Hall of Fame
I am so sick of eavesdropping on your conversations in cinema washrooms. You nerdy people berating the movie we just watched, ruining the magic and visual trickery for me. You, who are 5 foot 6 wearing thick black Club Monaco glasses claiming that you would have made better and more informed choices than Tobey Maguire or Brandon Routh just did. No, you wouldn’t. Despite what Enrique Inglesias might say, you could not be my hero. Even if you were a superhero, your life would hardly be better off than it is now. In fact it would probably be worse, because you would have an even harder time maintaining a social life, constantly making excuses for yourself that nobody really asked for.
“With great power comes great responsibility,” says Spider-Man. Have you ever noticed though, that he has pretty great power for avoiding any responsibility whatsoever? Whenever you were confronted with a task or a chore you would probably just climb over a wall or up to the roof and avoid doing it until it blew over. Also, you would use your web power to get that bag of barbecue chips barely out of reach to the couch faster, and, never needing to walk anywhere again, you would balloon several hundred pounds over the course of the next two months, at which point you would be forced into early retirement.
If you had the power to randomly turn into a ball of fire at will, I do not believe for one second you would use that power for good. You would probably duct tape a bunch of blunts to yourself and see how many you could light at once. It would take you several days to realize you even had the power of flight, at which point you would already be high as a kite. Hey-o. Then you would probably have the worst munchies of your life and would eat Bugles for the rest of eternity.
As Aquaman, you would not use your powers to save people, but instead you would just pretend you were an uncommonly good swimmer and win some Olympic medals and get some sponsorship deals. You would be the subject of much scepticism in the media and public eye, but even after you submitted to a drug test, they would not be able to prove anything. A few months later you would get arrested on drugs charges anyway, which would serve you right.
Copping feels. Constantly.
Don’t even pretend you are good at controlling your rage. I have seen you flip out over not getting the last piece of pizza or not getting to use the P1 controller when playing Mario Kart. When you did inevitably throw your little hissy fit, you’d be very bad at channeling that rage into anything useful. You would probably just make a mess that some poor hotel maid would have to clean up. I would get some enjoyment out of watching you sadly hitchhike, though.
If you had the body of a God , long blonde hair , and a comically oversized hammer, come on, you obviously have any career options other than being the entertainment at very sadistic bachelorette parties.
Where do I even begin here? Uh, if you had the ability to turn anything in your mind’s eye into a physical object, you would probably never read a newspaper ever again and fall completely out of touch with crime in the world. You would not even bother flipping on the TV because you could just imagine the actors recreating a scene for you especially. You’d also imagine scenes from the channel your parents never let you watch growing up, for days on end. In darkest day, in blackest night, no Cheetos would escape your sight. I am so tired of you.
Because you have no friends, you would split yourself into many people and do recreations of popular music videos with them. Like “Thriller”, or a tribute to the Chris Brown “Forever” wedding dance. Because you have no creativity whatsoever, you wouldn’t realize these have been done a million times before. Your version is not even one of the better ones. It would only get 100 hits which is really not that many. But because you have the ability to clone yourself, you would get a clone to go to work for you, and stay home watching your awesome video all day.
If you were Wolverine, those claws would ... rob you of the one guilty pleasure you have in life. No wonder you’re so mad all the time. You would form a support group with Edward Scissorhands, he is the only one who knows how you truly feel.