Green Lantern

I had a really fun time seeing Green Lantern with you, kiddo.

Son, I don't know how to tell you this, so I'll just say it. Your dad's a superhero, like from the movie.

I bet you're pretty surprised right now. I bet you have a whole lot of questions, like where's your costume? Are Mommy and Daddy still getting a divorce? What are your superpowers?

Well, I'm wearing my costume. Yes, we're still getting divorced. And my superpower is... it's not important right now what it is. The important part is that you believe Daddy. You do believe me, right?

I have something else I need to tell you. It's about Mommy. Mommy isn't who she pretends to be.

Well, yes, she is your mom. That part is true. I suppose.

Alright, I didn't want to tell you this on your birthday, but Mommy is a supervillain.

Wait, no, stop crying. I'm... that was a test. And you passed! Mommy's not a supervillain. She's just a person.

But I really am a superhero. That's the important thing you should take away from this.

Why?

Well, because tomorrow the old Elmer Fudd man is going to decide whether you should live with your boring, old, normal Mommy or with your superhero Dad, and it's important that you tell him who you'd rather live with, and why. I just want you to make a well-informed decision. That's why I'm telling you now.

It's also very important that when he asks you why, you don't say that it's because Daddy told you he's a superhero. Daddy needs to keep his identity secret, especially from the Elmer Fudd man. Don't tell anyone, but I suspect he's a supervillain.

I'm sorry. Please don't cry. It's okay. He's not a supervillain either. He's just a judge. He and Mommy like to judge Daddy. They think that Daddy's a pathological liar.

What's a pathological liar? Well, I guess it's kind of like a superpower.

Anyway. Tomorrow's the big day, kiddo.

What's that? You said you want to live with Mommy? She said she's going to buy you a puppy?

What? No, no. Daddy's fine. There was an evil bug on the wall that needed to be punched.

X-Men: First Class

Dear Mr. Thayer,

I have reviewed your most recent application to the Charles Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. It is with a heavy heart that I inform you once again we do not have any openings for you this coming fall.

As a telepath, I know that you are preparing to apply again in the spring and the subsequent fall. Please save yourself the effort.

Your essay, "Wolverine Ain't Shit," even excusing the grammatical errors and what I can only describe as 1800s "pirate slang," was in extremely poor taste, even more so because there is no essay portion on the entrance application.

In fact, there isn't an entrance application at all, which is a fact that has still managed to elude you in these last seven years of our correspondence.

The process is really quite simple: if you're a mutant, I come to your home and ask you if you want to come to my mutant school. If you're not a mutant, you're shit out of luck, I'm afraid.

Your documented "abilities" are a few shades less than what we'd consider mutant powers here at CXSGY. I'm afraid that your "power" to ejaculate in under a minute, while certainly impressive in it's own way, is not a mutation.

And while I'm not a medical doctor, I would recommend that you see one judging by the most recent photograph you sent of your "ever-expanding back rash" power, which I have had the unfortunate privilege of watching develop over your last four letters.

If you must apply next semester, please consider Hogwart's instead.

Best Wishes,

Dr. Charles Xavier

Charles Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters