The car showroom

[watson2022]

Anna marched into the showroom, her boots clicking sharply on the polished marble floors. The crisp air inside the showroom did little to cool the simmering frustration that had been building since her phone call earlier that morning. She'd spent the better part of the day on the phone with the dealership's customer service, explaining in excruciating detail the problems with her new SUV—again. And each time, she'd been met with vague assurances and empty promises.

Now, here she was. The latest in a series of attempts to get someone to take her seriously. And she wasn't about to leave until she got answers.

The showroom was as sleek as ever, rows of shiny SUVs and sedans gleaming under the fluorescent lights. But none of it impressed her today. Her mind was on the issue that had been gnawing at her all week: her new, expensive SUV was falling apart.

The young salesman behind the counter, Archie, barely noticed her approach. He was hunched over a sleek tablet, tapping away with the intense focus of someone in his mid-twenties who was more concerned with his social media than with his job. His suit was perfectly tailored—shiny and immaculately pressed—but his slim, soccer-player build made him look more like he belonged at a high school prom than selling cars.

"Hey, there," he said, his voice as casual as his slouched posture, finally noticing her standing in front of the counter. "How can I help you today?"

Anna stood there for a moment, feeling the heat of her frustration threatening to boil over. She had been on the phone for an hour earlier, only to be brushed off with the same tired excuses. Now, standing face to face with him, she had no intention of tolerating the same nonsense.

"I'm here to talk about the issues with the SUV I bought last week," she said, her voice tight with barely contained irritation. "It's been making strange noises, the brakes are sticky, and there's a burning smell every time I park it. I've already called, but I got nowhere. And now, I want this sorted today."

Archie looked up at her with a smile that was too easy, almost rehearsed, like he was giving a performance. "Oh, sure, that's not good at all," he said, clearly not grasping the seriousness of the situation. "What seems to be the problem exactly?"

Anna clenched her jaw. "I just told you," she said, her voice edging up in frustration. "It's unsafe. The brakes feel like they might give out, and the grinding noise is getting worse. This isn't just a 'quirky' little issue. This is dangerous, and I need it fixed now."

Archie leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head as if her frustration was no big deal. His attitude was casual to the point of dismissive. "Look, ma'am, I hear you, but you've got to understand that these things happen sometimes. New vehicles can have minor issues when they're breaking in. It's probably just something small, you know?"

Anna stared at him, her fists tightening at her sides. Her patience was worn thin. "I'm not talking about 'breaking in,' Archie. I'm telling you there's a real problem. I don't want to hear about 'minor things.' This is serious. I've been driving long enough to know when something's wrong with a vehicle."

He shrugged, completely unfazed. "I'm sure it's fine, really. Like I said, these SUVs are built tough. They can handle a lot. Maybe you're just not used to the way it drives. Give it a few more days, and I'm sure it'll work itself out. No need to worry too much."

Anna felt her blood pressure rise. Again with the excuses. She wasn't some naïve customer. She had been more than patient, and now, she was losing what little composure she had left.

"No, Archie," she snapped, her voice growing louder now, her anger finally bubbling to the surface. "It's not just a 'driving style' thing. The SUV is faulty, and I've had enough of being told to 'wait it out.' If you won't take me seriously, I'll make someone else listen."

He just shrugged again, dismissing her. "It's really not a big deal, ma'am. Just take it easy, okay?"

Anna exhaled sharply, her hand rising instinctively to push her thick, dark hair back over her shoulder. It was a motion she often did when she was frustrated, but this time, something more happened.

As her fingers slid through her hair, her arm shifted. She flexed without even thinking, and as she casually brushed her hair back, her bicep bulged with sudden intensity, growing right before Archie's eyes. The muscle tightened, thickening, stretching the sleeve of her shirt as it expanded—first a subtle shift, and then an undeniable swell of raw power. Her 17-inch bicep swelled larger, harder, more defined, like a sculpted piece of marble coming to life. Veins snaked out along her forearm, pushing against her skin as the muscle grew and grew, an imposing display of strength.

Archie's smile faltered immediately. His eyes moved from her face to her arm, then back up to her face, as he tried—and failed—to hide the shock that spread across his features. His gaze darted between her hulking bicep and the cool, composed expression on her face. His own posture stiffened as he realized just how far out of his depth he was.

Anna didn't say a word. She let her arm rest casually by her side, still flexed, the bicep massive and imposing in a way he couldn't ignore.

And in that moment, Archie realized that he wasn't dealing with just any customer. She wasn't someone who could be dismissed with a casual shrug or an empty excuse. He could practically feel the weight of her presence bearing down on him. That muscle, that strength, wasn't just a physical thing—it was power. Real power. And it made everything he had ever known about dealing with customers seem trivial.

"I—uh..." He stumbled over his words, trying to regain his composure, but the words came out in a flurry of panic. "I'm really sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to brush you off. I just thought... I thought it was a minor thing. But I can see now that this is more serious. I'll—I'll call the manager right away and get someone to look at your SUV, okay? We'll get it fixed for you. No charge. I promise."

Anna didn't flinch. She didn't move. She simply kept her eyes locked on his, watching the tension build in his face, the realization settling in.

"Good," she said, her voice a calm, chilling contrast to the storm raging in Archie's mind. "I'm not leaving until it's taken care of."

He fumbled for his phone, dialing the manager's number with shaking fingers, his words tumbling over each other in a desperate attempt to fix the situation. "Yes, yes, we need someone to come and look at a customer's SUV right now. It's urgent."

Anna stood there, silent and composed, letting Archie struggle through his panic. The muscle in her arm remained flexed, a silent reminder of her strength and the way she commanded attention.

Minutes later, the manager arrived, looking flustered as he rushed over. "Ma'am, we're terribly sorry for the inconvenience," he said quickly, glancing between Anna's bicep and her calm face. "We'll take care of your SUV right away."

Anna nodded, her eyes icy. "See that you do," she said coolly, turning to walk toward the door. She could hear Archie still fumbling behind her, his voice low and unsteady as he spoke to the manager.

As she stepped outside, the fresh air hit her face, and she allowed herself a small breath of relief.

Behind her, Archie stood frozen, his mind racing. The image of her massive, flexed bicep was burned into his mind, and for the first time, he truly understood what it meant to be outmatched. He had thought he could handle anything. But Anna had made it clear—never underestimate someone who could crush a car door with one hand if they wanted to.

And now, Archie would never forget it.

[watson2022]

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[jeffbeans]

Love this!! Is it a one off chapter or will there be more of Anna?

[watson2022]

Anna had been on the road all morning, and the last thing she wanted to do was return to the dealership. But here she was again, the frustration from the past few days settling like a storm cloud above her head. She didn't even have to look at her phone to know that the latest round of phone calls to customer service had gotten her nowhere. And she knew—deep down—that she would get the same empty reassurances from the salespeople.
Still, she had to try. She wasn't leaving this time until something was actually done about her SUV.
As she entered the showroom, the sound of her boots clicking sharply against the polished marble floor seemed almost too loud in the otherwise silent space. The showroom was sleek, filled with new models that gleamed under the fluorescent lights, but today none of that impressed her. Not with her mind consumed by the series of problems plaguing her car, and certainly not after the countless attempts to explain her issue—only to be met with vague promises and brushed-off assurances.
She spotted Archie at the counter, leaning back in his chair, his gaze half-lidded, completely absorbed in whatever was on his tablet screen. He hadn't even noticed her yet, and that only made her annoyance flare up again.
"Archie," she said, her voice sharper than intended.
He looked up slowly, his smile lazy as he pushed himself up from his chair. "Oh, hey, you again. What's up this time?"
Anna took a deep breath, trying to keep herself composed. She'd been down this road before, but this time, she wasn't going to let him off easy. She planted her hands on the counter, leaning in slightly. "I'm here because my SUV is still not fixed," she said, her tone clipped, forcing the words past the lump of frustration building in her chest. "The brakes feel like they're going to fail any minute, there's a burning smell when I park it, and it's making strange noises. I've told you this before. And I'm not leaving until it's sorted out. No more excuses."
Archie's eyes flicked over her—briefly, his gaze lingering a moment longer than it should have before sliding away to something else. "Oh, right, the SUV," he said, his tone casual, unfazed. "Like I said before, it's probably just some minor thing. You know, new cars sometimes need a little breaking in. It's nothing serious."
Anna's chest tightened. She could already feel the familiar stir of irritation, but she held it in check. "No, Archie. It's not just a minor issue. The brakes are practically sticking, and the engine sounds like it's grinding. This isn't normal, and you know it."
He didn't respond right away, instead shrugging dismissively. "Look, ma'am, I get it. I know it can be frustrating, but cars—especially new ones—sometimes have quirks when they're breaking in. It's really not that big of a deal." He leaned back in his chair again, tapping lazily at his tablet, clearly more interested in whatever distraction was on the screen than in fixing her problem.
Anna's jaw clenched. She felt heat rising in her chest, not from embarrassment but from sheer annoyance. She had been so patient. She had explained everything clearly, calmly. But every time, it was the same: brushed off. Dismissed.
Her muscles tensed, a subtle flex that she barely noticed at first. She shifted her weight, adjusting her posture, and noticed how the blouse stretched across her shoulders as she did. There was something about the way Archie just wasn't taking her seriously that made her pulse quicken. The deep, simmering frustration began to leak into every part of her body, as if it were transforming itself into raw energy.
"Minor?" she repeated, her voice a little tighter now. "Do you not hear me, Archie? I've driven long enough to know when something's wrong with a vehicle. I'm telling you this is dangerous. You need to take me seriously."
Archie didn't even flinch. His eyes didn't leave the screen of his tablet, fingers continuing to tap, tap, tap. "Yeah, I'm sure it's fine," he said breezily. "Cars go through a lot, and sometimes you just gotta let them settle. Trust me, it'll clear up soon enough."
That was it. The last straw. Anna could feel her blood begin to rush to her muscles, a heat rising in her chest and spreading outward, pooling in her arms and shoulders. Her breaths deepened slightly, and the fabric of her blouse tightened as her body began to respond involuntarily to the rush of blood filling her muscles. It started slow, a subtle pressure, but within seconds, her biceps began to swell, their outlines becoming more defined beneath the fabric.
Anna's hands curled into fists as she tried to hold it back, tried to stay calm—but with every word from Archie, she could feel the pressure growing. Her biceps grew thicker, the sleeve of her blouse tightening across her upper arm as she flexed slightly, almost imperceptibly, to try to control the swelling. The veins along her forearms pushed against her skin, prominent and shifting, like a slow-moving river beneath her skin.
No more. This is enough.
"Don't you tell me to 'wait it out,' Archie," Anna said, her voice lower now, but it carried with it a warning. She leaned in closer, and this time, Archie had no choice but to meet her gaze. His eyes flicked from her face to her arms, which were no longer subtle in their bulge. The sleeve of her blouse creaked with the strain, the fabric stretching as the muscles beneath swelled with power.
"Seriously, you're going to keep pushing me away like this? You really don't want to make me angry," Anna said, her voice deadly calm, but with an edge that made Archie swallow nervously.
Her muscles surged, pushing against the limits of her shirt. The fabric of her blouse groaned, the seams starting to protest under the growing pressure. She wasn't just angry now. She was aware. Aware of the strength gathering in her body, aware of how it was building up with each passing moment of frustration.
Anna's patience snapped like a taut wire. Her eyes locked onto the car door sitting on the desk behind Archie—a small, metal reminder of what she was dealing with.
With a sharp inhale, she reached for it. Archie blinked, too slow to stop her as she grasped the door. Her muscles rippled visibly beneath her blouse, her biceps straining as she picked up the door, her fingers digging into the metal. As her hand closed around it, she squeezed, feeling the pressure in her arms intensifying, the blood flooding into them like a dam breaking.
The car door didn't stand a chance.
Anna twisted her wrists, and with ease, the metal began to buckle. It groaned in protest as she flexed her arm, her bicep swelling and hardening with unnatural strength. The door twisted and bent in her hands as though it were made of soft clay. Her arm flexed again, veins bulging under the strain as she applied more pressure, the door bending like paper in her grip.
She bent it in half, the metal folding with a loud crack that snapped through the air like thunder.
Archie froze, eyes wide, his mouth opening and closing but unable to form words. His tablet clattered to the floor, forgotten.
Anna's muscles throbbed with energy, and her chest heaved with the effort. The shirt—what was left of it—creaked and groaned, nearly giving out under the pressure. But she didn't care. She hurled the mangled remains of the car door across the room, watching it crash into the far wall, leaving a noticeable dent.
The showroom fell silent, save for the sound of her breathing.
"You don't want to make me angry, Archie," she said, her voice low and controlled. "You really don't."
Archie, still staring at the ruined door and her flexed, swelling muscles, could only nod, his face drained of color. He had no words left. No excuses.
Anna turned toward the door, letting her bicep relax, the muscles still firm and defined beneath her blouse. She walked out, her steps measured but filled with the weight of what had just happened.
Behind her, Archie and the manager stood frozen, both wide-eyed and speechless, still processing the raw display of power they had just witnessed. The showroom had just learned one thing—the last person they ever wanted to anger was Anna.
And for the first time, Anna felt a flicker of satisfaction.
Her problem would finally be fixed.