodding. "Anything, Guntur! Anything for you! I'll...I mortgage my house. I'll sell my motorcycle. My son can make do paying his own tuition at a trade college or something!"

"Good," Guntur said, placated for the moment. He drew the writhing, whimpering little weakling he called a trainer into his massive arms to conquer his mouth.

"Mmmmmmm....and after I snatch back the Nationals from Hiro, I can leave him and the other weaklings behind for the REAL contests!" Guntur bragged, drooling onto Warra's bulging little hard pecs.

Warra massaged the bear's heavy neck. "And I'll be there every step of the way to coach you. Train you. W..worship you..."

Guntur's deep lustful laugh echoed out the broken hotel window.

****

Las Vegas sat like a gaudy, glimmering sparkler in the middle of the Mojave Desert. Hiro watched it wheel toward him through the darkness out the plane window. His big toes flexed with anticipation. In three days, he would have another chance to cream Guntur. This time, it was for good. But before he did that, Hiro intended to give Guntur a taste of his own weapon - psychological warfare.

The next afternoon, Hiro surveyed the view through the glass door at the back of his hotel room. Through a stand of palms, the six story hotel's central courtyard blazed under the high sun. At the center of the courtyard stood an Olympic sized pool. Its artificial lapis lazuli contrasted with the bone white of the hotel balconies. Hiro chuckled to himself as he slipped on a pair of sunglasses. Time to get to work.

Hiro pushed open the glass sliding door and stepped out into the sunlight in nothing but his shades and swimming speedo. A bobcat passing by on his smartphone glanced up. The phone clattered from his paw. Hiro kept his core tight so his eight pack popped and rippled with every swaggering step. This was going to be fun!

"Here you go, little guy," Hiro said, retrieving the phone and slipping it back into the speechless cat's paw.

Hiro left the swooning bobcat behind. He strode along the edge of the pool, looking for an open spot. He left a trail of gasps, groans and astonished babble in his wake.

A kit's bark of excitement perked Hiro's ears. He lowered his shades as he spied a young fox of perhaps eleven or twelve directly ahead, slapping his bored-looking father on the shoulder and pointing towards Hiro.

The father deigned to raise his head from his newspaper and Hiro could have attached a cash register sound to the way his jaw fell open. The young fox stood as Hiro strode closer. He stared and stared at Hiro with enormous liquid eyes, little paws clasped behind himself, rocking on his heels.

Hiro couldn't help but grin. He pulled off his shades and half crouched beside the boy.

"What's your name, little bro?" Hiro asked.

"R...Robert..." the kit managed to squeak out.

"Nice to meet you, Rob. I'm Hiro." Hiro extended a paw.

Rob gave it a timid shake.

"So how do you like Las Vegas?"

"''s'okay, I guess," Rob mumbled. Then he gushed out "You're HUUUUGE!"

Hiro laughed. "You like it?" He casually flexed one meaty arm.

Rob grabbed the mighty bulge of his muscle with all his boyhood strength. "WOW! You're AMAZING! Isn't he AWESOME, dad?"

"I...ahem...I didn't know foxes could get so big!" Rob's father managed.

Hiro patted Rob's head. "You want to go for a ride?"

Rob slapped both paws to his mouth. He turned pleading eyes to his father. "Can I dad? Can I PLEASE?"

He barely waited for his father to say yes before he clambered like a monkey up Hiro's enormous back and straddled his neck.

Hiro carefully stood and waded into the water. He did a slow sloshing walk to the far side of the pool and back while Rob whooped and cheered. All too soon for Rob, it was over. Hiro pulled Rob off and handed him back to his father with another pat.

"I wanna lift weights, dad!"

"Well..now...we'll have to talk about that, son. I mean, I don't want you thinking you can get as big as your new friend, there," Rob's dad demurred.

Hiro put his paws on his hips. "And why can't he?"

Rob's dad gulped audibly. Hiro crouched beside Rob again and took his little paw. "I wasn't much older than you when I started lifting weights, little bro. I bet if you ask really nicely, your parents will say yes. Just like mine did."

"And then I'll grow up to be BIG? Like you?" Rob whispered.

Hiro's smile was tender. "It's not easy, Rob. It takes a LOT of work, but if you're willing to do what it takes, I promise you'll be the biggest guy in your family! How's that?"

Rob grinned like Christmas morning. Hiro left Rob behind, slipping his shades back into place to hide a sudden film of tears in his eyes. He felt strangely light, filled with a wonderful, golden warmth that had nothing to do with the sun.

Hiro stopped by a side cafe to order a protein fruit smoothie. He had to say his order twice before the gaping mouthed raccoon working the counter responded. Hiro grinned and shook his head. He could feel the stares of passing tourists where he leaned against the counter.

A loud pair of voices tangled together, heading his way. Hiro spotted a pair of wolf jocks in matching sleevless tees and cargo shorts. They were deep into a debate about a hypothetical wrestling match when the left wolf slapped the other in the chest.

"Brooo!" He pointed with a paw at Hiro.

"Duuuuuude!" the other wolf approached Hiro with some hesitation in his steps. "Are you, like, for real?"

"Well, what do you think?" Hiro asked. He bounced his bare pecs.

"Oooohh SHIIIT!" the first wolf half howled.

"Whattya take, brah?" the second wolf asked. "Stems? GroNo? Hulkburr? I've tried ALL of them, but I gotta know how you blew yourself up so fucking SWOLE, man!"

"Would you believe just straight up cheap protein powder and a basic creatine cycle?" Hiro said.

The wolves guffawed.

"No, no, seriously, dude," the second wolf urged, casually slapping the back of one paw against Hiro's huge chest. "What's your secret? C'mon."

"Two and a half hours a day in the gym, six days a week, and about eight or nine meals," Hiro answered.

As one, the wolves reared back.

"Are you shitting me?" the first wolf said. "Nobody can eat that much!"

"Pssh, let's go, brah, he's not gonna tell us his trade secrets," the second wolf said to his companion.

Hiro sighed. The shake arrived. Hiro fished his card out of his wallet, but the raccoon held up a paw.

"No charge for that, Mr. MacCarther."

Hiro's eyebrows rose. "I didn't know you recognized me."

The raccoon blushed all the way to his tail. "I followed you on FurTube. I watched your competition live. You were...incredible."

"Do you have a ticket to the Nationals?" Hiro asked.

The raccoon looked down. "I couldn't afford one."

"Well, let me talk to my coach," Hiro offered. "I'm sure we could get you in."

The racoon held up his paws, shaking his head quickly. "Oh, no, no, no! That's okay! I'll just watch it on FurTube again! Really, that's fine!"

"Are you sure?"

"Mhmm! I...I really appreciate the offer, though!" the raccoon answered.

"Well, suit yourself," Hiro said. He took his smoothie and smiled at his fan. "But you're not getting away scot free. Here. Give this a feel."

Hiro planted his elbow on the counter and curled his arm up into a bowling ball sized mound. The raccoon shivered clear to his stripped tail. Hiro nodded encouragement, and he bit his lip, inching forward. His paws slowly rubbed from the center of the bicep's peak down the sides.

"....ooohhhh...oh my...." the raccoon whispered.

Hiro gave it a pump. "Nice, huh?"

The raccoon's eyes squeezed shut. His forehead creased into a knot. His little body gave a spasm.

"Mmnngh!"

The raccoon's ears flattened in embarrassment. He'd just jizzed in his pants. Hiro withdrew a step.

"I'm sorry," Hiro said.

The raccoon put his back to the service window, sniffling. "Please just go!"

Hiro retreated all the way back to his room. He stared at himself in the mirror - a sculpted, perfected titan of a fox. Silver-grey eyes. Thin, dark eyebrows. There was a power to his body he'd never realized he had.

Hiro couldn't really blame people for their mixed reactions. Why, Hiro didn't know what he would do if he bumped into Lawrence Tavoro. Probably piss his posers!

He thought again of the poor raccoon and a lump of guilt tightened in his throat. Hiro shook his head. He couldn't do this. This was Guntur's game - a game of dominance and humiliation.

Burt found Hiro sitting on the hotel bed, flipping channels when he got back from arranging the final contest details.

"What's up, champ?"

Hiro flicked off the television and tossed the remote onto the bed beside him. "Things didn't go so well today."

"What you do you mean?" Burt asked. "Thought you were all psyched up to get out there and wow some folks."

"I was," Hiro said. He sighed, dropping his paws between his knees. "But I was wrong."

Burt put a white paper bag packed with food on the end table between the twin beds and sat next to the huge fox.

"Talk to me."

Hiro told Burt about his encounters - the young fox, the two wolves, and the raccoon.

"I feel terrible, Burt. I don't know what I should do. I mean, the idea of stirring up fan sympathy against Guntur still sounds like a good one, but if it means I have to treat people like he does? No. Forget it."

Burt smiled. He put a paw on Hiro's thigh.

"Hiro, if there's one thing I've learned in thirty years of coaching, it's that there are good athletes and there are bad athletes. I'm not talking about how well they play the game. I'm talking about character. Now, some guys think winning is everything. If they step on a few toes along the way, so be it. If they get the trophy, they get the fans.

For others, their skill at a sport is a beacon for others to follow. They're the ones who make their teams stronger, the ones who transform tired and burnt-out teams into a band of brothers. They don't win as often, true. A lot of the time, the only ones who'll really remember them are their teammates. But THEY are the ones who do more than play a sport, Hiro. They are the ones who change lives."

Burt squeezed Hiro's rippling thigh. "I left my high school coaching job to train you because that's who you are, Hiro. Play into that. Let Guntur do what he does best. You," Burt poked Hiro's chest, "do what YOU do best."

****

The hotel fitness center was quiet when Hiro walked in. He wasn't surprised. People didn't come to Vegas to work out. There were three staff members lounging behind a U-shaped desk, all coyotes. They looked more like zombies, eyes glazed over, killing time before their shift ended on their computers and their phones.

Hiro scanned the gym, noting the gleaming equipment. One old donkey wheezed on a shoulder press machine in the far corner. A heavy-set female cheetah chugged away on a treadmill, eyes glued to an overhead television.

"What are those, new?" Hiro asked.

One of the coyotes glanced up from his phone. He gulped audibly. Hiro smiled at him.

"Uh, y-yeah! We just installed them last Christmas," said the coyote.

His reaction alerted his two companions. In another heartbeat, three pair of hazel eyes were drinking in the sight of Hiro, standing there in his form-fitting grey muscle shirt and gym shorts.

Hiro smirked at all three of them. "What do you say we put them through their paces?"

Hiro spent all day at the fitness center, working every piece of equipment they had. The heaviest machine settings, the biggest weights - he made cables sing and benches creak. The coyotes - Tomas, Hal, and Ricardo - never left his side.

They sighed in unison to the way Hiro's heavy pecs swelled and bunched. They took turns fondling his jutting, high biceps as Hiro grunted and worked a good pump into them. Soon, Hiro wasn't just lifting. He was posing for photos.

"Oh jeez, I've always WANTED to see a really huge guy in here!" Hal gushed. He was the first of the coyotes Hiro had spoken to.

"Get in here, Hal," Hiro commanded. "Somebody get a shot of the two of us together."

Hal approached, suddenly timid. Hiro grinned and struck a side biceps pose, making his abs tighten and his arm muscles pop. Hal just shook his head.

"You're so beautiful, Hiro. You're...incredible."

"Hey," Hiro held Hal's shoulders. "What's the matter?"

Hal shrugged. "I've dreamed of meeting a guy like you and, well, being big like you are."

"What's wrong with that?"

Hal let out a gently bitter laugh. "You don't see a lot of buff coyotes, do you?"

"You don't see a lot of big foxes, either."

"Sorry, Hiro," Hal said. "That doesn't really help. I mean, look at you. How can someone like me ever compare to you?"

Hiro looked at the other two coyotes. "Is that how the rest of you feel?"

"It's probably hard for you to understand," Ricardo answered. "But as much as we love seeing what you can do, it's humbling at the same time. We all feel like lesser men next to you."

Tomas touched Hiro's bulging forearm at Hiro's stricken look. "Don't take it too personally, Hiro. We've loved every second of your time with us."

The other coyotes nodded. Hiro opened his huge arms and they slid into his embrace.

"Can I tell you a secret, boys?" Hiro said. "When I started, I wasn't much buffer than you. Maybe I am some freak of nature that only happens once in a million times. But we all love this sport. You push yourselves just like I push myself. We all know the sore muscles, the endless meal planning, and the thrill we get when we've made real gains. So, in all the ways that matter, we're not that much different. I want you all to remember that."

The looks of honest gratitude told Hiro that they would. Hal got his photo with Hiro flexing. The rest had their turns.

Somehow, word spread through the hotel, and Hiro found himself with more willing photographers so that he could take group shots. He did push ups with his back full of whooping, moaning fans. He balanced all three coyotes on his double biceps pose, along with their manager.

When it was over, and paws were shaken all around, Hiro all but floated back to his room. Burt was there with another enormous meal for him. Dear Burt. Hiro accepted the meal, and then yanked the big rat into a hug.

"Whoa! Easy, champ!" Burt chuckled, thumping his bulging back. "What'd I do to deserve this?"

"Everything," Hiro said. "I just....I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you, Burt."

Burt swallowed hard against a sudden surge of emotion. He pushed his way out of the hug.

"Ah, don't get all mushy on me, Hiro. Come on. Your chicken's getting cold."

Hiro tackled the pile of meat with his fork.

"Enjoy that, because after today, you have to start shedding as much body fat as you can," Burt said.

"Don't worry about me," Hiro answered. "I'm more ready now than I was at the Pre Nationals. I've beaten Guntur before. I can do it again!"

"That's what I like to hear," Burt encouraged. "Can we expect the bulk of the fans behind you, too?"

Hiro gave a wicked chuckle. "Let's just say Guntur's going to get a lot fewer applause than he's expecting!"

****

Guntur was looking good. Beyond good. Phenomenal. Hiro could count the striations in the sun bear's glutes from across the pump room. Guntur knew it, too. He flaunted himself from one end of the room to the other. It was going to be close.

Hiro eyed his other competition - the winners from the East Coast Pre Nationals. One was a grim-faced tiger named Rami. The sheer size of his pectorals was enough to make Hiro's mouth dry. The naughty part of Hiro's brain wondered what it would be like to bury his muzzle between them. The other contender, and Hiro's rival champion, was Casey. Casey was a giraffe, and the largest man Hiro had ever seen. He was like a wall of pale spotted muscle who moved about the weights like a monster from a Japanese movie.

"All right guys," came the call from the stage door. "You're on in ten."

Hiro took a breath. He prepared to line up with the other three gleaming muscled giants. Guntur stood directly ahead of him. Before they entered the darkness behind the posing area, Guntur turned his head just long enough to fix Hiro with a smug look. That, more than anything, unsettled Hiro. Guntur had proof that he wasn't number one any more. What was he hiding that made him so cocky?

Someone stroked a finger down Hiro's short vulpine ruff from behind.

"Best of luck, short stuff," Casey rumbled from overhead.

"You, too, Casey."

Casey's mouth tickled his ear. "Winner fucks loser tonight?"

Hiro couldn't suppress a shiver. "You're on."

The stage had been assembled out in the open air. Hiro was grateful for that. The cool evening helped to offset the heat from the lights. The moment that Hiro appeared, the audience started up. Hiro half froze, startled. He recognized the three coyotes from the hotel gym at the center of the biggest noise, but there were more cheers than that. A LOT more. The coyotes must have shared their pics online, and those people had shared it with others. Now it was Hiro who had the biggest cheering squad. Bigger and louder than Guntur had received.

Hiro deliberately ignored Guntur, basking in the sweet mixture of victory and revenge. Now it was time for phase two. This contest included a group free pose round. Hiro intended to use that to its fullest.

He made it through the standing and required poses easy enough. His cheering squad never let up. It was all Hiro could do not to lower his ears in a blush. Guntur confronted Hiro the moment he stepped backstage to prepare for the free posing round.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Guntur said.

"Taking you down a peg or two," Hiro answered.

For a split second, Hiro really thought Guntur might hit him.

"You think winning one little contest makes you my biggest rival?" Guntur said. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Is it flattery? I don't know, Guntur. I stole one title from you already. What's one more?"

Casey cleared his throat. "If you two are done with your lover's spat, they want us back on stage."

Hiro stuck to Guntur like a shadow. If Guntur flexed his arms, Hiro popped a lat spread. When Guntur bent downward into a flex mean to showcase his delts and back and the same time, Hiro was behind him, doing his best archer pose. He wanted the judges to see that they were equal in size.

Casey sauntered by on his way to the other side of the stage. He paused to treat the audience to a simple one-armed bicep flex, right behind Hiro's head. The bulge eclipsed Hiro's head like a halo.

"There's more than one contestant you have to watch out for," Casey murmured while the front rows swooned over his arms. "And that ass of yours is looking mighty fine."

Hiro chuckled. Guntur was putting up an aggressive front to disguise how rattled the direct comparisons with Hiro had made him. Hiro could afford to relax a bit.

Hiro joined Casey at his end of the stage. They did a mirrored pose together front to front, both of them grinning wide as they crunched down on their obliques, their mighty triceps bulging behind their heads. Their bulges nearly touched. Casey flashed Hiro a wink as they relaxed out of the pose to cross the stage. So that was the giraffe's strategy - get Hiro thinking about a night of passion and stop focusing on the contest. Hiro slipped free of Casey's spell to slam into a crab pose beside Rami's most muscular. He made a mental note to get a copy of the judge's recording afterward. He HAD to see those stupendous tiger pecs in action.

The free pose ended. The judges would compare notes, and allow each contestant to take the stage one last time for their own personal posedown. Guntur was first up. Hiro started a mental rundown of his own routine to keep calm. Unlike at the Pre-Nationals, here there was no actual curtain. From the perspective of the audience, those not on the stage were movements in shadow blurred out by the glare of the lights. It gave Hiro a perfect view of Guntur's entire routine.

An evil idea wormed its way into Hiro's mind. Hiro couldn't memorize Guntur's entire routine from one viewing, but Guntur had one or two signature flexes that Hiro COULD copy. So Guntur didn't consider Hiro his rival? He would after tonight.

The audience responded with typical wild enthusiasm for Guntur before he swaggered off stage. The judges called Hiro's number.

The crowd surged into a seated mob before Hiro even appeared. The noise was twice that they'd given to Guntur, and Hiro hadn't even started flexing yet! Hiro smirked. This was going to be fun!

The opening electric guitar and drum chords shook the speakers. Hiro twisted his body half to the side, extended one arm out straight, then slowly curled it up into a huge, proud peak. He rippled his six pack on his way into a rear-facing archer's pose and even dared to playfully flex his glutes as if they were a second set of pecs.

The audience lost their minds. Hiro grinned. A rush of adrenaline lunged from his chest down to his loins. His basic routine was muscle memory by now. It gave Hiro the freedom to play. Hiro owned the stage, back to front, left to right. He left no section of the crowd unattended. When Hiro spied the three coyotes from the hotel gym, far back in the bleachers, he locked eyes with them.

Hiro sank to his knees, legs spread shameless and wide, and flexed both enormous arms far behind his head. Closing his eyes, he rolled his tongue alone one throbbing bicep while keeping his abs hard and tight. A collective moan rose through the crowd. Hiro flexed his quads to rise back to his feetpaws as fluid as a breakdancer. The audience was clapping in time to the song. Pride, confidence, and raw lust swirled through Hiro's body. He was half hard by now, giving his posing thong a lovely strain that made those closest to the stage swoon.

The song was drawing to a close. Hiro let loose with Guntur's first signature move. He bent his upper body toward the judges at an angle and flexed both arms across each other, pointing a finger to each surging bicep peak. Everyone knew what he was doing, and Hiro saw at least one of the judges mouthing an 'Oh my god.' Hiro had won. Hiro knew he had won. He felt too damn good.

Time for the final pose. Guntur's other move was a modification on the most muscular, where he forced his biceps under his pecs to left them outward. Hiro had never done it before. He took his time, and the audience devoured the sight of all that majestic vulpine muscle swelling, rolling, bulging, surging, until at last his biceps touched under the lower edges of his chest and Hiro grinned with his tongue extended like a heavy metal rock star.

Hiro rose up straight after his last flex. He grinned and fired off his finger pistols at the crowd - one for the coyotes in the stands, one for the judges - pow, pow.

Back in the shadows, Casey was clapping his hands along with the crowd. Hiro gave him a little cheeky bow.

"I hope I didn't make your job too hard, Casey," Hiro said.

"Are you kidding?" Casey grinned. "You got the audience all warmed up for me!"

Hiro stood back, paws on his hips, to watch Casey's routine. That's when Rami approached him. There was something like awe in his eyes.

"Rami," Hiro greeted him.

"I must apologize to you, Mr. MacCarther," Rami said.

"Oh? What for?"

Rami held out his paw. "For ever doubting you as a competitor."

Hiro accepted the shake. "You're not going to forfeit are you?"

Rami smiled and shook his head. "Of course not. But my feelings toward you have been unworthy. Perhaps now Allah will be merciful enough to grant me a medal."

"Ah," Hiro said. He hadn't pegged Rami as a religious man.

Casey finished. Rami took the stage. Guntur sidled over.

"He'd better pray," Guntur snickered. "That tiger'll need a miracle to win."

"Why can't you let anyone else enjoy themselves, Guntur?" Hiro asked, exasperated. "Why do you always have to be so small?"

"What did you call me?" Guntur said.

He blocked Hiro's view of the stage, muzzle in his face. Hiro summoned every ounce of willpower he had, willpower built and tempered in the gym. He let his boiling anger wash off of him like sweat.

"I said you're a small man, Guntur. Small where it really counts. In here." Hiro tapped at his own bulging chest. "You're a heartless brute who only cares about one thing. If your fans knew what you were really like, they'd only pity you."

If Guntur's eyes could have glowed, they would have. "I'll show you who the SMALL MAN is, you smart-mouthed PEST! Just wait!"

"Guntur!" Casey said. "Cool your jets or I'm calling security!"

Guntur gave Hiro one last murderous look before he stalked to the other side of the stage, prowling like some ursine panther.

Hiro just shook his head. Despite himself, he was worried for Guntur. The huge bear was making this contest personal. If he lost, it would be an insult. And Guntur didn't tolerate insults. He'd come after Hiro and anyone who stood in his way.

The judges were comparing notes, now. Hiro gazed upward. Up beyond the lights. He could just make out a few stars against the glare of Vegas. Hiro remembered sitting on the front porch of his grandfather's house while his grandfather told Hiro his destiny lay there in the stars.

Rami nudged Hiro. The four of them stepped onto the stage together. It would be Rami, Casey in third, Guntur second. Hiro still felt sure of his win.

"In fourth place, from Los Angeles California, Guntur Sabah!"

Hiro's eyes widened in shock. Had he heard right? Hiro looked across the stage. Casey and Rami looked just as surprised as Hiro was. Guntur didn't move for a moment. He took a few steps forward and somehow managed to smile, wave, and pump a big fist into the air.

Hiro's heart went out to the bear. It was a massive upset. The audience was buzzing more than it was cheering. The lion dressed in a suit and tie behind the announcer's podium had to wave for quiet once more.

"In third place, from Philadelphia Pennsylvania, taking home the bronze medal and the check for $7,000 - Rami Khan!"

Casey and Hiro exchanged handshakes with a grinning Rami. The giraffe and the fox moved to stand side by side. Casey even lay a bulging arm against Hiro's shoulder as if they were old friends.

The lion smiled to the two remaining contestants. He flipped his cards and looked down. The lion's smile broadened.

"Well, ladies and gentleman, we have history in the making tonight. In second place, from New York City, with the check for $15,000, Casey Jones!"

Casey stepped away from Hiro. It was his moment in the spotlight, but the raffe was beaming for Hiro, pointing a finger at him in congratulations. Hiro felt the same unreality settle on him, the same light-headed feeling of true accomplishment.

The audience surged to its feet. The judges stood to applaud him. The lion at the podium clapped with everyone else, while Hiro stepped to the edge of the stage to take in his victory.

Hiro was the National Champion. He had $25,000 in winnings. Poor Burt would be swamped with phone calls from bodybuilding magazines, web bloggers, and potential sponsors. There were more handshakes - from the lion announcer, from the judges who came up on stage after the formal announcement of Hiro's win, from Hiro's competitors. All except for Guntur, of course.

Hiro was handed an oversized check and stood there, beaming, flexing for a blizzard of camera flashes. From somewhere in the happy chaos, Burt emerged. Hiro passed the check back to the lion announcer in order to embrace him.

The full significance of what he'd done washed over Hiro. He and Burt laughed together, whooping, with Hiro fighting back tears of joy. Burt clapped his back over and over, at a loss for words.

"Mr. MacCarther! Over here, Mr. MacCarther!"

A doberman and a rabbit were waving to get Hiro's attention. One of them held a digital recorder. Hiro approached them.

"Alex and Chase for Muscle Today," the rabbit introduced them. "You're the first fox ever to win a major national title. How does that make you feel?"

Hiro blew through his lips, trying to think. "Well, obviously I'm thrilled beyond words. I mean, to come so far. It's more than I ever thought possible!"

"What are your plans now?" Alex asked.

"Oh man. Uh, I guess just keep on training. Right? I mean, it never ends."

The two reporters nodded. Chase, the rabbit, broke into an evil smile. "Mr. Sabah!" he called. "What do you think of the results of the contest?"

Hiro backed up a few steps to give Guntur room. The sun bear slid up to the reports, calm as shadow. Yet, Hiro could see his eyes. The indignation there. The rage. The sense of personal slight and injustice. Guntur was not taking this well. He was looking for a way to lash out.

"I think it's precious how much everyone is making of this," Guntur said. "For myself, I've bigger bigger and better things to worry about."

"Oh?" Alex said. "What would that be?"

Guntur raised his thick brows in mock surprise. "Didn't Jake tell you? Muscle Today's bumped him up to cover the international circuit. The Mr. Colossus, my friends. The biggest bodybuilding competition in the world. And I'M going to be a part of it! As of this morning, I am a member of the Worldwide Confederation!"

"That son of a bitch," Chase said under his breath.

Guntur folded his massive arms and regarded Hiro. "You tried, fox. I'll give you that. The underdog from a species of wimps who stands up to the big bad mean bear champ and wins. Makes for a great story, doesn't it? Too bad you're too late. Now if you and your small-time fanbois, here, will get out my way, I've got an exercise routine to plan."

Guntur lowered his arms and shoved the two reports aside hard enough that their shoes skidded. He strode for the exit to the locker rooms.

"My name is Hiro...LITTLE bear!"

Guntur froze. People around the two massive men started to pick up on the building anger. A loose circle formed. Conversations and camera flashes petered out. Guntur rounded on Hiro.

"By the time I take the stage at the Mr. Colossus, nobody's going to give a damn what your name is, fox."

Hiro marched over to him. "Oh yes they will. Because I'M going to be RIGHT there beside you!"

Guntur bellowed out a laugh. "To take the stage at the fucking Mr. Colossus, you need serious money, fox! A lot more than twenty-five grand! I'm flexing there to win for Muscle Today, thanks to Jake and my other friends at their corporate office. Who do YOU have?"

Hiro didn't have an answer to that. Guntur laughed again. "That's what I thought. Keep dreaming, fox. You'll never make it to the international stage!"

"How much is the entry fee?" Hiro demanded. "Come on, Guntur! How much?"

"One hundred thousand dollars."

Hiro gulped. It was like a prison sentence. That gulp was all the victory Guntur needed. It was all over the bear's face.

"See you in the audience, boys," Guntur sallied as he strode off to the locker rooms.

Hiro turned his stunned face to Alex and Chase. "One hundred grand? Entry fee?"

Chase shrugged. "That's the price as set by the rules of the WWCB."

"How much money do you have left from the semi-final winnings?" Alex asked Hiro.

"I spent a lot of it just to get here," Hiro admitted. "Maybe $2,000?"

"With what you got tonight, that's almost a third of the cost right there," Burt spoke up. He'd witnessed the whole exchange.

Alex came forward. "You've got a year to come up with $83,000, Hiro. Make it happen." Alex took out his wallet and handed Hiro two hundred dollar bills.

"I....thanks!" Hiro said.

From the ring of onlookers, three coyotes stepped forward.

"We planned to spend this on merchandise," Ricardo said. "We want you to have it." Ricard, Hal, and Tomas handed Hiro another three hundred.

More fans from the crowd started to open their wallets. Hiro's mouth slowly opened. Burt pulled off his baseball cap and Alex helped to pass it around. Twenties, fifties, hundreds - the hat filled until the bills started to flap out over the sides.

Burt took back his hat. "Come on, Hiro. Let's go home."