Peter looked up suddenly at Eric, who was smirking slightly. 

"You do?" said Peter in amazement as Eric threw a hand forward, beckoning him into his house. Peter gladly followed. 

"Yep," said Eric blithely. They kicked their shoes off as Eric, proud that he could help, led Peter into the basement. 

"Hey, Alex!" Eric shouted. "I need to talk to you!" Suddenly, an enormous object moved; it was Alex, whom Peter had (until recently...) thought a piece of scrubby furniture. Alex, a virile, broad-shouldered teenager with short brown hair tilted his head ever do slightly at the sight of Peter. 

"We need your help," said Peter. "There's this kid at school who arranged a fight with me on Monday afternoon. I'm not very strong, I'n sure you've noticed." Alex scrutinized the lanky, yet gaunt Peter with a pitiful expression. "Yep," he said finally. "You'll need loads. C'mere." He gestured at both Peter and Eric. 

"Usually, when people have basements, they store food in it, but I am a local wrestler and thus," he started to imitate a feminine voice, one which could only be his mother, though he failed greatly at this impersonation. " 'You're so strong, honey! You need your own space to work out! Otherwise, that muscle will convert into chub. Hee hee!' Seriously, Mum!"

Both Eric and Peter chuckled at this, as Alex batted his eyelashes daintily. He drew weights out from a closet, ranging from 1 lb. to 50 lb. 

"Try pulling the first few."

Peter lifted the first effortlessly, then the next almost as easily, and the next few, when he reached ten pounds. "How come he can hold ten pounds so far?" inquired Eric in amazement. Alex replied, "When you work your way up sequentially, not instantaneously, you'll slowly become more and more accustomed to the heftiness of the dumbbells, increasing only by a pound each time."

"Oh." 

After that, Peter went on to several stretches that were useful in wrestling and injuring. 

Finally, after two hours, Peter was taught when, how, why, and where to injure a thug or opponent, how to judo-wrestle, and how to end the sport with a witty comment and cocky air. 

"Nobody will dare cross you again!" said Alex legitimately. 

Eric's hair was scrubbed quickly by Alex, who was smiling mischievously. Eric smiled back at him, punching him in the stomach just so. 

"Hope that helps you, squirt," said Alex finally as Peter left for the door. "Thanks," he said gleefully. "It does. You're really the benefit of the doubt..." Alex smiled and boasted, "I've heard that before."