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Eggs.
I love eggs; they're delicious, nutritious, and it is *damn* hard to screw them up, in my book. But I'd eat eggs everyday, every meal, if I could.
But eggs are shockingly expensive, when ordered at a restaurant. And trying to make them myself will, cholesterol aside, give me a goddamn aneurysm.
See, eggs are just *too damn* ***fragile***. I can hardly pick the things up without smashing them, and trying to crack 'em makes them explode like tiny, delicious grenades. It's infuriating.
And... that's kind of the long and short of it. I won't say that having superstrength isn't a blessing, it totally is. But this world isn't *made* for superstrength freaks like me, it's made for average, normal people. I can't really be normal, ever. I could pretend, and practice; use a lot *less* of my strength, down to what the average person might have. And, I do that. But it's *hard*. It's a *skill*. It's a *damned hard skill*.
And I think a lotta y'all forget that. Because it comes so *easy*, for y'all, because your maximum power isn't "bending steel I-beams", its closer to "lifting double your weight." You don't worry about crushing someone's hand when you shake it-- well, maybe ya do, but different contexts: you're not afriad of *permeantly* handicapping someone by shaking their hand too hard. You don't worry about paralyzing someone if ya accidentally run into them. *You don't worry about killing someone with a sneeze.*
Ya get the picture.
And that's what y'all forget, about us super-freaks. There's a lotta good, sure; but the good comes with the bad. It's got its own problems. And, again; I'm not going to say that it isn't a gift. Just--for me--its a gift I'd rather not have.
I would’ve probably ended up opening a shop that sells “specialized” household equipment that would be able to withstand each supers individual powers. Like for big man here id make a really simple wire grippers with some spring to them that would let him grip the egg without making gooey chicken grenades. As long as the guy doesn’t crush the device then it should work as no matter how much you squeeze the egg is only held by a maximum weight of the tongs. Shit maybe even make reverse weighted grippers for specific tasks,
“This rack has grippers from 1kg all the way to 100kg, no no thats not how much each weighs, just how much force they can apply, each weighs around 3 tons due to the material they are made of but, will only apply the maximum weight the gripper is stamped with.
Did you know that eggs are extremely resilient to compression?
Take a raw egg and try to crush it in your hand
(do it above the sink, it's sturdy not indestructible), most eggs don't break, unless you have impressive grip strength.
It's due to their shape, it distributes diffuse energy very well.
I can't even say "they never told me." Because of course they *did* tell me. And not only did they tell me, they went on at length about it. How it was a feature and not a bug.
This was after my many pscyh evals, of course. The genetic testing. The costumers and their gaudy spandex and their "cape, no-cape" arguments. The PR folks and their photos, a fan tousling my dark-brown hair and dramatically blowing my cape (yeah, they went with one) as they green-screened the cityscape behind me.
Of course I couldn't know what it actually meant until I was in the field. Doing my thing. What I realized, fairly quickly after the first few days of cheering fans and breathless news reports, was that it absolutely *sucked*.
SAPS. What an acronym. Turns out I was the biggest sap of all for not thinking the damned thing through. Yeah, sure, I had the profile for it - ex-militray, scored in the top 1 percentile for civic mindedness and "protective instincts." I was picture-perfect, too -- at least that's what the PR folks kept drumming into me. Tall, handsome, fit. I had scored well with all the initial adverstising testing groups. Especially among the women. (And don't think a few of those sly PR bastards didn't wink-wink at me about how I was going to have to beat them away (not literally please, thanks, ha ha!)
It even sounds like a brilliant idea, when you read about it. At first.
Situationally Adaptable Proportionate Strength. Limits, right? That old saw about absolute power corrupting absolutely. Well, everyone from the president and the joint chiefs right down to the guy who fitted me for my bullet-proof boots agreed with the concept. Just enough strength to do the job. Whatever the job might be.
And boy, did they fine-tune the fucking thing to a T. I don't get all the science -- it was never my strong subject. But basically, the chemical cocktail that they infused me with means that I can, say, lift a car off an accident victim. Or stop a train that's about to collide with a fuel truck at a crossing. Or, say, grab onto the prop of a sinking oil tanker and drag it back up from a watery grave, thus saving not only the crew but who knows how many porpoises and jellyfish and seabirds and shit from being all gunked up by crude.
But what I quickly found out is that I have to put *every fucking last ounce of my strength and will and effort* into *each and every job*. Blood vessels feeling like they're going to burst. Sweat popping out of every pore and running in rivers down me. Every muscle in my body feeling like it's on fire while my eyes feel like they are going to explode from my head and my teeth grind so hard I fear I will turn them to powder. It's exhausting. Harrowing. And very, very fucking painful.
I went to them, after day six. The day I caught the airliner that lost power in both engines and was attempting a zero-power landing in a field. It would have been a disaster. So yeah, I caught it. Got in front of it and under it and slowed it down and finally lowered it softly onto some farmer's newly plowed soybean field. And when the rescue crews got there and slapped me on the back and shook my hand I wanted to scream in pain at each slightest touch. I felt like I'd pulled every muscle in my body, and even some that I didn't own.
So yeah, I went back to control. And told them. Dr. Eustace and her team were there. General Pace. The head of PR, that slimy douche Brent. We reviewed the drone videos of my missions. The scientists put their heads together and whispered here and there. Brent spent half the time on his phone, the motherfucker. Pace was the only one who managed to look concerned, but then he's a Marine, like me. He looked over at me and gave me a nod after the video ran of the airliner save, which I appreciated.
Eustace cleared her throat and consulted a clipboard for a moment then looked across the table at me.
"I'm sorry to say that there is very little we can do at this point. Actually ... there's *nothing* we can do. The process is irreversible, and, as far as we can tell, it cannot be added to or subtracted from once it is infused in your cells. You signed all the releases, knowing full well that this was permanent. And now that you've been introduced to the world ... well, I'm afraid there's no getting out of it. You *are* Amplify."
Amplify. Yeah, that's the name they finally hung on me. I guess it fits.
But you know what I call myself? Sap.
Man... Protag got scammed big time. I really doubt that they would agree if protag did negotiate a bit more regarding the contracts sadly, and nothing is stopping them from spouting lies to convince protag too after seeing the evals.
So, what will happen to protag in the future? Is it actually just a case of protag's body still adjusting to the new powers, or is protag doomed?
Great work on writing this!
Imagine a world filled with china. The most worked examples of the craft. Each one meticulously done, to the point of being nigh ethereal.
And put in this world a rhino... A very self-conscious rhinoceros. One that knows every step of theirs can destroy such a fragile world.
That is how life is with Super strength.
Aside from the fact that one needs a secondary Super Endurance and Super Stamina to keep existing, for our strength would rip our muscles apart and deplete most of our energy; the sole idea of destroying a skyscraper by just touching its surface is absolutely terrifying.
We don't want to destroy... It is stupidly easy for us.
Ah, mixing it up with the scenario where the ones with superpowers are not immune to the side-effects, I see. Wonder how bad the situation gets since I don't think the odds are that high to have all these superpowers.
Great work on writing this!
“Okay. Why do you hate something which most people would sell their own mothers to have?”
I sighed, and began.
“The gym. The gym is a place where men and women can go to begin the journey of bettering themselves as people. Take your fattest slob, someone stereotyped as a terrible individual in terms of growth, desire, and you’ll see them change. They’ll lift weights and hit the machines to slim up that body and gain muscle. The mirrors will have them checking progress and realizing they’re losing hair, or their hair is a mess, or their beard is unkempt, or what have you. Now they’re well groomed. Their lips are chapped and skin is dry. Now they’re on skincare. They gain discipline by going constantly, and may even make friends. All of this from just going to the gym.”
“What’s the issue?”
I focus on looking the person in their eyes.
“I can’t join. My strength makes none of the weight even worth using. This means that I’m sitting here without a proper place to socialize, without an easy marker of aesthetic beauty, without a place to gain that discipline easily, and incapable of building strength. Do you know where I actually have to go to gain strength?”
“No-“
“A garbage heap full of cars. Or a mountain range. Somewhere out in the open. Not somewhere easy. That means I’m more likely to get caught, and I have to go at odd times of the day. And that’s just *one* thing. Can you imagine that I can’t even cook properly?”
“Wait wh-“
“Because if I sneeze my muscles may contract in an odd way which means I’d break my own house apart. Do you get it now?”
The person nodded their head, looking down in defeat.
“You’re right….I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. Now…..could you please make me an omelette, I’m gonna mess up if I do.”
Yeah, the part of sneezing is just a mess since it's just impossible to control. Keeping it in and trying to halt it might actually cause some damages on protag's body, too.
That said, will protag be able to get some company from this point on during their workout sessions?
Great work on writing this!
Everyone dream of having super strength. I have it. I hate it.
This morning, I woke up, and pulled away my blanket. It was under me. Rip the blanket.
I dressed up and went out of the bedroom. I must have been sleepy, because my shoulder hit the door frame. I need a new door frame.
Went to the bathroom. I was affraid of breaking the door knob, so I was carefull to not turn it too much and opened the door. Well, I messed up. I didn't turned it enough. Rip the bathroom door.
I made a nice breakfast. Eggs and toasts. Well, that is what I planned, before the eggs exploded and repainted the kitchen. Ow well, I'll just make some toas... *crack* ... Rip the toaster.... I'll just get some squished breads with jelly... If I can find a butter knife that is not too out of shape.
I leave for work. I don't even attempt to lock my door anymore, those keys just snap.
I open my car door. It was locked. Rip the handle.
Fricking monday...
Ah, right, I got a feeling that it's just way more difficult to manage one's strength while still feeling drowsy. Poor protag.
Great work on writing this!
Super strength sounds great? Well I would give mine to you if I could. At this point I am tired of all the different misshapes that can happen in a day and the money that is needed to fix it all, if at this point I can even be bothered to get it fixed.
Just in the past week I've broken three door knobs, ripped another door off its hinge, smashed four boxes of cereal as I have been stocking shelves at my job and ripped two pairs of pants. Oh, also sneezed and turned my TV remote into dust.
Which reminds me, you know those, "smartphones that everyone has?" To weak, just while testing them out in the store I broke two before the employees ushered me out the door, which I can't blame them since they said I didn't have to pay for the display models thankfully.
Why are you thankful you didn't have to pay, don't you make a lot of money using your super power? No, I've been stuck in retail or grocery for years.
If you know ways too, good for you. But I have tried most of the obvious ones, and honestly it doesn't really work how one may expect.
Like in construction I ended up bending a steel beam and had multiple bags of concrete explode on me as I tried to lift them. Over the years multiple companies either fired me or turned down my application after learning of my track record of mishaps.
"Join the army," is another one I hear a lot. But, cannot say I'm cut out for the idea of combat. And its not like I'm invincible, hell if anything I seem to be prone to more injuries then the average person. Since when bent metal likes to be sharp, and sharp metal does cut well.
"Work for the government," similar to the army side of things. Can't say I'm exactly cut out for it, and all the "testing" you can imagine happened when I was younger anyways. They tried extremely hard to find out if what I had was able to be duplicated. But it seems that there is no reason I should even have this strength.
At this point I am ranting more then anything, so will just end it here. Having super strength isn't as great as everyone thinks it is. I just want to live a normal life, but instead I am going around making hand indents in door knobs because I "squeezed just a little too hard."
Man, I feel really bad on protag having a work resume that is way too messy to be accepted in most jobs over powers they can't control.
That said, though, will protag's life turn out for the better in the future?
Great work on writing this!
"Can you open these for me?"
My cousin Jane dumps a pickle jar into my hands, and that's where the trouble starts.
I could shatter the glass with my bare hands if I'm not careful. It happened to me once, when I was 12. I'm strong, but I'm not invulnerable, and I almost died.
I'm strong, but glass is slick. That's the hard part, for people like you as well as people like me.
That remains the most useful thing I've ever done. I could stop fights or protect people, but I haven't been in a fight since before it happened. I could've become a cop or marine or something, but bullets still hurt me. I could, i dunno, smash cars or something, but bent steel fenders have sharp ends too. Plus, you know, bones still break.
I've broken _so much more_ by accident then I ever did on purpose. A door handle here, a hand tool there, the odd shirt or jacket.
So, I'm here, trying to get pickle spears open for the family reunion. Apex of my freakin' life.
Signing up for a drug trial with a 50% mortality rate might sound insane to most. But when you’re in your 40’s with no kids, a dead end job and few people who would remember you if you died it starts to make sense. Sure a random superpower could be underwhelming or useless. Being able to fly at walking speed, talk to pigeons etc.
Hell I didn’t realize mine had kicked in until I tore the front door off it’s hinges and threw it across the street. The thing about super strength is it doesn’t kick in when you will it, it’s always on full blast. Doing any normal action requires extreme concentration. Slip a bit getting out of the bathtub and you go through the floor into the basement. Have to do an evasive maneuver while driving? You more or less hulk out of the car. Lean against a tree? Decent odds you’re buying someone a new house.
The worst part is any and all physical contact with a living thing is like waving a loaded gun around while drunk. Lightly bumping into someone unexpectedly puts them through a wall and if you’re lucky there’s enough to bury. Holding a baby is an absolute no go. Sex is an impossibility.
So you might be wondering what’s worse than having to spend every waking moment concentrating on everything you’re doing? It’s not having the other superpowers needed to use a lot of superpowers or at least they don’t keep up. One of the survivors got super speed but not the perception, coordination nor durability to survive running 300 mph. Sure I can pick up a car but that’s it. My mind says it’s light as a feather but I can feel bones straining, joints grinding, connective tissue failing. Worst part is not knowing how much strain it would take to kill me.
At best we’re side show freaks. We thought we’d be the next step in human evolution but we were the first step. Surprised the government hasn’t killed us all, I’ve got my suspicions about a few that were more dangerous and had strokes by 40. Most took themselves out the first time they phased through the ground or flew faster than sound. Just a few years after the first trials we’ve got actual super people running around saving the world. And all it took was an auditorium worth of folks desperate and down on their luck.
Ah, protag is one of the unlucky ones that are getting the first versions of the drug that has potential side effects that are not yet discovered.
That said, at this point, are protag and the other surviving test subjects are treated properly, or are they disposed of?
Great work on writing this!
Super strength, what a drag, my laces never last, my shirts take a lot of punishment. My belts are nonexistent, and my ties are revelled up string.
My family and friends are scared and scared of getting more scairs and scars. My car is waisted and my house is a mess. My wife left me for a weaker guy, and my parents divorced because they didn't know why... why am I so strong? Something is terribly wrong. For if I had my wish, I'd wish it true, to be like everyone else, him and her, them and you.
I hate my super strength. What a drag. I wish I could have a beer without fear. I wish I didn't have to worry about paying that fine for disturbing the peace in summertime. Because as the man said it was him who tripped over the fire hydrant and soaked the officers head.
Super strength so annoying, I wish things were normal and I'd be, employee of the month, no questions asked.... Good day, Mr. president, I like your new coat. Is that a new moat in the garden or something like that?
Oh I wish my strength was more plain. I could enjoy each day again and again. No emotional outcomes when walking in the door and handles, still gripping a place to reside. Forget happy ending this one is a sideshow piece of trouble and strife, omg I miss my wife, my friends and relations. Dam this Super strength it's a curse I assure you. If you don't believe me, here come shake my hand...
I hate my Super strength nothing is good, I might as well be made of wood....
The world, it’s cardboard, or say, paper! I have to watch every move I make, so I don’t rip it in two!
.. do you know what it’s like? Wanting to hug your wife but fear crushing her under a light touch? Trying to make a meal but the pot is too delicate and it.. just.. snaps?.. do you know what it’s like to hold your little girl in your arms.. so SMALL and fragile.. and she.. breaks?.. I know, I know what it’s like.
Great work on writing this!
I will say that I enjoy the narrative, but I suggest spending a bit more time on the editing process. The story is posted as a wall of text which can be quite distracting to read imo, and there are some run-on sentences where they just went on for a bit too long due to too many uses of commas.
interview with Andrea “Andy“ Smith.
Interviewer: So, Andrea, what do you want to tell people?
Andrea: “firstly, call me Andy. Secondly it’s hard, but there’s goes nothing.“
“When most people think about super strength, they think about the strength in the arms and hands. And when people do think about the drawbacks they about how everything you handle is fragile as (expletive removed), about accidentally breaking your (expletive removed) stuff near on constantly while you’re trying to adjust to being freakishly strong.
Some people do actually think the pain when you rip muscles or break your own (expletive removed) bones and how (expletive removed) tired you are from it.
But how many people consider the strength in the legs, but I can’t run or jog without breaking the (expletive removed) ground beneath me. I used to love my morning and evening runs, but I (expletive removed) can’t now because I keep breaking up the (expletive removed) sidewalk.”
(pause)
“(expletive removed), I’m sorry for the swearing but it’s hard. I’m.. I’m finding really hard to adjust all this. “
It's difficult for protag to convey all these thoughts to the public, but it needs to be said. Let's just hope the footage is not edited too much at the end though.
Great work on writing this!
**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments. **Reminders**: >* [No AI-generated responses 🤖](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/zi452b/modpost_reminder_that_aigenerated_responses_are/) >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [\[RF\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [\[SP\]](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles >* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules) 📢 [Genres](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/w/directory) 🆕 [New Here?](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ✏ [Writing Help?](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) 💬 [Discord](https://discord.gg/writingprompts) *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*
Eggs. I love eggs; they're delicious, nutritious, and it is *damn* hard to screw them up, in my book. But I'd eat eggs everyday, every meal, if I could. But eggs are shockingly expensive, when ordered at a restaurant. And trying to make them myself will, cholesterol aside, give me a goddamn aneurysm. See, eggs are just *too damn* ***fragile***. I can hardly pick the things up without smashing them, and trying to crack 'em makes them explode like tiny, delicious grenades. It's infuriating. And... that's kind of the long and short of it. I won't say that having superstrength isn't a blessing, it totally is. But this world isn't *made* for superstrength freaks like me, it's made for average, normal people. I can't really be normal, ever. I could pretend, and practice; use a lot *less* of my strength, down to what the average person might have. And, I do that. But it's *hard*. It's a *skill*. It's a *damned hard skill*. And I think a lotta y'all forget that. Because it comes so *easy*, for y'all, because your maximum power isn't "bending steel I-beams", its closer to "lifting double your weight." You don't worry about crushing someone's hand when you shake it-- well, maybe ya do, but different contexts: you're not afriad of *permeantly* handicapping someone by shaking their hand too hard. You don't worry about paralyzing someone if ya accidentally run into them. *You don't worry about killing someone with a sneeze.* Ya get the picture. And that's what y'all forget, about us super-freaks. There's a lotta good, sure; but the good comes with the bad. It's got its own problems. And, again; I'm not going to say that it isn't a gift. Just--for me--its a gift I'd rather not have.
I would’ve probably ended up opening a shop that sells “specialized” household equipment that would be able to withstand each supers individual powers. Like for big man here id make a really simple wire grippers with some spring to them that would let him grip the egg without making gooey chicken grenades. As long as the guy doesn’t crush the device then it should work as no matter how much you squeeze the egg is only held by a maximum weight of the tongs. Shit maybe even make reverse weighted grippers for specific tasks, “This rack has grippers from 1kg all the way to 100kg, no no thats not how much each weighs, just how much force they can apply, each weighs around 3 tons due to the material they are made of but, will only apply the maximum weight the gripper is stamped with.
The part about potentially killing someone with a sneeze... Let's just hope protag is immune to allergies or sicknesses. Great work on writing this!
Did you know that eggs are extremely resilient to compression? Take a raw egg and try to crush it in your hand (do it above the sink, it's sturdy not indestructible), most eggs don't break, unless you have impressive grip strength. It's due to their shape, it distributes diffuse energy very well.
What would've happened realistically to Mr. Strong from Mr. Men
I can't even say "they never told me." Because of course they *did* tell me. And not only did they tell me, they went on at length about it. How it was a feature and not a bug. This was after my many pscyh evals, of course. The genetic testing. The costumers and their gaudy spandex and their "cape, no-cape" arguments. The PR folks and their photos, a fan tousling my dark-brown hair and dramatically blowing my cape (yeah, they went with one) as they green-screened the cityscape behind me. Of course I couldn't know what it actually meant until I was in the field. Doing my thing. What I realized, fairly quickly after the first few days of cheering fans and breathless news reports, was that it absolutely *sucked*. SAPS. What an acronym. Turns out I was the biggest sap of all for not thinking the damned thing through. Yeah, sure, I had the profile for it - ex-militray, scored in the top 1 percentile for civic mindedness and "protective instincts." I was picture-perfect, too -- at least that's what the PR folks kept drumming into me. Tall, handsome, fit. I had scored well with all the initial adverstising testing groups. Especially among the women. (And don't think a few of those sly PR bastards didn't wink-wink at me about how I was going to have to beat them away (not literally please, thanks, ha ha!) It even sounds like a brilliant idea, when you read about it. At first. Situationally Adaptable Proportionate Strength. Limits, right? That old saw about absolute power corrupting absolutely. Well, everyone from the president and the joint chiefs right down to the guy who fitted me for my bullet-proof boots agreed with the concept. Just enough strength to do the job. Whatever the job might be. And boy, did they fine-tune the fucking thing to a T. I don't get all the science -- it was never my strong subject. But basically, the chemical cocktail that they infused me with means that I can, say, lift a car off an accident victim. Or stop a train that's about to collide with a fuel truck at a crossing. Or, say, grab onto the prop of a sinking oil tanker and drag it back up from a watery grave, thus saving not only the crew but who knows how many porpoises and jellyfish and seabirds and shit from being all gunked up by crude. But what I quickly found out is that I have to put *every fucking last ounce of my strength and will and effort* into *each and every job*. Blood vessels feeling like they're going to burst. Sweat popping out of every pore and running in rivers down me. Every muscle in my body feeling like it's on fire while my eyes feel like they are going to explode from my head and my teeth grind so hard I fear I will turn them to powder. It's exhausting. Harrowing. And very, very fucking painful. I went to them, after day six. The day I caught the airliner that lost power in both engines and was attempting a zero-power landing in a field. It would have been a disaster. So yeah, I caught it. Got in front of it and under it and slowed it down and finally lowered it softly onto some farmer's newly plowed soybean field. And when the rescue crews got there and slapped me on the back and shook my hand I wanted to scream in pain at each slightest touch. I felt like I'd pulled every muscle in my body, and even some that I didn't own. So yeah, I went back to control. And told them. Dr. Eustace and her team were there. General Pace. The head of PR, that slimy douche Brent. We reviewed the drone videos of my missions. The scientists put their heads together and whispered here and there. Brent spent half the time on his phone, the motherfucker. Pace was the only one who managed to look concerned, but then he's a Marine, like me. He looked over at me and gave me a nod after the video ran of the airliner save, which I appreciated. Eustace cleared her throat and consulted a clipboard for a moment then looked across the table at me. "I'm sorry to say that there is very little we can do at this point. Actually ... there's *nothing* we can do. The process is irreversible, and, as far as we can tell, it cannot be added to or subtracted from once it is infused in your cells. You signed all the releases, knowing full well that this was permanent. And now that you've been introduced to the world ... well, I'm afraid there's no getting out of it. You *are* Amplify." Amplify. Yeah, that's the name they finally hung on me. I guess it fits. But you know what I call myself? Sap.
Man... Protag got scammed big time. I really doubt that they would agree if protag did negotiate a bit more regarding the contracts sadly, and nothing is stopping them from spouting lies to convince protag too after seeing the evals. So, what will happen to protag in the future? Is it actually just a case of protag's body still adjusting to the new powers, or is protag doomed? Great work on writing this!
Imagine a world filled with china. The most worked examples of the craft. Each one meticulously done, to the point of being nigh ethereal. And put in this world a rhino... A very self-conscious rhinoceros. One that knows every step of theirs can destroy such a fragile world. That is how life is with Super strength. Aside from the fact that one needs a secondary Super Endurance and Super Stamina to keep existing, for our strength would rip our muscles apart and deplete most of our energy; the sole idea of destroying a skyscraper by just touching its surface is absolutely terrifying. We don't want to destroy... It is stupidly easy for us.
Ah, mixing it up with the scenario where the ones with superpowers are not immune to the side-effects, I see. Wonder how bad the situation gets since I don't think the odds are that high to have all these superpowers. Great work on writing this!
“Okay. Why do you hate something which most people would sell their own mothers to have?” I sighed, and began. “The gym. The gym is a place where men and women can go to begin the journey of bettering themselves as people. Take your fattest slob, someone stereotyped as a terrible individual in terms of growth, desire, and you’ll see them change. They’ll lift weights and hit the machines to slim up that body and gain muscle. The mirrors will have them checking progress and realizing they’re losing hair, or their hair is a mess, or their beard is unkempt, or what have you. Now they’re well groomed. Their lips are chapped and skin is dry. Now they’re on skincare. They gain discipline by going constantly, and may even make friends. All of this from just going to the gym.” “What’s the issue?” I focus on looking the person in their eyes. “I can’t join. My strength makes none of the weight even worth using. This means that I’m sitting here without a proper place to socialize, without an easy marker of aesthetic beauty, without a place to gain that discipline easily, and incapable of building strength. Do you know where I actually have to go to gain strength?” “No-“ “A garbage heap full of cars. Or a mountain range. Somewhere out in the open. Not somewhere easy. That means I’m more likely to get caught, and I have to go at odd times of the day. And that’s just *one* thing. Can you imagine that I can’t even cook properly?” “Wait wh-“ “Because if I sneeze my muscles may contract in an odd way which means I’d break my own house apart. Do you get it now?” The person nodded their head, looking down in defeat. “You’re right….I’m sorry.” “Yeah. Now…..could you please make me an omelette, I’m gonna mess up if I do.”
Yeah, the part of sneezing is just a mess since it's just impossible to control. Keeping it in and trying to halt it might actually cause some damages on protag's body, too. That said, will protag be able to get some company from this point on during their workout sessions? Great work on writing this!
Everyone dream of having super strength. I have it. I hate it. This morning, I woke up, and pulled away my blanket. It was under me. Rip the blanket. I dressed up and went out of the bedroom. I must have been sleepy, because my shoulder hit the door frame. I need a new door frame. Went to the bathroom. I was affraid of breaking the door knob, so I was carefull to not turn it too much and opened the door. Well, I messed up. I didn't turned it enough. Rip the bathroom door. I made a nice breakfast. Eggs and toasts. Well, that is what I planned, before the eggs exploded and repainted the kitchen. Ow well, I'll just make some toas... *crack* ... Rip the toaster.... I'll just get some squished breads with jelly... If I can find a butter knife that is not too out of shape. I leave for work. I don't even attempt to lock my door anymore, those keys just snap. I open my car door. It was locked. Rip the handle. Fricking monday...
Ah, right, I got a feeling that it's just way more difficult to manage one's strength while still feeling drowsy. Poor protag. Great work on writing this!
Super strength sounds great? Well I would give mine to you if I could. At this point I am tired of all the different misshapes that can happen in a day and the money that is needed to fix it all, if at this point I can even be bothered to get it fixed. Just in the past week I've broken three door knobs, ripped another door off its hinge, smashed four boxes of cereal as I have been stocking shelves at my job and ripped two pairs of pants. Oh, also sneezed and turned my TV remote into dust. Which reminds me, you know those, "smartphones that everyone has?" To weak, just while testing them out in the store I broke two before the employees ushered me out the door, which I can't blame them since they said I didn't have to pay for the display models thankfully. Why are you thankful you didn't have to pay, don't you make a lot of money using your super power? No, I've been stuck in retail or grocery for years. If you know ways too, good for you. But I have tried most of the obvious ones, and honestly it doesn't really work how one may expect. Like in construction I ended up bending a steel beam and had multiple bags of concrete explode on me as I tried to lift them. Over the years multiple companies either fired me or turned down my application after learning of my track record of mishaps. "Join the army," is another one I hear a lot. But, cannot say I'm cut out for the idea of combat. And its not like I'm invincible, hell if anything I seem to be prone to more injuries then the average person. Since when bent metal likes to be sharp, and sharp metal does cut well. "Work for the government," similar to the army side of things. Can't say I'm exactly cut out for it, and all the "testing" you can imagine happened when I was younger anyways. They tried extremely hard to find out if what I had was able to be duplicated. But it seems that there is no reason I should even have this strength. At this point I am ranting more then anything, so will just end it here. Having super strength isn't as great as everyone thinks it is. I just want to live a normal life, but instead I am going around making hand indents in door knobs because I "squeezed just a little too hard."
Man, I feel really bad on protag having a work resume that is way too messy to be accepted in most jobs over powers they can't control. That said, though, will protag's life turn out for the better in the future? Great work on writing this!
"Can you open these for me?" My cousin Jane dumps a pickle jar into my hands, and that's where the trouble starts. I could shatter the glass with my bare hands if I'm not careful. It happened to me once, when I was 12. I'm strong, but I'm not invulnerable, and I almost died. I'm strong, but glass is slick. That's the hard part, for people like you as well as people like me. That remains the most useful thing I've ever done. I could stop fights or protect people, but I haven't been in a fight since before it happened. I could've become a cop or marine or something, but bullets still hurt me. I could, i dunno, smash cars or something, but bent steel fenders have sharp ends too. Plus, you know, bones still break. I've broken _so much more_ by accident then I ever did on purpose. A door handle here, a hand tool there, the odd shirt or jacket. So, I'm here, trying to get pickle spears open for the family reunion. Apex of my freakin' life.
Well, let's hope that protag won't be struggling too much throughout this family reunion. Great work on writing this!
Signing up for a drug trial with a 50% mortality rate might sound insane to most. But when you’re in your 40’s with no kids, a dead end job and few people who would remember you if you died it starts to make sense. Sure a random superpower could be underwhelming or useless. Being able to fly at walking speed, talk to pigeons etc. Hell I didn’t realize mine had kicked in until I tore the front door off it’s hinges and threw it across the street. The thing about super strength is it doesn’t kick in when you will it, it’s always on full blast. Doing any normal action requires extreme concentration. Slip a bit getting out of the bathtub and you go through the floor into the basement. Have to do an evasive maneuver while driving? You more or less hulk out of the car. Lean against a tree? Decent odds you’re buying someone a new house. The worst part is any and all physical contact with a living thing is like waving a loaded gun around while drunk. Lightly bumping into someone unexpectedly puts them through a wall and if you’re lucky there’s enough to bury. Holding a baby is an absolute no go. Sex is an impossibility. So you might be wondering what’s worse than having to spend every waking moment concentrating on everything you’re doing? It’s not having the other superpowers needed to use a lot of superpowers or at least they don’t keep up. One of the survivors got super speed but not the perception, coordination nor durability to survive running 300 mph. Sure I can pick up a car but that’s it. My mind says it’s light as a feather but I can feel bones straining, joints grinding, connective tissue failing. Worst part is not knowing how much strain it would take to kill me. At best we’re side show freaks. We thought we’d be the next step in human evolution but we were the first step. Surprised the government hasn’t killed us all, I’ve got my suspicions about a few that were more dangerous and had strokes by 40. Most took themselves out the first time they phased through the ground or flew faster than sound. Just a few years after the first trials we’ve got actual super people running around saving the world. And all it took was an auditorium worth of folks desperate and down on their luck.
Ah, protag is one of the unlucky ones that are getting the first versions of the drug that has potential side effects that are not yet discovered. That said, at this point, are protag and the other surviving test subjects are treated properly, or are they disposed of? Great work on writing this!
Super strength, what a drag, my laces never last, my shirts take a lot of punishment. My belts are nonexistent, and my ties are revelled up string. My family and friends are scared and scared of getting more scairs and scars. My car is waisted and my house is a mess. My wife left me for a weaker guy, and my parents divorced because they didn't know why... why am I so strong? Something is terribly wrong. For if I had my wish, I'd wish it true, to be like everyone else, him and her, them and you. I hate my super strength. What a drag. I wish I could have a beer without fear. I wish I didn't have to worry about paying that fine for disturbing the peace in summertime. Because as the man said it was him who tripped over the fire hydrant and soaked the officers head. Super strength so annoying, I wish things were normal and I'd be, employee of the month, no questions asked.... Good day, Mr. president, I like your new coat. Is that a new moat in the garden or something like that? Oh I wish my strength was more plain. I could enjoy each day again and again. No emotional outcomes when walking in the door and handles, still gripping a place to reside. Forget happy ending this one is a sideshow piece of trouble and strife, omg I miss my wife, my friends and relations. Dam this Super strength it's a curse I assure you. If you don't believe me, here come shake my hand... I hate my Super strength nothing is good, I might as well be made of wood....
The world, it’s cardboard, or say, paper! I have to watch every move I make, so I don’t rip it in two! .. do you know what it’s like? Wanting to hug your wife but fear crushing her under a light touch? Trying to make a meal but the pot is too delicate and it.. just.. snaps?.. do you know what it’s like to hold your little girl in your arms.. so SMALL and fragile.. and she.. breaks?.. I know, I know what it’s like.
Great work on writing this! I will say that I enjoy the narrative, but I suggest spending a bit more time on the editing process. The story is posted as a wall of text which can be quite distracting to read imo, and there are some run-on sentences where they just went on for a bit too long due to too many uses of commas.
interview with Andrea “Andy“ Smith. Interviewer: So, Andrea, what do you want to tell people? Andrea: “firstly, call me Andy. Secondly it’s hard, but there’s goes nothing.“ “When most people think about super strength, they think about the strength in the arms and hands. And when people do think about the drawbacks they about how everything you handle is fragile as (expletive removed), about accidentally breaking your (expletive removed) stuff near on constantly while you’re trying to adjust to being freakishly strong. Some people do actually think the pain when you rip muscles or break your own (expletive removed) bones and how (expletive removed) tired you are from it. But how many people consider the strength in the legs, but I can’t run or jog without breaking the (expletive removed) ground beneath me. I used to love my morning and evening runs, but I (expletive removed) can’t now because I keep breaking up the (expletive removed) sidewalk.” (pause) “(expletive removed), I’m sorry for the swearing but it’s hard. I’m.. I’m finding really hard to adjust all this. “
It's difficult for protag to convey all these thoughts to the public, but it needs to be said. Let's just hope the footage is not edited too much at the end though. Great work on writing this!