Part 3: Giraffe & The Gains

Part 3: The Giraffe and the Gains

Over the next few weeks, Jeff's life settled into a whole new rhythm.

Every morning began the same way: slipping into a giant giraffe costume. Yes, he was that guy—the one dressed as Geoffrey the Giraffe at the local Toys R Us. The kids adored him, and honestly, it wasn't the worst job in the world... even if the costume felt like a portable sauna.

But it was after work that the real transformation began.

Every evening, Jeff headed to the gym, earbuds in, ready for another lesson from Brosgaeus, whose booming voice echoed through his car's stereo.

"Alright, Jeff," Brosgaeus barked in his gruff, no-nonsense tone. "Today's deadlift day. And if I see one rounded back, I swear I'll... well... I'll think of something intimidating later."

Jeff chuckled.

Despite the absurdity of taking fitness advice from a talking phone mount, he couldn't argue with the results.

Week after week, Brosgaeus corrected every rep, every stance, every tiny mistake. Jeff's form improved, the weights got heavier, and something even more important started to change.

For the first time in his life...

Jeff actually felt strong.

Not just physically.

Mentally.

Of course, nothing involving Brosgaeus stayed peaceful for long.

---

One evening, after an especially brutal workout, Jeff collapsed into the driver's seat with an exhausted sigh.

Before he could even start the engine, Brosgaeus spoke.

"Hey, Jeff."

"Yeah?"

"We need to talk."

Jeff frowned.

"...That sentence has never been followed by anything good."

"Your diet."

Jeff groaned immediately.

"Oh, come on."

"You cannot continue eating like a raccoon that won the lottery."

Jeff blinked.

"...What?"

"Cookies. Chips. Candy bars. Whatever mysterious gas station burrito you inhaled yesterday."

"I don't eat that bad."

"Oh really?" Brosgaeus replied.

"What'd you have for lunch?"

Jeff hesitated.

"...A sandwich."

"Go on."

"..."

"It had..."

"...extra cheese."

"And?"

"...three slices of bacon."

"And?"

"...mayo."

"On?"

"...both sides."

Brosgaeus let the silence hang dramatically.

Jeff sighed.

"...There were fries."

"Anything else?"

"...A soda."

Brosgaeus made the electronic equivalent of a disappointed grunt.

"Jeff... that's not lunch."

"Then what is it?"

"A cry for help."

Jeff couldn't help laughing.

"Alright, alright. I get it."

"I'll eat better."

"Good," Brosgaeus said.

"Because if I have to watch you sabotage another workout with junk food, I may actually short-circuit out of pure disappointment."

---

So Jeff made changes.

He packed healthier lunches.

He cut back on snacks.

He even started drinking those bright green smoothies everyone at the gym seemed obsessed with.

They tasted like someone had blended a lawn.

But if it helped get Brosgaeus back into a human body...

It was worth it.

---

Then came the day Jeff decided to push himself.

After work—

Still wearing the full giraffe costume—

He marched straight into the gym.

The room went silent.

Heads turned.

People openly stared.

One guy slowly removed an earbud.

Jeff didn't care.

He was on a mission.

He tapped his Bluetooth earpiece.

"Alright, Brosgaeus."

"I'm going for a new personal best."

"Good," Brosgaeus replied.

"But remember."

"Form first."

"Leave your ego in the parking lot."

Jeff approached the bench press and loaded more weight than he'd ever attempted before.

He lay back.

Wrapped his hands around the bar.

Took one deep breath.

And lifted.

The weight fought him every inch of the way.

"Drive with your legs."

"Keep your wrists straight."

"Control it."

"Now push!"

Jeff gritted his teeth.

The bar kept moving.

Slowly.

Painfully.

Finally...

Lockout.

"I DID IT!"

His shout echoed across the gym.

For one brief moment...

Everyone simply stared at the giant giraffe that had just hit a personal record.

Then the applause started.

People cheered.

Someone even whistled.

Jeff sat up laughing so hard he almost forgot to rerack the weight.

He tapped his earpiece.

"Did you see that?"

"We did it!"

There was a brief pause.

Then Brosgaeus answered.

"...Not bad."

Jeff grinned.

"...Not bad at all."

"You're finally starting to look like someone who belongs in a gym."

Jeff smiled even wider.

Then Brosgaeus continued.

"...Your squats still need work."

Jeff rolled his eyes.

"There it is."

"I was wondering how long it'd take."

---

On the drive home, Jeff couldn't stop smiling.

Maybe Brosgaeus wasn't just an angry gym fanatic.

Sure...

He yelled.

He insulted.

He had the emotional warmth of uncooked oatmeal.

But beneath all of that...

He genuinely wanted Jeff to succeed.

And somewhere along the way...

Jeff realized he wasn't just getting stronger.

He'd made a friend.

As impossible as that sounded.

---

Brosgaeus was having thoughts of his own.

For the first time since the curse...

He wondered if strength wasn't measured by how much weight someone could lift.

Maybe...

Just maybe...

It had something to do with helping someone else become stronger.

He immediately hated how sentimental that sounded.

Fortunately...

He had a more pressing concern.

As they pulled into Jeff's driveway, Brosgaeus sighed.

"One question."

"Yeah?"

"...How do you get sweat stains out of a giraffe costume?"

Jeff burst into laughter.

To be continued...