The following morning life continued at Baxter’s Park Avenue apartment. Manuela and Cheryl cooked Baxter his epic breakfast, and then Baxter tried to make love to Cheryl. Cheryl refused - saying it was too painful. Baxter then called Gordon and informed him that his commission from the Edison contracts would be hitting his account - and when it did he was to clear all of his outstanding debts. Gordon said that he had read about a mystery trader from P&P who had taken down some of the biggest European banks with his short on Edison, and he congratulated Baxter on the deal.

Baxter then left the apartment and bought a new, larger tracksuit and new, larger sneakers. Everything he had purchased before was now too small. Baxter was now a hulk of a man - he had grown nearly a foot in height and his body rippled with muscles. After Baxter returned from shopping he went to his mini-museum and watched an origins documentary about Mr. Amazing. The documentary mentioned nothing of Dick Rollins, or Dr. Janus, or the CIA. It was the story of an incredible orphan boy named Richard Ladd, who had become Mr. Amazing. Scientists (friendly scientists) and historians (friendly historians) in the documentary spoke of genetic mutations - and ancient legends such as Dionysus, Bellerophon, Perseus, Hercules, Hector, and Achilles. The scientists and historians spoke about how over thousands of generations, perhaps one individual had the genetic mutations to become what they described as a “metahuman”. The scientists and historians proposed that Richard Ladd had these same genetic mutations - and came from a long line of heroes who had appeared in human history.

Baxter watched the documentary, and then watched it again. Was he like Richard Ladd - like Hercules and Perseus - Baxter thought to himself. Was what was happening to Baxter the same as the transformation that Richard Ladd had undergone - before he became Mr. Amazing?

Cheryl opened the door and stepped in. Baxter was shirtless, and she stared at his torso - covered in hard muscles. She barely recognised Baxter McGill anymore. This man that sat on the couch was once Baxter McGill - but she didn’t know who this new man was.

‘Giancarlo called again’ - said Cheryl, breaking the silence.

Baxter paused the documentary and turned to Chery - ‘Who?’

‘Giancarlo Marazzi - we had dinner at their place in Soho. You won't remember it - I guess…’

‘Okay - what’s this guy want?’

‘You agreed to go to a retreat he organizes - that helps men with…’ - Cheryl stopped herself.

‘Men with what?’ - said Baxter, looking quizzical.

Cheryl raised her eyebrows and sighed - ‘Look, before whatever has happened to you - you were having problems downstairs. Giancarlo helps men, apparently, with those problems, by connecting to their primitive inner self’

‘Downstairs?’ - said Baxter, a smirk on his face.

‘Yes, downstairs. Before, you couldn’t get an erection…and Giancarlo was going to help you with that’

Baxter laughed - ‘What is he going to do, give me a blow job?’

Cheryl stared at Baxter.

‘Look baby - I don’t know about before, but I haven’t got any problems downstairs or upstairs - and if you want to give me a blow job I will prove it’

Cheryl continued to stare at Baxter. Who was he? What had happened to him? The Baxter McGill she knew would never have spoken as crudely as this man. Baxter McGill was educated and polite. He wore suits made in England - and would never dream of lounging around in a tracksuit. Baxter McGill was reserved and not coarse.

‘Anyways - Giancarlo has been calling because he needs the money for the retreat. He says he need you to drop it off, today’

Baxter shrugged - ‘And how much?’

‘$200,000’

‘Jesus fucking Christ - for that much money he better give me more than a fucking blow job!’

Cheryl didn’t react.

‘Okay, okay’ - said Baxter - ‘Just give me this Carlo’s info and I will drop the cash off, it might be fun!’

‘They are strange people, Baxter’ - said Cheryl, remembering the dinner party.

‘Strange in what way?’

‘Well, they don’t wear clothes - for one’ - said Cheryl, and Baxter raised an eyebrow

‘They?’

‘Yes, they. Giancarlo and his wife, Cinza’

‘Okay - and why don’t they wear clothes?’

‘Something to do with primitive man - our ancestors didn’t wear clothes or something like that...and don’t eat any bread if they offer it to you’

‘Bread?’ - said Baxter, looking confused.

‘It’s a long story - but just trust me on the bread thing’

Baxter shrugged, and Cheryl went to the kitchen and returned with Giancarlo’s address. Baxter looked at the piece of paper, and then pressed play on the documentary. Cheryl continued to watch him from the doorframe, and then she turned and left him.

Later that morning Gordon excitedly called and let Baxter know his commission had hit his account. Gordon tried to get Baxter to commit to a meeting to discuss investments, but Baxter was disinterested and said he would be in contact. Baxter had a shower and then dressed in his new tracksuit and sneakers and then left the apartment.

After leaving the apartment Baxter found somewhere to eat, and then headed to his bank to make a cash withdrawal. The bank manager was called, and he smiled and shook Baxter’s hand and suggested that they have lunch, and discuss some investment opportunities for the $100 million (after tax) that had just been deposited in Baxter’s account. The bank manager told Baxter it was a great honor to have him bank with them - and if there was anything he could do to please let him know immediately. Baxter thanked him, and said he would be in contact if anything came up. Baxter then headed south along 5th Avenue and down to Soho.

***

‘A Baxter McGill for Mr. Marazzi’ - said the doorman of the converted warehouse building the Marazzis live in into a phone.

The doorman smiled and nodded and thanked the person on the phone, and then directed Baxter to the sixth floor. Baxter rode the elevator to the sixth floor, and then walked along the industrial corridor until he came to the Marazzi’s apartment. Baxter knocked on the heavy metal sliding door, and then waited.

The door was answered by Cinza Marazzi - who was wearing a black rob. She stood and stared at Baxter, a confused look on her face - ‘Baxter McGill?’

‘Yeah - you must be Cinza’ - said Baxter, smiling at the beautiful woman who stood before him.

‘Baxter - you look so different. I could hardly recognise you. You are so much bigger and so much taller!’ - said Cinza in a dramatic voice.

Baxter shrugged - ‘Is Carlo here - I have some money for him, for some retreat deal’

‘Come Baxter - come inside!’ - insisted Cinza and she took Baxter’s arm and pulled him into the apartment.

Baxter allowed Cinza to pull him into the vast warehouse apartment, and Cinza slid the door shut and she strode ahead of him. She stopped by the round wooden table in the middle of the room, and picked up a packet of cigarettes and placed one in a gold cigarette holder and lit it - blowing smoke out of her nostrils and smiling at Baxter - ‘What happened to you, Baxter - how you get so big and strong so quick?’

Baxter walked around the room, and stared at the giant portrait of Giancarlo on the wall - ‘Is that Carlo - your husband?’

Cinza took a drag on her cigarette - ‘So it is true, you have lost your memory’

‘I guess’ - said Baxter, walking around the room - ‘Where is he, Carlo?’

Cinza took another drag on her cigarette, and blew smoke from her nostrils - ‘Giancarlo is out, at a book signing in midtown - it is just me and you here, Baxter’

Baxter pulled the $200,000 from his jacket pocket, and placed it on the table - ‘Cheryl told me you guys don’t wear any clothes’

Cinza stubbed out her cigarette in an ashtray on the table, and then pulled the tie around the middle of her robe. She pulled the robe off and set in on a chair back. She stood naked in front of Baxter, who continued to walk around the apartment.

‘I was going to say smoking is bad for your chest - but it doesn’t seem to have affected yours, Cinza’ - said Baxter, smiling and admiring Cinza’s large breasts.

‘I only smoke before sex, Baxter’ - said Cinza, and she placed another cigarette in the gold cigarette holder and lit it, and smiling.

‘Interesting’ - said Baxter - ‘So, should I also take my clothes off - would that be the polite thing to do?’

Cinza took a puff on her cigarette, and shrugged - ‘Is that what you want, Baxter - to be polite?’

Baxter stopped walking around, and unzipped the front of his tracksuit. He pulled it off and his physique was exposed. Baxter pulled off his sneakers, and then pulled down the tracksuit pants and he stood naked - his muscles twitching. Cinza took another drag on her cigarette and then walked over to where Baxter was standing - she placed a hand on Baxter’s stomach, and moved it slowly up across his chest, stopping to take one of his nipples in her fingers that she pinched. Baxter looked down at her, his penis growing harder. Cinza’s hand moved down across Baxter’s body, and then she held his growing penis in her hand. She looked at Baxter as she did this, taking a drag on her cigarette with her other hand.

‘Cheryl told me that you had a problem with your penis, Baxter’ - said Cinza, gripping his penis harder.

‘Yeah - apparently I used to have a problem with it’

‘You don’t seem to have a problem now’ - purred Cinza, who was gripping harder, and began massaging it.

Baxter smiled - ‘Oh but I do have a problem!’

‘And what problem is this?’ - said Cinza, taking a drag on her cigarette as she worked Baxter’s penis with her other hand.

‘Finding a pussy that can handle being fucked by me!’ - said Baxter, who reached around behind Cinza and he grabbed her ass roughly.

Cinza stubbed out the cigarette, and put an arm around Baxter and pulled him tight - ‘My pussy can handle a lot!’

‘We will see’ - said Baxter, smiling at Cinza and he pulled her around and bent her over the table.

***

Forty minutes later Baxter was in the kitchen, opening cupboards and rummaging through the fridge looking for something to eat. Cinza was laying on the floor dripping with sweat and smoking - a dazed expression on her face.

‘What you got to eat here?’ - shouted Baxter from the kitchen.

Cinza tried to reply - but she didn’t have the energy.

Baxter found a loaf of bread, freshly baked. He sniffed it, and remembered what Cheryl had said about not eating any bread if he was offered. He shrugged, and cut the loaf into slices, and then poured olive oil and balsamic vinegar over the slices and headed back to the main room. He placed the bread by the couch, and then walked over to Cinza who he picked up and carried over to the seating area.

Baxter sat opposite Cinza, and began devouring the slices of bread. Cinza stared at him - her hair a scraggly, jumbled mess - and her eye make-up running down her face. Cinza looked wrecked. She managed to stub out her cigarette, and then lit another one. Baxter smiled and winked at her - ‘How’s that pussy of yours feeling?’

‘I think…’ - said Cinza, weakly - ‘I think it is broken!’

Baxter laughed - ‘Hey, listen. If you want to do this again, just let me know. I am down to fuck literally all the time!’

‘Okay…I let you know’ - said Cinza, as she took a drag on her cigarette.

Baxter finished the bread slices and then smiled at Cinza - ‘Alright, I am going to head off’

‘Okay…’ - said Cinza.

‘That bread is fucking delicous, by the way. It's got a real tangy taste to it!’

‘Grazie…’ - said Cinza.

Baxter stood and got dressed. He kissed Cinza on the forehead and then left. Baxter spent the rest of the day drinking beer and eating in a bar in Hell's Kitchen.