I was sitting at dinner with a friend and was just in a terrible mood. I had laryngitis and there was nothing that UHS could do for me. I was way behind in homework and the last thing I should have been doing was going out.
However, my friend was determined and talked me into it to try and brighten my spirits. It was working for a while. We were walking to a party and I jumped on his back for a piggyback ride. Then he dropped the fatal F-bomb. He called me fat.
I leaped off his back and threw one good punch into his back and bailed. I had to get away before it was too late.
Once safely back to my dorm, I transformed. I was Meg-Hulk. I was throwing things and screaming monosyllables like smash,"" ""crush"" and ""douche."" My Italian dictionary was destroyed, and no amount of staples, duct tape or glue would bring it back.
My rampage soon wore me out and I went to sleep, thankfully not naked in the woods after a bloody riot like last time. But the damage had been done - the Meg-hulk had been loose on the world once again.
This hasn't happened since the Meg-Hulk was sealed away by Doctor Bad in ""The Incredible Megan Corbett"" Issue #616.
I struggled to regain control of Meg-Hulk over the next few weeks, but so much suppressed rage was hard to contain. A stubbed toe led to the decapitation of no less than three housefellows. As my friends and the world police deemed my fits of uncontrollable rage unhealthy - for them and myself - I looked into several ways to combat my inner demons.
My first attempt was yoga. It seemed to be working at first. The peaceful music, the relaxing stretches and the significant chance of falling asleep with no one noticing were slowly taming the beast within. However, when the person next to me gave me a good kick in the face while assuming the ""Carnivorous Butterfly"" position, Meg-Hulk took over. There were no survivors.
Next I tried stress balls. It didn't take long to discover these are completely useless. Squeezing a small rubber ball did not sate my desire to squeeze the necks of my enemies, and I just kept ripping them into shreds when I transformed.
After a midterm in which I answered the last 20 problems by drawing frowny-faces in the multiple choice bubbles, Meg-Hulk was on the verge of rampage. I handed in my test and escaped the lecture hall just in time to save the innocent lives of my classmates.
I transformed, rushing through the woods along Lakeshore Path. I didn't want to venture onto the path for there were sure to be casualties if I did. I was in full Meg-Hulk mode and, as such, wasn't completely aware of what was going on around me. Everything was a blur, and there was so much adrenaline I thought I was going to run forever.
Then the little guy dashed out in front of me, and there was an imminent collision. I looked down, and there it was - I had plowed over a poor, defenseless little chipmunk.
All traces of Meg-Hulk were gone. I fell to my knees and stared at the lifeless body. My heartstrings were wrenched, and I couldn't think about my rage anymore. At least I was still alive to feel rage. I picked up the remains and tried to administer CPR, but there was no hope. I wept convulsively and built the tiniest funeral wreath you have ever seen.
After the memorial service - which was beautiful by the way - I did some soul searching. If this was the result of not controlling my anger, I wasn't sure I wanted to be angry anymore. Meg-Hulk was safely locked away again. Until I went to Carson's and they didn't put any cheese on my pizza. Meg-Hulk no like Carson's! Meg-Hulk smash!
If you would like to share your hulk stories, e-mail Megan at mcorbett2@wisc.edu.
