Part One: The Turning

Every heart needs a beat, every breath needs air, every person needs a companion, and every city needs a hero. This is the first chapter in this hero's journey. The chapter where he has embarked on his journey to save the world from improper safety techniques and bulling falsities. His name is Superham.

The day was cold and dark. The constant fall of rain made the day seem even more depressing than it was but it was just another day for Cottingham. His trusty tools remained strapped to his sides as he went to work on advanced cabinet. Minutes flew by as if they were seconds. The passion for wood working filled this 40 year old almost deaf man's heart. Something horrible was about to happen. The old hero placed his board of choice on the belt sander's belt. Normally, the board is suppose to go through and be sanded down a bit, but this one got jammed.

"Dammit, I know I shouldn't have used Cedar for this!"

He properly shut the machine down. First he turned the conveyor belt off then he turned the sander belt off. He then bent down and closed the air valve. Finally, he unplugged the machine. Before opening up the sander up he readjusted his safety glasses. As he opened the machine he could feel the pressure build up, the suspension was killing him. Every second in the woodshop was deadly.

"Ah, ha!"

The machine wasn't completely cleaned out regularly because he barely used it. The extra dust had built up and clogged the machine. He blew on the dust to move it out. Bad move. The dust quickly came back at him. A lot of it entered his mouth; to which he quickly spit it. The saliva had gone into several wires and caused a short circuit of the remaining energy in the machine. He felt his body becoming intertwined with the machine. After minutes of agonizing pain he finally passed out.

When he awoke he was on the floor. His tools were missing from his side. Cottingham then looked at his hands to make sure he was okay. What he saw amazed him, his hand was a hammer!

"My god!"

Superham was born.

Part Two: An Idea

The old and fragile hero stood up. His hand was a hammer. There wasn't any debate. It was indeed a hammer. A thousand thoughts flashed through his mind. There was so much he didn't understand about the situation.

"I need to lay off of the computer duster"

Cottingham walked over to his office and sat down in his hand-made swivel wood chair. He shuffled a few things around on his desk with his normal hand before searching the web. There was various things that talked of the power of transforming your entire body into something else but it was only his hand. He glanced down at his hand and and thought of a screwdriver. Instantly his hand shifted into a screwdriver. He then thought of a nail gun, his hand did the same thing. It shifted from a screwdriver into a nailgun. He placed the tip on his hand-made desk and thought of the gun shooting and it did. One nail remained lodged into the desk. He then transformed his hand back into a hammer. He quickly pounded the nail into the desk.

He turned his head towards the left, staring at the computer duster can. He slowly pushed it further away with his normal hand. A thought quickly formed into his head. He walked to a pile of scrap wood and thought of the image of a chainsaw. His right hand instantly changed however, it would not start.

"Hm, wait a second!"

Cottingham undid the gas valve and turned his left hand into a can of gas. He then held it over the hole and poured gas into it. He then switched his hand back and rescrewed on the cap. Instantly the chainsaw started up. He then a single board in half before walking back to his desk.

To take his mind off of the events he switched to a news website and watched the most recent video.

"Recently the number of rapes, murders, and robberies worldwide has gone up. It can only be expected to rise."

A smile formed on the hero's face. He gazed down at his hand and changed it into a gun and then back into hand.

"This need world needs somebody that has nothing to lose, something that will risk everything to save the world, somebody that has the moral obligation to save the world."

He stared down at the floor and muttered three words.

"I. Am. Superham."

Part Three: Supertweak?

It had been several weeks since the proud hero began his quest. He had experimented with his power quite a bit, but never around the students. Cottingham's ability had begun to grow and transform. In worry of a student having what happened to him, happen to them, Cot removed the machine. He also discovered that he is able to turn his hand into a vehicle as well, as long as the vehicle isn't damaged in any way, he can use it to get around. If it is to be harmed then his entire hand shifts back, so he has to be careful. Other than that he's all set to go.

The hero decided on what suit to wear on his journey as a hero. He debated many different suites but the one that piqued his interest, was the superham outfit. He downloaded a template but that took longer than it should have because he had to sign up for the site and the visual capchas were shit and the the only other option was the audio captcha and his hearing is worse than Justin Biebers singing. However, after a while he got a student to do it for him. He remade the suit so instead of a S on the front it was a "SH" symbol, for Super Ham.

He waited until his class left and school ended before slipping on his outfit and heading into the streets. He waited for something to happen. He shuffled around old trash for a bit but nothing happend. He called it a night and continued to do this for the next week until one night. Superham was waiting, like usual. The two frantic men shuffled into the ally, not seeing Superham. One of them was more frightend than the other. The hero decided to wait.

"So, when you think that money will be here?"

"I don't know man, just let me go, I won't tell anybody"

Cottingham knew that it was time to act. He stepped out so he was in view of the two.

"And neither will I" Cot spoke.

Both men turned their heads towards Superham. The robber quickly pulled his victim infront of him as a shield and then placed a gun to his head.

"Who are you? What are you going to do?" the villan asked.

Without hesitation Super ham raised his arm and fired a nail from his nail gun. The nail struck the attakers hand, causing his hand to be nailed to his chest. Superham walked up to the two with caution. The victim was able to break free, but he stayed. Superham stared deep into the attakers eyes, almost ripping out his soul.

"WHO THE FUCK USES A NAIL GUN AS A WEAPON?!" he screamed.

"Superham does, bitch."

The hero then pulled his nailgun up and fired a nail into the enemies head, killing him.

"Who did you own money to?" Superham asked.

The victim remained unstable for a momment before speaking, "they call him Super Tweak, I gotta go!"

Cottingham motioned for the man to leave. He then changed his hand back into a hand. He nibbled on the tip of his thumb. He gazed into nothingness before speaking.

"Super Tweak, who are you?"

Part Four: The Hunt Begins

The life of a superhero is dreadful. Dedicating a major portion of their life to getting rid of the poisonousness slobs of society is a lot. However, in the eyes of Superham, his time is limited and their isn't much for him to live for anymore. For over fifty years this hero has seen the world twist and turn into a dark ominous place to live. Ever since he was a little boy he loved to play with wood. Any wood at all. He liked to feel it's texture. Once in a while he would lick the hard wood to see how it tasted. Sometimes he'd get the wood's gushy liquid on his face and in his hair, making it so much of his later time would have to devoted to getting the sticky fluid out of his hair and face. Wood was always his escape. He'd tried to use the wood to do stuff that made him feel good and wonderful. Sometimes, he'd whip out his wood in class and show it to everybody. He'd bring his wood around the room and have all of his classmates touch it and feel it. Everything in Superham's life revolved around hard wood and now, he'd be able to finally use his acquired skills to rid the world of the most profound miscreants. So, it was a fair thing to give to the world and use the tools that nature had given him to give back to world.

One day in class. Cottingham was helping one of his students work on sanding his project. He suddenly overheard another student talking about the infamous "Superham".

"Yeah, I heard that theirs some old guy running around with a nail gun killing criminals, I think his name is SupperPork."

Cottingham's heart stopped dead. They had been mixing his name up! SupperPork? What kind of a superhero name is SupperPork? Superham quickly marched over to the student who was talking about him.

"His name is Superham! You get that? Super...Ham! S.U.P.E.R.H.A.M.!"

"Geez, what crawled in your pants Mr C?"

Cottingham was outraged. His blood boiled with hate and rage. He quickly turned his hand into a chainsaw and sawed the kid's project in half.

"Go down to the fucking office!" he screamed.

"I... I don't ge-"

"Did I fucking stutter? Get your undeserving butt down to Mr. Bukkake!"

The outraged hero walked back into his office. He quickly went onto a news website to get updated on the situation.

"They call him Super Tweak. He has control of over 3.5 billion dollars and he is the biggest drug manufacture in the world. He makes the finest meth, heroine, crack, and L.S.D."

Part Five: Lapanso Larson

Tracking down somebody is difficult. Especially when the police are trying to do the same thing. It also doesn't help when the perpetrator is a well known drug manufacturer. Nonetheless, Cottingham knew what he was getting into when he became Superham. The only available lead that he was able to obtain was the man he saved in the ally-way that night. It didn't take much to track him down. The man looked like a drug user, which made Superham's job easier. He simply obtained a list of all the people convicted of a drug felony. Then he went through the people under 30 years old. Then finally he matched that dwindled down list with the users on Facebook that use the game app called "Pot Farm". Bingo. He had found him.

23 year old, Jonathan Hageman. At the age of 13 he began using marijuana. From there he began committing low-class robberies. Not enough to be picked up by the police radar by he finally was caught snorting marijuana in the bathroom of a local Co-Op gas station. The quickly made the connection to his thieving life when they found over $600 in typical robbery tools on his person. He spent four months in jail before being released on bail. Now it was up to Cottingham to track this guy down. The only way for Superham to make any sort of contact with the man, was to set up a Facebook page and message him. All the new technology was confusing so what should've taken only five minutes, took five days. However, after he finally set it up he messaged Hageman.

After a few days he received a reply; it read: "Yo I dunno know whoz you be but i aint messing with no superhero, but I will give youz the addresses fo one of his underground offices, you did not get this from me yo. 318 North Grove Street."

A grin formed on Superham's face. Superham was on his way to busting Super Tweak.

It has been a few months since the lead that made Superham believe it was only days until Super Tweak was caught. Sadly, it was a lot harder than that. Superham arrived at the given location by Johnathon Hageman. The Ham arrived to witness the aftermath of a massacre. Dead bodies laid flooded throughout the house. Many of the men held their small caliber weapons in their hands. A tear shed from Superham's eyes as he realized after look in one of the men's magazines that Breaking Bad was over and Walter White had died. He sat down on a man's dead corpse and cried for a good two hours before giving up. He brought back a DNA analysis of some blood that was spattered on the front door's frame. He believed that whoever had slaughtered those scumbag people, had been injured when he moved in. He sent to one of the fellow teachers and Cottingham's school. Mr. Larson. He heard that he was good and DNA analysis and he hoped he could figure out who had killed those men. After a few days he met up with Larson and the Biology teacher told him that he messed up during it because the DNA was an exact copy to his DNA which meant that his DNA got mixed up in the process and ruined the testing DNA.

Today was Martin Luther King Junior Day and there wasn't any school which meant he could be Superham during the day. He sat listening to his police scanner for a good six hours without moving. He was about to go tend to his wood working magazines but he heard a scared and terrified voice. "THIS IS OFFICER PAY-UTE-SKI, I'VE BEEN INJURED, I'M AT THE VASALOPPET CENTER, SOMEONE IS STEALING ALL OF THE SKI SUPPLIES, I THINK IT'S THE CRIMINAL KNOWN AS LAPANSO LARSON."

Something clicked inside of The Ham's brain. WHO WOULD STEAL SKIES? He immediately shifted his arm into a fast motor cycle and took off towards the VASALOPPET center, hoping to catch this strange criminal. Once he arrived another blood bath was laid before his eyes. Suddenly a large whooshing noise blew out the old hero's ears. He looked up to see this Lapanso fella escaping in a helicopter. Superham immediately turned his hand into a grenade and launched it onto the chopper, blowing it up and splattering Lapanso Larson into pieces. The head of the criminal landed on Superhams's lap as he sat down. The mask of the villain was burned away. BY GOLLY IT WAS LARSON, THE TEACHER, SO IT WAS HIM THAT KILLED THE COPS AT THE ADDRESS.

On Tuesday Cottingham raided Larson's desk and found a direct location to where Super Tweak was currently at. With no time to spare he took off towards the location. Not a single clue on how he would take down this villain.

Part Six: Ready For Some Bitch-slapping Action

Superham was giving everything so this notorious criminal could be caught and arrested. It had been four months since his encounter with Lapanso Larson. The first person he had killed. Even with all the feeling of regret and hate towards himself, he still moved on. Eager to get rid of the scum called Super Tweak. He had left his wife without a sign of where he had gone or even that he had left. The Ham had to make money to begin construction so he started up his own prostitution ring. It became so large that he was make over 15k profit a night. He knew it was wrong to promote prostitution but he needed to do it in order to catch a drug making, life ruining, bigot killer, Super Tweak. He had set up his own head quarters. Complete with four super computers, six super fast vehicles, one butler, and over 200 different weapons. He still continued to save lives and he even became more well known. He quickly became world news and everybody knew that he is still rising in his heroism. Superman found a way to reverse his age by 30 years! His hearing and agility was restored. He also gained a lot of muscle. Superham was now ready to take on Super Tweak.

The days were hot and the nights were freezing but the hero kept on moving. Every hour he spent training gave him more of an advantage against Super Tweak. Everything Superham was going to be known for and become was riding on the capture of this one villain. Hopefully he could handle him.

Part Seven: Afghan Kush

"Yo, it's Super Bitch! My number one buyer!"

"Sup Somla!" Superham shouted as he gangster-walked towards his dealer."

Superham gave Somla a bro hug before speaking, "I need another 2 g's of Afghan Kush."

"Shit dude, you're buyin' all of my product." Somla spoke as he grabbed the 2 g's of Afghan Kush.

Superham chuckled, "not like anyone buyin' from you ya tight-wad bastard." "Ha ha ha, shut the fuck up." his dealer responded

"Whoa dude, calm your tits I was joking, I've been buying from you ever since Mattstone was locked up!"

"Shit dude, I'm sorry, I've been on edge all day, some dude keeps cuttin' off my supply lines." he replied as he handed Cot his Afghan Kush, "it's aight though, I got my men following the cunt, they gonna kill him by the end of the night."

"That blows dude!" Superham took a big whiff of his bag of reefer, it reminded him of the first time he snorted a line of weed. He then handed his dealer the forty dollars, "any idea what fucker is doing it?"

Somla flipped through the cash and laughed, "some tweeker dude."

Superham's heart fucking stopped right there,"the fuck ya say, bitch?!"

Somla looked shocked and a bit hurt, "some guy call Megatweek er something..."

Superham turned his hand into a four-foot long razor blade. He pushed Somla up against the wall behind him, using his right arm to push against his chest and having his left arm hold the blade next to his throat.

"Supertweak?" he gritted his teeth.

"Yeah!!" Solma responded, frantically, "yo man let me go!"

Superham thought for a moment before speaking, "Tell me the current location of the men!"

Solma reached into his pocket and handed Superham a piece of paper with the address on it.

Superham quickly turned his other hand into a glock with a silencer on it, he then pressed it to his gun and shot, six times.

The Ham collected the remaining weed and stuffed it all into a duffel bag. He then gathered the small amount of money, $500, and placed it into the duffel bag as well. The Ham then left the location, developing a plan.

"Fuck, I gotta find a new dealer."

Part Eight: Mr. GingerBread Man

Cough. Cough. Cough.

Smoke billowed from Cot's lungs and upwards, towards the ceiling. His mind felt at peace and stable.

"This shit is good as fuck..." The Ham giggled.

In total, he stole six pounds of weed from the dealer he killed and after only a week, over half of it was gone. He snorted it, injected it, smoked it, and even used it as a suppository. He was high as fuck. Like insanely baked. More baked then all the Jews burned in the ovens, more spaced than Neil Armstrong, and higher than Willie Nelson. He had smoked tons of strains of weed including White Widow, Strawberry Cough, Mango Kush, Super Lemon Haze, Afghan Kush, Grape Ape, and Sour Diesel. Superham had been severely addicted to Marijuana for years. Ever since his father, Jared Fayust, had forced him to snort lines of it every day.

"420 Blaze it, 120 inject it, 840 snort it!" his father would often say.

Over the years he had learned to control his urges but ever so often, he would relapse and blaze for two weeks straight. It would only happen twice a year, but ever since he became Superham the stress was too much, he began relapsing 5-6 times a month (obviously not smoking for two weeks straight each time given that would mean he blazed for 2 1/2-3 months in one month, instead he would blaze $400 of weed in one day.)

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Yo, Super bitch! I know you're in there, give yourself up!"

Superham just gazed at the door. Then, suddenly, the door morphed into a giant ice cream cone. Chocolate flavored with sprinkles on top. "Note to self, bag number two hundred and thirteen contains a hallucinogen, most likely L.S.D." he spoke.

"I can hear your super ass in there!"

Superham shifted his hand into a nail gun and pointed it at the door, waiting.

"Fuck this shit, I'm coming in bitch!" the thug screamed as he kicked open Cot's door.

As soon as he was in the opening, Cot fired his nail gun four times. One nail struck him in the arm, the second one hit him in the forehead, the third struck him in the kneecap, and the last pinned the thugs dick to his thigh. Ouch!

"You shot me in the dick!"

"lol. yolo." Cot replied.

The Ham shifted his hand into a circular saw and walked up to the thug.

"You have five seconds to get the fuck outta my house, Mr. Gingerbread Man, after that, whatever is still remaining inside my home, will be cut into pieces."

"One... Two..."

The thug scrambled for the door, but collapsed in the frame, the nail in his knee cap made it extremely difficult to move.

"Three... Four..."

The thug moved out of the frame, just in time.

Superham walked up to him, "Five!"

"What! I'm outta your house!"

"But Mr. Gingerbread Man, you're still on my property!"

Superham held the saw over his head and revved it. He then swung it downward. Just before the blade hit, the L.S.D. kicked off and The Ham stopped the blade.

"Oh, I'm sorry sir, I was on L.S.D., I thought you were Mr. Gingerbread Man, the nickname of the man who moles- never mind."

"YOU SHOT ME IN THE DICK WITH A NAIL GUN!"

"Oh, sorry about that, have a good day!" Superham spoke as he shut the door.

"Fucking faggots, taking over my world, time to find Supertweek, my supply is running low."