What If Superheroes Had Pubic Lice?

Don't laugh. If a Super-Crab ever got the chance, it would kill you and your loved ones without thinking twice.

All right, all right, settle down everyone. Yes, I understand that you’re laughing at the title of the post, and I’m going to give you all a few moments to compose yourself, but I need everyone to be mature about this because this is a serious subject and I will not tolerate everyone giggling through it like a bunch of goddamn third graders, ok? Everyone got it out of their system? All right. Good.

This is the type of post we’ll need to put in the “Batshit Loonball Things I Think Of Out Of The Blue For No Apparent Reason” category. One minute I’ll be walking, thinking about work, or beer, or tits, and all of a sudden I’ll find myself wondering, “What if superheroes had pubic lice?” What can I say? It’s the kind of imaginative, creative leap that is the result of pure genius, or possibly blunt force trauma to the head. The point is, I think of a lot of crazy shit.

And of course, once I think about it, I need to continue to think about it so that I can tease out all of the angles involved. How would a superhero deal with having pubic lice? Would the pubic lice have superpowers too? And if so, do these Super-Crabs threaten the general populace? Sure, you my laugh about it now, but one day when you see the Statue of Liberty using her torch to scratch her muff, you’ll wish you had heeded my words.

Onward and downward…

Thanks, doc, but I don't need any shampoo. I've got other plans for these bastards.

Thanks, doc, but I don't need any shampoo. I've got other plans for these bastards.

The Superhero: Batman

Batman is a unique superhero in that he doesn’t have any super powers other than he’s got an assload of money, and he holds a grudge for a really long fucking time. I already know how to hold a grudge for a long time (which reminds me, Fuck you, Debbie Gibson!), so I guess all I need to become Batman would be an assload of money. Cool.

Anyway, since Batman doesn’t have any real super powers, his crabs would not be Super Crabs. They’d be run of the mill, ordinary crabs that wouldn’t be able to pull off bank heists or anything. But Batman, because he’s a pissed off fuck, would never shampoo them. He’d pluck them out of his Batpubes one by one and hold them over a candle flame, saying something badass like, “I’m not in this business to protect and serve. Burn you little fuckers!”

Engaging heat vision... Fry, you fuckers, fry!

Engaging heat vision... Fry, vermin, fry!

The Superhero: Superman

Superman is another superhero who doesn’t really have super powers. It’s just that his regular powers happen to be super here on earth, where apparently we breed the biggest bunch of pussies in the universe. Thanks for killing our self-esteem Superman, you dickhead. So if he picked up crabs while he was here, they’d be plain old crabs just like Lindsay Lohan has.

But if he brought the crabs with him from Krypton, watch out. These would be Super-Crabs with a giant “S” on their chest and the ability to deflect bullets, so if you caught them, you know, not even shooting yourself in the crotch would get rid of them. Just to be on the safe side, try not to sleep with Lois Lane or anyone that works for a newspaper because, ewww!

Anyway, Superman wouldn’t really have an issue with crabs as all he would have to do to rid himself is give them a tiny blast of his heat vision. So if you stumble across Superman staring at his crotch, you know what’s going on.

Fuck, these things itch! Somebody give me a hand, here! Please!

Fuck, these things itch! Somebody give me a hand, here! Please!

The Superhero: Spider-Man

Peter Parker got his super powers by being bitten by a spider, which is a horrible fucking lesson for kids. My middle son once asked me if I could buy him a pet spider because he wanted to be bitten by it so he could lift a truck (no shit). Anyway, the spider bite would only effect Peter Parker, so he’d have normal crabs which would threaten the populace no more than those of, say, David Hasslehoff. (I’m not saying I know that David Hasslehoff has crabs, by the way. I’m just assuming that the kind of guy that eats hamburgers off the floor probably isn’t too picky about where he puts his junk. He puts it into Lindsay Lohan for all I know.)

So Spider-Man probably does what any good spider would do: He weaves a web in his pubes, ensnares the lice in his web, then winds them in a silk cocoon so he can eat them later. Yes, Spider-Man eats his own pubic lice. Don’t look at me like that. That’s just nature, dammit!

"No sign of incoming hostile aircraft, boss. Just a woman squatting at 36,000 feet."

"No sign of incoming hostile aircraft, boss. Just a woman squatting at 36,000 feet."

The Superhero: Wonder Woman

It’s not exactly a secret that comic book “artists” are a bunch of male chauvinist pigs. Most woman superheroes wear ludicrous outfits that make it seem as if their sole super power is to stun people with horniness. Wonder Woman is a perfect example in that her costume is ridiculous, and all of her super powers come from accessories. Because, you know, it’s all about the accessories with the ladies! She’s got the bullet-repulsing bracelets, the lariat of truth, and the most fucking retarded accessory of them all: An invisible airplane that fails to render her invisible.

How fucking stupid is that? Guess what, braniacs? If I see a squatting woman at 36,000 feet, I’m gonna assume it’s Wonder Woman. I don’t need to see the plane to figure that shit out. Also, what if she’s flying from, say, LA to London and needs to put it on auto-pilot so she can take a dump? Can Wonder Woman have no privacy? Sure, you probably have to give some things up in order to be a superhero: A family, a normal job, the ability to buy pot. But shitting in private shouldn’t be one of them.

Anyway, I have no idea how Wonder Woman got her powers, and I really don’t care. I’m assuming her crabs are of the ordinary variety, and Wonder Woman could stamp out an infestation quickly simply by questioning the crabs with her lariat of truth. “Where did you come from?” “Lindsay Lohan!”

Dammit! Maybe I can scrape them off with this shield.

Dammit! Maybe I can scrape them off with this shield.

The Superhero: Captain America

Look, although bumping uglies, blowjobs, rimming, and all kinds of other fun things are as American as apple pie, pubic lice are not American. They’re Bulgarian, because no other group of people on the planet are as fucking lice-ridden as the goddamn Bulgarians. [Lawyer’s Note: Bulgarians are not a lice-ridden people. The author is simply using a comedic device known as “being an asshole.”]

But assuming for a moment that a communist plot resulted in Captain America being drugged and exposed to Lindsay Lohan, there is no reason to believe that the resulting patriotic pubic lice would do anything worse than run for Senate, so there is no need to panic.



The Superhero: The Incredible Hulk

How the fuck is the Hulk a superhero? Since when does losing your shit count as a super power? Fuck, all of my kids should be superheroes, but except for their tendency to wear underwear on the outside of their clothing I’m not seeing it.

Anyway, Bruce Banner was irradiated by a “gamma bomb” and so any crabs he had on him at the time are now also Hulk-Crabs, and you wouldn’t like them when they’re mad. In fact, this is how the Hulk usually makes his entrance: Bruce Banner gets an urge to itch down south of the equator and in the process enrages one of his lice, which promptly goes into Hulk mode. To an outside observer, it looks like Bruce has suddenly had a fucking Snow Crab appear in his pants. The enraged crab chomps down on Bruce’s “frank and beans”, which triggers Bruce’s rage and subsequent metamorphosis.

This is why the Hulk rarely makes sense. You try speaking eloquently with a crustacean chomping down on your fucking goodies. These Hulk-Crabs are very, very dangerous and the only way to get rid of them is with military intervention. Ask Lindsay Lohan.