If the saying “truth is funnier than fiction” is accurate, then today’s comic is hi-friggen-larious. Some liberties were taken of course. My mutant power does not apply to all dogs, merely lap dogs, which are (in my mind) the last dogs I want to assert this influence over. It is an inexplicable phenomenon. Many of the dogs I affect do not have this problem with any other person, and are in fact housebroken. Yet, somehow, I appear as an enormous fire hydrant to them, inspiring the only form of materialism their kind knows: marking territory. Let it be known: canine ownership over me is fiercely contested and the war continues daily. Even now, the soldiers prepare their biological weapons to declare supremacy over all dog kind.
It never used to make sense to me that characters in the X-Men universe could despise their mutant powers. Rogue always made such a huge deal out of not being able to touch people without draining their energy and injuring them, but that doesn’t sound so bad. I value my personal space, but am rarely afforded it; frequently acquaintances and total strangers feel the only space suitable to them is what I consider “way too darn close.” There’s nothing able to enforce it like a death touch for those who don’t give me a wide berth. I might actually go out on Black Friday once and see what it’s all about, maybe get me some deals.
After my own latent mutant powers finally manifested themselves though, it’s a different story. It’s quite the burden, seeing an adorable little puppy, wanting to pick it up, and having to wait while it jumps up on my leg eagerly until it finally relieves itself on the floor as my powers kick in. I kneel down and pat them gently on the head and ask, “Are you done now Captain Puddles?” Then and only then am I free to pick up the puppy. Even as I pet it behind the ears and it happily licks my face, I am left wondering how long until I feel the all-too-familiar warm wet feeling move slowly down my arms and into my shirt? This power is my gift and curse. I struggle to learn to control it before the yellow tides blanket the Earth and humanity with it in a malodorous wave.