Superhero Diaries

One of my favorite fanboy hobbies is sitting around asking, “what would you do if you had so-and-so’s powers?” For the most part, answers consist of either exacting revenge on some people or very contrived methods of seeing girls naked. But if I was given superpowers, I’d be using them for EVERYTHING. So what would happen if I had the powers of…

Black Bolt

Black Bolt is king of the Inhumans, a group of super-powered humanoids who live on the moon. The Inhumans are a weird looking bunch, some of them misshapen, others with cryptic markings on their face. They also have a sense of cooperation that borders on hive-mindedness. Supposedly their powers come from their coming-of-age ceremony when every Inhuman is exposed to the “Terrigen Mists”, but now that I’ve been to Burning Man, I imagine the ceremony is the same as what would happen if I took a bunch of Ecstasy and planned a Bar Mitzvah.

Anyway, Black Bolt is king of the Semitic Ravers. He has the standard superpower extra value meal of flight, strength and nigh-invulnerability, along with some “energy-manipulation powers” which seem a lot like the same “powers” I get any time I wear a wool sweater and walk on carpet. But beyond that, his voice is a super-powered weapon. A whisper is enough to knock out the Hulk; with a shout he could level a planet.

Turns out this is great news for his wife, Medusa, because while Black Bolt may be king, since he can’t exactly go around making royal proclamations, he stands silently by while his wife orders everyone around on his behalf. But while Black Bolt has undergone “extensive mental training” to keep himself from yelling “son of a bitch!” every time he stubs his toe, I can’t shut up. So what would happen if I had his powers?

Day 1: Holy moley my hand is killing me. It’s one thing when you have to write down everything you want to say, but when you’re trying to do it with a sense of comedic timing, it’s a killer. I thought I’d be able to trust my girlfriend to know what I want and make my wishes clear. Then I heard her say, “Yeah, Z would love to watch Gilmore Girls,” and I’ve been writing notes ever since. Luckily, I think I’ll be able to save a lot of wear and tear on my wrists if I have a few pieces of paper readily at hand that say “Motherfucker”, “That’s what SHE said”, and “Gin and Tonic”.

Day 2: Okay, I hope no one was hoping on singing Karaoke in the East Village for a while, because that place is going to need some renovations. In my defense, I’d like to see ANYONE out there not join in on “More Than a Feeling.” Still… my bad.

Day 3: It took me three hours to catch a cab today. I don’t think it’s because I can’t yell “taxi!” I think it’s because I’m Black (Bolt). (Ed: Forgive me for that joke. I just couldn’t help myself.)

Day 4: I’m wondering if I should break up with my girlfriend. I don’t know how many times I’m going to have the opportunity to tell ladies, “I have a super-powered mouth.”

Day 5: Mother pus-bucket! I checked my phone bill today. I owe $228 in text messages. Then I come home and Wonder Woman gives me a Speak-N-Spell. I still don’t know if she’s trying to be funny. Whatever. I’m going to try and organize a game of Charades for the weekend. Something tells me I’m gonna kick ass.

Day 6: Given the situation, I think I oughta be exempt from the whole Safety/Doorknob Fart Game. It’s not my fault I’m gassy, but now I can barely move my arms. Next time someone punches me, I’m saying “safety”, and if anybody’s head explodes, that’s their problem.

Day 7: You know, all this time I’ve been griping about not being able to speak instead of reveling in the fact that I can fly. Then I took a cruise around Times Square, and people thought I was a flying mime act. There’s nothing like having hundreds of tourists shout at you, “Flying Man in a Box! No, Man in a Flying Box!” One guy thought I was David Blaine. I give up.

(One last note: Black Bolt’s “real name” is “Blackagar Boltagon”. I imagine that conversation went like this:

Black Bolt’s Dad: Hey, Babe! I thought of the coolest name for the boy!

Black Bolt’s Mom, Nine Months Pregnant: I thought we were going with my suggestion…
Dad: What, “Ethan”? Tell you what. If it looks like his super-power is an uncanny ability to get beat up at school, we’ll rename him Ethan. In the mean time, what do you think of “Black Bolt”. Cool, huh?
Mom: Sweet Mother of -…what the hell is the matter with you? Two weeks ago it was “Hagar the Horrible”. Last week it was “Voltron”. Now Black Bolt? I’m not giving birth to a race horse. What about Noah?
Dad: Noah’s are pricks. It’s a well-known fact. Now Hagar, that’s a cool name. Voltron is a cool name. Black Bolt is a seriously cool…hey, wait a minute…
Mom: Oh, no. I know that look.
Dad: BLACKAGAR BOLTAGON! HOLY SHIT, I AM A GENIUS!
Mom: No way. No.
Dad: Hey, raise your hand if you’re the king. Hm? No? Perhaps that’s because I’M THE KING, and guess what! Last time I checked, your womb is part of my kingdom!
Mom: I have to pee. Get out of my way.
Dad: That’s cause Prince Blackagar, Royal Badass is working your bladder like a speed bag! Go get ‘em, son!
Mom: Idiot.

Aaaaaaand SCENE!)