Doc Civil Defeats The End of Darkness

Doc Civil Battles The End of Darkness

Any other man would have yielded under the agony. But any other man would not have learned total bodily control from the Temple of Fahr’awayz’wizer! Using every gram of the training he’d absorbed from the mountain-top mystics, Doc Civil’s bronzed body endured in perfect horizontality.

His superior hero brain had mastered their life’s wisdom in a mere fortnight. Luckily most of that wisdom was about detachment from care and freedom from ego, so they weren’t too upset, though one had angrily stomped down the mountain swearing to prove that not all foreigners were so lotus-stomping smart, and was now a multimillionaire guru in Hollywood.

That had been ten years ago, but the training remained. His every joint was angled to preserve maximum relaxation. His toned muscles maintained perfect poise. His whole body aligned to resist the ever expanding sphere of agony. Doc flexed his rippling muscles, his advanced post-Sandow studies enabling him to take more exercise while pinned in place than most mortals could if swimming through an ocean of protein shakes.

Every morning he practiced this two-hour sequence of total muscular control, allowing him to extend that single warm moment of waking up over one hundred and twenty perfect minutes. Then, having practiced it, he immediately used it, extending the blissful comfort to a full sixth of every day.

Through it all, his bladder was as unto a thing of iron, installed in a submarine and built to withstand the pressures of the Marianas trench without the least discomfort.

And so Doc Civil defeated the end of darkness. The sun marched boldly into a new day without disturbing him even once. At the very instant of noon he leapt from the bed, masterful muscular control forward-flipping him from the sumptuous mattress into raptor-skin flip-flops, in which he walked across to the marbled chamber where he would triumph over the The Ammoniac Rapids, before descending the oaken staircase to develop The Potion of Arabica.

He’d heard his ancestor had used his training and fortune to escape death around the world. But that seemed like a lot of trouble.

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