The Incredible Hulk

Now I’ll tell you all about a person who is named The Incredible Hulk. He is a musclebound giant. His skin is as green as the spring grass. He’s large, thick, and sturdy like a pillar that supports a building. If you make him angry, he will break forth upon you. — Just listen to his history:

It all began in the desert. Some scientists were constructing a nuclear bomb. One of them was a shy and polite man who wore purple pants with a white collared shirt. Now, when it came time to test the bomb, everyone ran and hid except this one scientist who was introverted and sensitive — for some reason, he forgot to duck and cover; maybe he did not get the memo. Anyway, when the nuclear bomb exploded, this scientist was sitting very close by, in his tent; so the ultra-powerful gamma rays shot right through the door-flap and made him scream. All the other folks who had run far off to take shelter now looked over and saw, emerging from the tent, not a mild-mannered scientist but a raving beast of infinite strength. 

“Behold what hath been born from the heart of the bomb,” said the team of scientists, pointing at this monster who was wearing a torn white shirt and purple short-pants.

The mutated man was given the title “Incredible Hulk” because he had now become big, bad, and plant-colored. He has a right to be angry, because he got shot with a gamma ray. And plus he’s my dad. 

Now here is a personal testimony from the Hulk’s own diary, which was found on the scene:

My name used to be Bruce Banner, but now, whenever I bump my head, it enrages me so that my skin changes shade, my physical form acquires much more bulk, my hair turns messy, and my uniform gets shredded. So here is my plan: I will visit Vatican City, the world's smallest independent nation-state, and ask to see the Pope. But, for the immediate future, I will focus on pulverizing wrongdoers for the sake of true justice. This should be easy, since my biceps are flexing, and my molars are enormous. Once my anger subsides, if people glance away from me momentarily and then look once again, they will wonder how I transformed back into a normal-sized human whose clothing needs to be reconditioned. But the moment anyone asks me why I lost my composure and left a trail of devastation in my wake, I will fly into a dither and become a new race with green skin. “Look what you have done,” I will roar: “Now I am speaking with a lisp, and my English is broke.” Then I will knock them all out, and punch them and slam them.