In the rolling hills of the countryside, a place where the fields stretched like golden seas under the vast blue sky, there lived a girl named Clarabella. Clara for short, but there was nothing short nor small about this lass. Now, Clara wasn't just any ol' gal. She was the epitome of bucolic beauty, she was as beautiful as a rose in full bloom, her laughter ringing like the sweetest melody across them meadows. But don't let her pretty face fool ya; there was nothing short nor small about her, no sirree.
For Clara hailed from a family of sturdy folk, where the days were spent toiling under the unforgiving sun, tending to the land that had been with their kin for generations. Times were tough, tougher than a two-dollar steak, and every penny counted. That's why, on this particular day, Clara found herself at the heart of the annual county fair, behind a quaint little kissing booth.
Why, you might ask? Well, her family's farm was barely keeping its head above water, what with all the equipment falling apart faster than a house of cards in a tornado. And the equipment that did work was as old and cantankerous as a mule with a thorn in its hoof. Why, their truck was so stubborn, you had to give it a good shove just to get it going. And as for their tractor and plow? Well, they were as useful as a screen door on a submarine.
And for those living on a farm, it don’t get much worse, than when your tractor gone done and broke down. So, with their family barely keeping their heads above water, and what with their not so trusty tractor and plow gone belly up, they were in for some hard times. So, what's a gal to do? Well, Clara rolled up her sleeves and decided to do the plowin' herself. Yep, you heard that right. She hitched herself up to that plow like a one-woman team of mules and got to work. Now, I ain't gonna lie to ya, folks. It was tough as nails at first. But Clara, she's made of sterner stuff than most. She ain’t fearful of breakin’ a nail nor getting her hands dirty. Before long, she was pullin' that plow like it was a walk in the park.
It was hard work pulling that plow, feeding all the animals, lifting all the bags of feed, bales of hay, and cutting and chopping all the wood. But, hard times necessitated hard work, and all that hard work forged an iron will and a hardbody for Clara.
And oh, what a sight she was to behold! Her arms were thick like mighty oaks, her shoulders brawny and broad and not to mention strong, and her legs... well, let's just say as muscular as they were, and they were undoubtedly the most muscular and titanic thighs and gargantuan gams as any man would ever see, they were also undeniably the most beautiful and sleekest and sculpted legs too. It is said that her legs could make a train stop on its tracks... They could make a grown man weak in the knees... Let's just say she could make a preacher break a sweat on a Sunday morning... Whatever euphemism or colloquialism they did say about Clara’s beautiful buff legs, and you bet your bottom dollar that they said a lot of things about them, but with her sitting behind that kissing both, sadly no man was able to see those pretty little legs of hers... Make that not so little and quite muscular, legs of hers.
Yes, dressed in a pretty sundress that hugged her curves in all the right places, Clara was a vision of country charm and undeniable allure, and untold strength. Now, you might think a pretty thing like Clara would be content with fluttering her eyelashes and puckering her lips for a coin or two. But no, not Clara...
Now, on this fateful day at the fair, Clara decided to put her strength to good use. Instead of doling out kisses like candy, she challenged the boys to a little game of arm-wrestling. You see there was a catch, if they wanted a smooch from the prettiest gal in the county, they had to best her in a match of strength.
And Clara had a not-so-secret weapon tucked up her sleeves – her great big bulky and bulging biceps! Biceps bigger than all the boys’ biceps. Still, a little bit of muscle... Not that there was anything little about her muscles, did little to deter those amorous boys. And let me tell you, the line stretched longer than a summer day. Boys of all shapes and sizes clamored for a chance to prove their mettle against Clara. But one by one, they fell like leaves in the autumn breeze, their efforts no match for the might of our fair country girl.
Clara may have had a smile as sweet as honey, but she had a grip like a vice. Not a single lad could best Clara in the test of strength, and these were all strong and sturdy young lads, the salt of the earth, with broad shoulders and sturdy backs... Just not as broad shouldered as Clara nor as sturdy as well. They fell to her mighty arm, their faces flushed with exertion and admiration alike. And as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, Clara stood triumphant, the undisputed queen of the county fair.
And while most of the boys grumbled that it was no fair that she was not only so pretty but also pretty dang strong! Despite their grumblings, they still got a kiss even though they all lost handedly. By that I mean, hands down they easily lost to Clara and her Mighty Female Muscles, and it was their hands that were slammed down onto the wooden counter of that kissing booth.
Yes, each and every boy still got a kiss... They got to kiss Clara’s great big, boulder of a bicep. And they say the only thing bigger than Clara’s smile, is those great big beautiful biceps of hers. So every boy walked away from that kissing booth, maybe with a bit of a sore shoulder, and a bruised ego, but also a great big smile of their own, as they got to kiss the most beautiful and most muscular girl in the entire county.
On that day, she proved that she wasn't just the prettiest girl in the county, or the strongest – for she proved she was also stronger than all the boys put together. Yes sirree, She’s a country rose and country strong!
And though the fair may come and go, the legend of Clarabella, the country girl with the heart of gold and muscles of iron, would only grow. Just like how her muscles would grow even bigger over the next few years... So big that in the ensuing years the boys couldn’t wait to see just how big she had grown over the past year, and so big that she would even start letting the boys use both of their arms against just one of hers. And yet, she would still win, and it would never even be close, not by a country mile.
