Well, I have that, and I am that. Srsly, you can ask anyone who knows me and they’ll tell you: my ability to be a prick is superhuman.
Obligatory: Superdickery.
I disagree with this. A mime is a terrible thing to waste.
I’d have the ability to have the cutting remark for every occasion…I’d have the ability of having shoes that look awesome and never hurt …god, then everyone would hate me.
My perfection would be then be gallingly rubbed right into everyone’s face…I’m hating this hypothetical version of me already.
Two body image ones:
- the power of super metabolism. You could sit in on weight watchers (and other franchises) meetings in your size zero spandex eating entire cheesecakes (I credit this idea to AnnaKareninja and her marvelous shoes)
- The power to shrink and grow clothing. Imagine the poor person whose jeans fit beautifully one day, are too large the next only to shrink by afternoon. It’s preferred that you cause them to shrink on days when they eat nothing but carrots and celery and exercise like crazy.
Passive-aggressive Man, at your service! Or at least that’s what you’ll think. At first. You see, I have no hidden agenda… that you’ll find out about until I’ve damn well got you where I want you. Not that I’ll spend any effort at this, you just won’t get anywhere with dealing with me until you start acting the way I want.
Who knew sulking could be a super power? It isn’t, by itself – it’s just one tool out of the whole pain in the ass skill set. But I might occassionally get assed enough to do some vaguely good deeds once in awhile, in an ultimately self-serving sort of way. I mean, there will be reward money, right?
I’ll take the power to stop time. The superdickery just writes itself once you can do that - wardrobe malfunctions, shoelaces tied together, news announcers having fake moustaches scrawled on them in laundry marker, an entire football crowd all being given the hot foot at once…
The power to make people say the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth about their bad motivations when I stare at them and will it: they just can’t help it, kinda like what happened to Jim Carey in Liar, Liar. I’d attend political debates and give the candidates “the eye”, or attend US Supreme Court rendering of decisions and give “the eye” to one of the idiot judges (Thomas or Scalia) so that they couldn’t sit there quietly, but had to blurt out the truth.
I’ve often dreamed of having this power.
Some people shouldn’t be surprised if some of their most beloved possessions ever get flung out the window at high speed by a freak wind at some point in the near future. Then crushed into a tiny cube by a freak gravity anomaly. Just sayin’.
I’d be a dick to people who are themselves dicks.
People dropping wrappers from cars get a puncture. People dropping whole bags of McDonalds refuse from cars get their engine block melted to a heap of slag. Pedestrians dropping litter get their trousers set alight. People spitting gum on the ground find it in their hair later.
- That sort of thing (for things besides litter as well, obviously - that’s just the first thing that sprang to mind)
Hi. You present a very interesting character, btw. May I ask a few questions please?
The Hero/Anti-hero… would his entire motivation be the satisfaction of self-serving manipulation? Kind of a “ha-ha, look everybody! Look what I did!” bid for attention? Do you feel that that pain in the ass skillset/toolbelt is just a crutch for the character to achieve a center spotlight and steal attention without doing anything himself to actually deserve it (an extension of his laziness)? It seems like you are writing him as sociopathic & looking to destroy everyone and anyone he comes across by glomming their time like PacMan eats dots, but maybe I’m getting the wrong impression.
Also, the sulking thing, its just an act where he’s loving the game he’s spinning on other people, right? The reader should never be mistaken by thinking that is he just less than socially adept at making and keeping friends. If you were drawing it as a comic, perhaps a panel with him holding up his hands to cover his face, pretending to have been hurt, while showing rows of sharp possum-teeth smile out of one side of his mouth at the Con. Or does he really get hurt easily? Not that it matters in the end, but I was curious.
Would you write him to care about anybody except himself? Would the character even know that he is this way? Would he see these destructive qualities in himself and lead endless (obviously failed) attempts to change himself (like the Lon Chaney ‘Wolfman’) or would he just accept/embrace his lazy narcissism and point/laugh at the suckers (like the David Spade character in ‘Rules of Engagement’)? I’m picturing a character who has never worked very hard at anything in his life, who has no sense of honor, commitment or follow through at all. I see him written as someone who’d be more at home reading a mirror than a book; how better to hone his manipulation skills …or even to steal money? After all, he is just a thief…
I’d take the ability to ‘freeze’ time. Snap my fingers and everything around me just stops but I could move around and screw with people, move people and things around and just cause general mayhem. A few examples for some fun things to do:
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Just a half second before kick-off at the Super Bowl, freeze time, go down to the field, steal the football, stash it somewhere, return to your seat and unfreeze things. Hilarity ensues.
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Read every player’s blackjack or poker hand before you bet.
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Freeze time and walk about a mile down the length of a majorly busy highway puncturing every tire you see with an icepick.
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Go up to my boss and spackle his ass shut with grout.
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All drug dealers in my area would go out of business in a matter of weeks because their supplies would somehow keep disappearing.
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Just go around punching random people in the throat.
I think I would slowly, but continuously, increase the price of gasoline for no apparent reasons…
mwa-ha-ha
I’d take the ability to change someone’s religion and/or make them follow the doctrines of their religion against their will. That’d screw with nominal fundamentalists.
Then, for shits and giggles, i’d make Obama a muslim, then sit back and watch the fun!
I think it’d be more fun to make all the Tea Party folks into overnight Muslims.
For those who want to be able to stop time, I recommend The Fermata. It is a dirty little book and quite morally ambiguous; hence it’s a fun read.
I would take a combination the Word of God (whoever I talk to is compelled to do whatever I say with no protest – see either Jesse Custer or Zebediah Killgrave) and invisibility.
With the Voice of God, I would be a ripe bastard. Oh, yes, I would abuse the hell out of it. After a few years of fun, though, my conscience would probably catch up to me.
I would use the invisibility to tour some of our more secure government bases and find out what kind of research the U.S. government is really doing. I’d also spend a lot of time in the womens’ locker room.
Ventriloquist-Road Rage Man has been born!
So you’ve been a dick to me? Well then, prepare to reap the whirlwind! Next time you’re behind that car of black guys with the bass up way too loud, you will uncontrollably honk your car horn and yell the N-word at the top of your lungs, then find you are unable to drive away. You will do the same with any pick-up truck showing a confederate flag substituting the N-word for “red neck”. You will also randomly make sexual gestures at children in cars and flip off the clergy. God forbid you drive near a cop, because you will always smash into them while uncontrollably yelling “f*ck you, pig!” until you are tasered or beaten into unconsciousness.
The ability to morph into anybody.
Become the guy hated at work and go in and tell the boss I just did his wife…
Become a judge and tell the bailiff to “Whack his peee pee!”
Go on the evening news as the anchor and play a Bruce Almighty bit…
Become Cecil Adams and proclaim taht the paranormal is an exact science…
Become Paris Hilton and announce I’m “Born again!”…
BWAAAA HHAAAA HHAAA!!!
later, Tom.
I would like the superpower that, whenever I buy something, I can just reach into my pocket and find the exact sum in there. Buying a Mercedes? Reach into my packet and pull out a nice stack of hundred dollar bills. Buying a mansion in Malibu? Keep on pulling money out of my pocket until it’s all there on the table. Walk into an expensive art gallery looking like a bum, and say I want to be that painting there on the wall. The owner says “excuse me, but I don’t think you can afford that” - then his sneer turns into a look of amazement as I pull the money out, then I say “I would’ve bought it, but you were rude and condescending, I’ve changed my mind” and walk out of there.
Walk into a store, any store (let’s say an Apple store, or a big department store like Bloomingdale’s) and say “I am buying everything in this store. Ring it up!”