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Description
Gwen returned to her table at the teppan yaki restaurant and a few minutes later a different waitress came to take their order. No one else seemed to notice the switch. Gwen ordered an extra-large portion; half chicken and half steak. Tom also ordered an extra-large portion, which was unusual; his chicken and salmon.

A short time later the chef arrived at the table with his cart of ingredients and utensils. If he was trying to avoid starting at Gwen, he failed. She chose to let it pass. However, when one of the kids at the table reached out over the griddle and the chef was too distracted to notice, Gwen was forced to act. The chef brought his cleaver down in a high arc, not seeing the young girl’s arm. The father tried to stop him, but the chef was looking right at Gwen’s cleavage.

Gwen moved like lightning, placing her hand, palm up, protectively over the child’s arm. The cleaver hit her palm and everyone at the table winced. The chef looked to see why his chopping motion ended so abruptly. His eyes followed his arm to the cleaver to Gwen’s hand. The chef’s face showed his shock and horror; he feared he had cut off Gwen’s hand.

Gwen’s hand was completely unharmed, but her face was angry. She closed her fist, crushing the steel cleaver like paper. “If you can’t be more careful,” Gwen said in a frighteningly quiet voice, “you should find another line of work.”

The mother pulled the young girl back into her seat and mouthed a silent “thank you” to Gwen.

The chef apologized profusely and concentrated carefully on his work for the rest of the meal. Gwen methodically devoured her dinner. She noticed that pieces of salmon kept appearing on her plate throughout the meal. It dawned on her that Tom ordered an extra-large portion, just to be able to give some to her. Their eyes met and she knew he received her gratitude.

When the bill came, Tom reached for it. But the father across the table spoke up, “Please let us get your dinner. It’s the least we can do.” But the manager came over just then and apologized for the chef’s behavior and said the entire table’s dinner was on the house. The father left a tip for the waitress and they all headed out.

“Mommy, I want big muscles like her,” Gwen overheard the precocious 5-year-old declare as the left the restaurant.” She smiled.

“You want to walk for a little or head back home?” Tom asked. A thought occurred to Gwen.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Gwen agreed, “I left my car here in town this afternoon. It’s not too far from here, so let’s walk over and I can drive it home.” They walked about four blocks to Gwen’s car, only to see a tow truck backed up to it. Gwen ran towards them.

“Hey! Hey!” she shouted from across the street. “That’s my car.”

“Sorry, lady,” the tow truck driver answered unsympathetically. It was now dark and he didn’t see the owner of the voice. “It’s parked illegally.”

“It’s only been a few minutes.” Gwen protested as she arrived at her car.

“It’s been an hour and a….” the man’s voice trailed off as he now saw Gwen, illuminated by the streetlight.

“You’re not taking my car.” Gwen announced.

“Don’t try anything.” He warned, flashing a glimpse at a holstered pistol. He moved the lever on the back of his truck and the winch began lifting the front end of Gwen’s car.

“Last chance.” She warned him. He ignored her. Gwen placed her foot on top of the hitch connecting the winch to her car and pressed down. The winch groaned and let off smoke as it was instantly overwhelmed. There was a sound of metal bending as Gwen forced her car back to the ground.

The man pulled out his revolver and pointed it directly at Gwen. “Back away! Right now!” Gwen was out of patience and reached for the gun. He managed to get off one shot before Gwen ripped the gun out of his hand and crushed it in her hand. The man was wild-eyed and ran to the driver’s seat of his tow truck. As he did, Gwen anticipated his next move and snapped the steel chains connecting the truck to her car. The driver floored it and sped away.

Tom finally caught up to Gwen. “Are you ok? Was that a gun shot?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. The jerk shot at me but he missed.” Gwen answered.

“Uh, I don’t think he missed.” Tom said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s…uh…there’s….” Tom stuttered.

“Tom, what already?” Gwen demanded. Tom shrugged his shoulders and reached towards Gwen’s chest.

“What the –” Gwen said. If it were anyone else she’d have broken every bone in that hand, but she trusted Tom even as he reached right into her cleavage. But he seemed to be having a hard time getting his hand back out.

“Will you please try to relax?” He pleaded. Gwen took a deep breath and let her stress, or at least some of it, go. Tom yanked his hand out of her cleavage. “See? He didn’t miss.” Tom held up a squashed bullet that had wedged itself between Gwen’s breasts.

“Oh. Sorry,” Gwen apologized. “And thanks.” Gwen did not seem impressed that her chest could stop bullets, but Tom was.

“So, are you good to drive home?” Tom asked after an awkward silence.

Gwen looked around. “Actually, no. Dammit.” Gwen swore. “I didn’t bring my keys.” Tom thought for moment, trying to solve the problem.

“Well, uh…” he stammered once again and Gwen gave him another impatient look. “Is your car heavier than five tons?” Gwen looked puzzled for a moment, then understood.

“Oh, yeah.” She said. Then she reached down and lifted her car overhead. “Let me get you back to your car.’ Gwen shifted her hands so she was holding her car overhead in her left palm. She gently lifted Tom with her right and casually jogged back to the restaurant, depositing Tom next to his car in the parking lot. “You good?”

Tom stood there marveling at the ease with which she had performed that feat of strength and now waited for his response. He nodded.

“Cool. Race you home!” Gwen announced and sprinted off into the night. Tom drove himself home and found Gwen waiting for him.

Description
Gwen returned to her table at the teppan yaki restaurant and a few minutes later a different waitress came to take their order. No one else seemed to notice the switch. Gwen ordered an extra-large portion; half chicken and half steak. Tom also ordered an extra-large portion, which was unusual; his chicken and salmon.

A short time later the chef arrived at the table with his cart of ingredients and utensils. If he was trying to avoid starting at Gwen, he failed. She chose to let it pass. However, when one of the kids at the table reached out over the griddle and the chef was too distracted to notice, Gwen was forced to act. The chef brought his cleaver down in a high arc, not seeing the young girl’s arm. The father tried to stop him, but the chef was looking right at Gwen’s cleavage.

Gwen moved like lightning, placing her hand, palm up, protectively over the child’s arm. The cleaver hit her palm and everyone at the table winced. The chef looked to see why his chopping motion ended so abruptly. His eyes followed his arm to the cleaver to Gwen’s hand. The chef’s face showed his shock and horror; he feared he had cut off Gwen’s hand.

Gwen’s hand was completely unharmed, but her face was angry. She closed her fist, crushing the steel cleaver like paper. “If you can’t be more careful,” Gwen said in a frighteningly quiet voice, “you should find another line of work.”

The mother pulled the young girl back into her seat and mouthed a silent “thank you” to Gwen.

The chef apologized profusely and concentrated carefully on his work for the rest of the meal. Gwen methodically devoured her dinner. She noticed that pieces of salmon kept appearing on her plate throughout the meal. It dawned on her that Tom ordered an extra-large portion, just to be able to give some to her. Their eyes met and she knew he received her gratitude.

When the bill came, Tom reached for it. But the father across the table spoke up, “Please let us get your dinner. It’s the least we can do.” But the manager came over just then and apologized for the chef’s behavior and said the entire table’s dinner was on the house. The father left a tip for the waitress and they all headed out.

“Mommy, I want big muscles like her,” Gwen overheard the precocious 5-year-old declare as the left the restaurant.” She smiled.

“You want to walk for a little or head back home?” Tom asked. A thought occurred to Gwen.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Gwen agreed, “I left my car here in town this afternoon. It’s not too far from here, so let’s walk over and I can drive it home.” They walked about four blocks to Gwen’s car, only to see a tow truck backed up to it. Gwen ran towards them.

“Hey! Hey!” she shouted from across the street. “That’s my car.”

“Sorry, lady,” the tow truck driver answered unsympathetically. It was now dark and he didn’t see the owner of the voice. “It’s parked illegally.”

“It’s only been a few minutes.” Gwen protested as she arrived at her car.

“It’s been an hour and a….” the man’s voice trailed off as he now saw Gwen, illuminated by the streetlight.

“You’re not taking my car.” Gwen announced.

“Don’t try anything.” He warned, flashing a glimpse at a holstered pistol. He moved the lever on the back of his truck and the winch began lifting the front end of Gwen’s car.

“Last chance.” She warned him. He ignored her. Gwen placed her foot on top of the hitch connecting the winch to her car and pressed down. The winch groaned and let off smoke as it was instantly overwhelmed. There was a sound of metal bending as Gwen forced her car back to the ground.

The man pulled out his revolver and pointed it directly at Gwen. “Back away! Right now!” Gwen was out of patience and reached for the gun. He managed to get off one shot before Gwen ripped the gun out of his hand and crushed it in her hand. The man was wild-eyed and ran to the driver’s seat of his tow truck. As he did, Gwen anticipated his next move and snapped the steel chains connecting the truck to her car. The driver floored it and sped away.

Tom finally caught up to Gwen. “Are you ok? Was that a gun shot?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. The jerk shot at me but he missed.” Gwen answered.

“Uh, I don’t think he missed.” Tom said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s…uh…there’s….” Tom stuttered.

“Tom, what already?” Gwen demanded. Tom shrugged his shoulders and reached towards Gwen’s chest.

“What the –” Gwen said. If it were anyone else she’d have broken every bone in that hand, but she trusted Tom even as he reached right into her cleavage. But he seemed to be having a hard time getting his hand back out.

“Will you please try to relax?” He pleaded. Gwen took a deep breath and let her stress, or at least some of it, go. Tom yanked his hand out of her cleavage. “See? He didn’t miss.” Tom held up a squashed bullet that had wedged itself between Gwen’s breasts.

“Oh. Sorry,” Gwen apologized. “And thanks.” Gwen did not seem impressed that her chest could stop bullets, but Tom was.

“So, are you good to drive home?” Tom asked after an awkward silence.

Gwen looked around. “Actually, no. Dammit.” Gwen swore. “I didn’t bring my keys.” Tom thought for moment, trying to solve the problem.

“Well, uh…” he stammered once again and Gwen gave him another impatient look. “Is your car heavier than five tons?” Gwen looked puzzled for a moment, then understood.

“Oh, yeah.” She said. Then she reached down and lifted her car overhead. “Let me get you back to your car.’ Gwen shifted her hands so she was holding her car overhead in her left palm. She gently lifted Tom with her right and casually jogged back to the restaurant, depositing Tom next to his car in the parking lot. “You good?”

Tom stood there marveling at the ease with which she had performed that feat of strength and now waited for his response. He nodded.

“Cool. Race you home!” Gwen announced and sprinted off into the night. Tom drove himself home and found Gwen waiting for him.