The Big Oops

The walkout to the stage was much more different than the last time they went out. The finalists were able to peruse the stage before the event began to get comfortable and allow for the crew to perfect everything before the broadcast.

Stagehands sprinted between the curtains, some dragging cables while others were polishing the reflective floor until it gleamed like black glass. The crowd beyond the curtains were already noisy, their excitement leaking through as they got comfortable from getting food and whatnot. Above it all, even more people were setting up cameras and flood lights to really set the stage when they rolled the curtains back.

Contestants milled around in half-poses and nervous stretches. Bart’s bronzed back caught a distant glow and reflected off of him like a beam. He was standing a foot shorter than the others but ten times more confident. Joren fidgeted in his spot while Gus poked at his arm oil suspiciously.

“Feels like I’m wrapped in bacon grease,” Gus muttered. “You sure this helps?”

Bart glanced over, dead serious. “You doubt'n me, boy?”

A camera operator swept by, followed by a woman in a headset barking orders about timing. “Alright people! We go live in two minutes! Contestants line up in your spot and make sure you’re visible for the opening pan!”

The crowd’s noise rose another notch as the side curtains peeled open just enough for the audience to see movement backstage, a wave of cheers going up just from the silhouettes. Finally, it was time.

The announcer’s voice echoed from beyond the curtain.

“Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves… for the grand finals!”

The people went nuts, cheers erupting.

A stagehands gave the signal for the curtains to begin parting.

The Titaness stood near the center, flexing her arms in pose reminiscent of a hieroglyph wall relief, one up and the other down. Triple Impact were posed as usual with the two behind the flexing guy, both pointing as they curved their bodies in a fusion pose, just without touching. Radiant Randy spun in slow circles like a ballerina. It seemed each person had their own idea of how to show off, which really put the head woman in a tizzy.

The cameras swept from left to right, catching every glimmer of oil and every sculpted silhouette in perfect high-definition. Stage lights pulsed, syncing with the loud music that filled the arena of the opening ceremony.

Craig froze when the camera hit him. His forced smile looked seconds away from breaking. He lifted both arms uncertainly, his drawn on abs rippling a little, and somehow the audience screamed even louder.

From her seat near the front, Willow covered her mouth to hide her laugh. “Oh gods,” she whispered. “That poor man is going to die out there. How did he even make it to finals?”

Joren and Gus stood beside him, both trying to match the poise of professionals. Joren held still, eyes forward, chest tight. Gus was already sweating through the bronze finish, which didn’t help his looks at all.

In a broadcast building, the commentators were losing their minds. “Look at that lineup, folks! This is shaping up to be the most unpredictable finals in recent memory!”

“Absolutely, Nars. We’ve got a fascinating mix tonight. The Titaness, last year’s runner-up, is looking determined to take first this year. Triple Impact is still somehow a single entry despite technically being three people. Many of them are quite familiar if you followed last year’s finals.”

“That’s right,” Trant said. “And if you look closely, Radiant Randy’s already starting his pre-competition rotation. He’s been spinning for forty-five seconds now and I don’t think he plans to stop.”

“And there’s Craig, our unexpected finalist." Nars added, the camera panning to Craig. "Truly a Cinderella story. You know, I heard in an interview earlier that he didn't even intend on joining this competition, he just stumbled into it as he was looking for a different competition going on."

"Really? It's remarkable that he made it into the finals with his physique, but you have to admit, that showing from him in his 15 seconds was impressive." Trant retorted.

“Absolutely. You could see the raw confusion in his eyes on stage,” Nars said, tone completely serious. “It’s that kind of energy that can’t be trained, Trant, it’s primal.”

Trant chuckled. “Primal’s one word for it. I think his survival instinct alone carried him through round one. Let's see how does in the finals showcase, maybe Cinderella will dazzle us once again at the biggest ball of the bodybuilding world.”

The camera shifted to Birdman, to which they commented on briefly, and moved on.

“And there he is,” Nars said softly. “The Cheesemonger of Gloryhollow. The man who moved an entire audience to tears.”

Trant exhaled. “Still can’t believe he got a perfect score. I’ve seen some impressive showings over the past few years, but never a perfect score.”

“Rico certainly didn’t take it well,” Nars added as the camera caught a flash of the reigning champion’s glare. “The man’s practically vibrating with rage.”

“Yeah,” Trant said. “If looks could kill, we’d be down to nine contestants right now. Too bad for him.”

With that, round one had begun.

The Titaness stepped out first, her bronze skin gleaming and body dazzling the crowd. She raised both arms in perfect balance, her form mirrored to absolute precision. When she twisted into her stance, the crowd’s roar was simply awestruck. It looked like she made no mistakes to Joren, but he wasn't as well versed in the knowhow.

Triple Impact followed next, the main man throwing his arms out as the two behind him mimicked his movement. “POW! POP! ZAP!” the two behind shouted in sync. It shouldn’t have worked, but somehow it did. The rhythm, the choreography, the sheer absurd commitment, all of it caused the audience laugh and cheer.

Radiant Randy strutted forward next. With every flex, clouds of glitter shook loose, swirling around him in the spotlights like a living galaxy. His movements were clean but theatrical, almost like an interpretive dance. When he spun at the end and threw both arms skyward, the audience roared like he’d just pulled off a magic trick.

Then came Gus. He took a steadying breath and walked out into the light for his turn to pose. The spotlight hit, and his bronze finish gleamed brighter than expected. He attempted to plant his feet, but the floor betrayed him. All of that sweat combined with the waxed floors created a very big problem for Gus.

His foot skidded on the polished surface, and before anyone could react, he fell face first. The crowd let out a unified “Ooooh.”

One guy even yelled "Wipeout!"

"Ooooh, poor Gus," Willow said mostly to herself, now side by side with a new buddy she befriended in the line to the bathroom. "That's gotta be bad, right?"

The lady next to her just nodded her head and drank her lemonade.

Gus froze, face red, and then tried to recover by flexing harder than he should have. His recovery pose ended up looking like a crab imitation, and even Joren could tell that would knock him out of this round. The audience clapped politely, some laughing, others sympathetic.

Next up was Joren. The heat lights hit him again, but he kept his focus and didn't panic this time. He mirrored his arms with precision, careful to maintain even tension between each side of his body. He created a few orbs to orbit around him once again, the crowd murmuring with surprise. The glow reflected faintly off the polished floor, painting the air with shimmers far better than Radiant Randy.

That should secure him at least the next stage, though he wasn't sure what importance that would have considering Bart was somehow leagues more prepared and toned for this.

A few more went through the motions, finally moving to the last two.

Then came Bart.

The hall dimmed slightly as the spotlights adjusted. He stepped forward like he owned the stage itself, his chin high and eyes full with confidence. He lifted both arms at once, chest expanding like a gorilla, his shoulders moving in perfect mirrored motion. It was so precise it looked perfect.

The crowd went silent, not even sure how to respond, then the cheers came all at once. Someone in the back shouted, “It’s him! It’s really him!”

Even the judges had stopped writing.

Rico followed immediately after, his every movement sharp and mechanical, really fitting his inventor persona. The contrast was striking: where Bart’s perfection felt almost divine, Rico’s was like a human rebelling against the gods. He smiled wide and confident, knowing he had it in the bag.

When he finished, the two men briefly locked eyes.

The crowd picked up on it instantly, erupting. They knew this rivalry wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

Then the lights dimmed, and the music softened to a low thrum. The announcer’s voice boomed out through the speakers. “Round one: Symmetry… has concluded!”

A moment’s silence passed as the judges scribbled and conferred.

Finally, the Host flared to life after speaking with the judges on their rulings. "The first three eliminated are: Birdman, Porcelain Prince, and Radiant Randy. Better luck next year, folks."

The three names echoed across the stage, sealing the three's fates.

Birdman squawked audibly in protest, clearly unhappy about how three people counted as one. Gus dropped head down and began laughing at himself, giving the crowd a wave embarrassment written across his face, his bronze coating flaking from the sweat. Radiant Randy, meanwhile, blew kisses as he exited, each one sending off a puff of glitter that lingered in the air like a farewell mess for the cleanup crew.

The audience applauded, getting even more pumped at the stage two finalists.

That left seven, Joren and Bart included.

The lights pulsed, and the music rose with new intensity.

The Host's voice trilled out once again, kicking off the next stage. “We will begin round two: Side Profile. Contestants, get ready!”