Dear Mr. Fantastic,

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Dear Mr. Fantastic,

What is up with the name? Mr. Fantastic doesn’t really scream superhero. It sounds like a bad superhero porno alter ego. “Carl Dickington is Mr. Fantastic in: Enter the Sexopus!” It also doesn’t say anything about you being superstretchy, either. Maybe Mr. Elastic or Mr. Extendable would work, but those seem like a bit of a stretch (pun!). Really any superhero with “Mister” but without alliteration sounds like a regular guy. And Mr. Fantastic sounds like a regular guy with a small penis.

What makes you so fantastic anyway? Is it the way you turned your college roommate/astronaut friend into a disgusting rock creature, the way you beat your wife through the majority of the sixties, the way you put your toddler son into a coma because he was too powerful, or the way every other member of the Fantastic Four has much, much better powers than you? Half of all Fantastic Four stories involve you mucking up some experiment and the releasing some terrible gas monster or some shit onto the innocents of New York, only for your rocky buddy, flaming brother-in-law and see-through wife to save the day. And when you think about it, you should really be called Mr. Mediocre (see? Alliteration DOES make it sound like a superhero name!). Plastic Man has much better stretchy powers*, Iron Man is much better at science-ing, and Captain Marvel has a superhero family without a domestic abuse case every month.

Please stop. Not “please stop this one thing you’re doing wrong,” but “please stop everything.”

Yours,
Keith McGuffey

*See LtSH #2, Blogophiles! –Keith

About Keith McGuffey

Exposed to dangerous levels of toxic radiation after his home planet exploded, Keith McGuffey’s spaceship crash landed on Earth! Developing super powers derived from his connection to the mystical Amethyst of Kashyyyk and trained in martial arts by his mysterious sensei Stalk, Keith McGuffey would grow up to become… Keith McGuffey!