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This Week In Weird Twitter, Volume 64

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The alarm erupts, emitting beeps forged in the crucible of Hell, designed to rouse even the deepest of sleepers from their torpor. A hand reaches out and delivers a blow to the button atop the clock. Nine minutes later, the scene is repeated. Nine minutes later, again. Nine minutes later, the hand moves from the button to the slider and turns the alarm to the off position.

Covers thrown back, feet swing to the floor, the body to which they’re attached forgetting what was thrown there the previous night. It’s too late, though. The soft embellishments fulfill their duty, sending the man who occupies that body tumbling headfirst into a wall. Then, all is again black.

He awakes, his head swimming as he tries to make sense of his situation. It’s all murky, except for one thing. He knows he must stand up and start a project with one goal: world domination. So he lurches to the shower to freshen up and get on with things.

He would be a fierce ally in the fight against decorative pillows.

Some people think Hulk was transformed by gamma radiation, but he had another secret weapon in his arsenal.

He also relies on some physical triggers.

It’s not all fisticuffs and rage, though. Being a superhero also includes tender moments.

There is also the fact that no matter how much good you do, you’re going to face people who aren’t really into to rampant property destruction. Embrace it.

There are many paths to greatness. If all of us had the same beginning, we wouldn’t be as effective a fighting force.

For some, it is a means to achieve greatness while satisfying our intrinsic desires.

Other times, we must nurture it even as we are derided for it.

https://twitter.com/Rachelnoise/status/767557243571101697

Whatever path you take, you must develop your skills. Often, it will be a miserable struggle.

https://twitter.com/Piecezilla/status/768841953639141377

There will be failures.

There will be those who refuse to accept our ascent toward greatness.

https://twitter.com/philco816/status/758320305454534657

And there’s always the possibility that your legacy will be darker than you intended. Noble intentions don’t guarantee noble results.

You could also be living wholly in your mind. There are worse fates.

The thing about superheroes, and super villains, is they surprise their opponents with unconventional weapons.

They are also shamed anytime they take a moment off, even though that means they’re not destroying property.

Don’t forget theme music.

Or to let your innate talents flow freely.

Don’t show your hand, though.

Emerge from your shell like a turtle, perhaps of the ninja variety, and just kick ass.

https://twitter.com/jergarl/status/749450809348202496

She’s not the hero we deserve, but the one we need right now.

You deliver blows to the face, that’s what you do.

Oh yeah, this is an origin story.

The Fragrancer: Origins.

The Weird Neighbor: Origins.

Whatever happens, make sure you have a lair. You aren’t shit without a lair.

Scoff if you must, but this guy is more powerful than Aquaman.

Aquaman’s parents considered her a candidate for an arranged marriage, then this happened.

“It is good to carry some powdered rouge in one’s sleeve. It may happen that when one is sobering up or waking from sleep, a samurai’s complexion may be poor. At such a time it is good to take out and apply some powdered rouge.”

https://twitter.com/iLikeCatShirts/status/768620933313662977

For Asgard!

When you have an origin story, no challenge will be too great.

No amount of subterfuge too extreme.

No training too severe.

People will doubt your methods, but you must persevere.

No obstacle shall be insurmountable.

No power shall go unexplored.

For what doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger. Unless it kills us.

Regardless, once we don the mask, we get to choose our own adventure. And destroy some property.

And though we may be reviled for a time, we only come back more powerful than before.

For it is about the destination and not the journey.

The alarm erupts, emitting beeps forged in the crucible of Hell, designed to rouse even the deepest of sleepers from their torpor. A hand reaches out and delivers a blow to the button atop the clock. A hand reaches out and delivers a blow to the button atop the clock. Nine minutes later, the scene is repeated. Nine minutes later, again. Nine minutes later, the hand moves from the button to the slider and turns the alarm to the off position.

He swings his body out of bed and onto an empty floor. Out in the distance, the sounds of sewing machines and fabric being filled remind him that his work isn’t done. Somewhere, a new decorative throw pillow is being positioned. He puts on his cape, grabs a cup of coffee, checks his email, and heads out the door. Until he takes his last breath, this is his battle and it will never be completed, even as he has attempted to ameliorate the masses with terrifying accoutrements of his own design, for there is always a counter.

https://twitter.com/julietactually/status/768487985994084352