[ WP ] Each person is born with the ability to consciously *snap* their mind as many times as wanted . Each snap unlocks a superpower with a mental illness in tow . The stronger the power , the more severe case of mental illness you get .

`` You wan na go now, Greg?'' 
 
 `` Sure,'' Greg whispered, eyes down at the imitation-marble floor. He moved around in his chair, uncomfortable. `` Hi. I'm Greg.'' 
 
 `` Hello, Greg,'' came the voices around him like the room was in Dolby Surround. 
 
 *The feature presentation of my pointless life, * Greg though, with a smile he did n't mean. 
 
 `` And what's your condition Greg?'' 
 
 `` I can tell good jokes,'' Greg mumbled, quietly. `` Like, really good ones. I killed my cousin with one, accidentally. He 
 had an embolism after a three hour streak of non-stop laughter.'' 
 
 The room went silent. 
 
 `` That's… very hard, Greg,'' the meeting leader said, in an overly professional voice. `` But I meant your condition. 
 The disease that comes with.'' 
 
 `` Crippling depression,'' Greg answered, in a bored tone. `` And suicidal thoughts, sometimes.'' 
 
 `` I see,'' the leader replied. `` Well, that's –'' 
 
 `` Fuck the Brazilian! Fuck all the Brazilians!'' 
 
 The leader turned his eyes away from Greg. `` Damian, what did we discuss?'' 
 
 Damian, or, how the media had been calling him, Tourette Boy, lowered his head in shame. `` I'm sorry.'' 
 
 `` If you feel an episode coming, you have to try and control it.'' 
 
 Damian's body blinked and vanished from his chair. 
 
 `` It does you no good to disappear, Damian. You have to fight this.'' 
 
 `` Cunty cunty cunt!'' came a voice as if from thin air by the corner of the room. A second later, the front door 
 opened, then closed softly. 
 
 `` He'll be back,'' the leader said. `` In the meantime, Sarah? Would you like to say something?'' 
 
 Sarah hovered back to her chair, smiling at the leader. `` Not really, no. Thanks.'' 
 
 `` It's important that you share, Sarah. We are all –'' 
 
 `` I said no, you cock-sucking motherfucker.'' 
 
 `` Is that bipolar disorder?'' a girl to the left of Greg whispered, leaning close to him. 
 
 `` Multiple personality disorder,'' Greg replied. `` It's not usually this sudden, with most people, but Sarah's 
 superpower ignited a pretty strong version of the disease.'' 
 
 Sarah was smiling again, blinking around at the room. 
 
 `` All right, we'll come back to Sarah. If we could –'' 
 
 With a loud bang, the wall behind the leader came crumbling down in large pieces of cement and brick to the ground. Hovering majestically above the dust against the sun, a figure in a cape stared back at the meeting from the hole it had just carved, its closed fists resting against its waist. 
 
 `` Thomas…'' the meeting leader whispered, looking up. `` You said you could n't make it, today.'' 
 
 The figure hovered down to the ground. Greg saw he had broad shoulders and thick black hair, and, also, a samurai 
 sword crossed with an axe behind his back like a backpack.' 
 
 Basket-Case Thomas. 
 
 `` The fucking psychopaths are coming!'' Thomas bellowed, looking around at everyone. `` The psychos! I need your help!'' 
 
 Thomas' eye was twitching in a repetitive pattern. He made way quickly for the light switch and, still scanning around the room insanely, started flicking it up and down. 
 
 `` Wh—what is he doing?'' the girl by Greg's side asked, as they both got up from the floor, dusting their clothes. 
 
 `` Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty. All right,'' said Thomas, smiling. `` Now my family wo n't die.'' 
 
 `` Obsessive Compulsive Disorder,'' Greg replied, in his usual bored tone. `` But that's not all.'' 
 
 Basket-Case Thomas had gained notoriety a couple of years before, when it came to light that he was the first person to take the SNAP – the power-inducing medication – more than once. Before him, no one knew the effects the drug could have on someone who took a second shot. Doctors and specialists everywhere were unanimous in stating that the drug should n't be taken at all -- but if it was to be taken, it should absolutely, no question about it, only be taken once. 
 
 Thomas had taken it seventeen times. 
 
 `` Thomas, what is going on?'' the meeting leader asked, taking a step towards Thomas, who was now carrying on a 
 low-tone conversation with the doorknob. 
 
 `` That's not what the voices inside my head are saying,'' Thomas told the doorknob, before turning around to look at 
 the leader. `` WHAT? JESUS, YOU SCARED ME!'' 
 
 `` Thomas, focus. What happened?'' 
 
 `` The psychos! The group that took the SNAP and went sociopathic, they've gathered together and are planning to 
 kill everyone else who took the SNAP!'' 
 
 `` Why?'' 
 
 `` Because they're evil! Trust me, I'm Napoleon!'' 
 
 The leader put a hand over Thomas's shoulder. `` Thom, are you sure you're not being a bit paranoid?'' 
 
 `` No!'' Thomas replied, in an offended tone. `` Also, the CIA is after us. And the KGB. What is this music inside my 
 head? DEAR LORD, IS THAT A CRICKET?'' 
 
 Thomas projected his hands forward, and a fireball flew out between his fingers and collapsed explosively against 
 the ceiling, bringing half of it down with a bang. 
 
 `` You fucking idiot! I love you!'' Sarah bellowed, dodging a particularly large piece of ceiling in the last second. `` I miss my hamster.'' 
 
 Greg remembered reading about how Thomas had been compared to a weapon of mass destruction with no off-switch button by the newspapers, a few months back. With the insane amount of mental health issues came an equally insane amount of powers. 
 
 `` Hey,'' Damian's voice rang by Greg's side, as the Tourette boy reappeared out of thin air. `` What's this all about? 
 *Penis! *'' 
 
 `` Basket Case is here,'' Greg replied, with a sigh. `` And he says the world is going to end, or something.'' 
 
 As Greg finished speaking, a loud whooshing sound filled the room, coming from the big hole Thomas had carved 
 on the far wall. 
 
 Greg and the others turned to look as a group of dark-dressed figures approached the house, walking side by side 
 in trench coats like they were coming from a Matrix convention. 
 
 One of the figures had lasers coming out of his eyes. 
 
 One of them had wings. 
 
 One had arms and legs so ripped he was either a body builder or an action figure brought to life. 
 
 `` I told you, I told you,'' Thomas said, looking around as he tried to wave away inexistent flies around his head. His eyes stopped at Greg. `` You, fat boy!'' 
 
 Greg looked up at Thomas. `` Yes?'' 
 
 `` What can you do?'' 
 
 A laser bean collided hard against the floor in front of Thomas, carving a large hole in front of them. 
 
 `` Does n't matter!'' Thomas continued, flying out of the room and standing in front of the psychos. `` All right, 
 you assholes, listen up!'' 
 
 Thomas froze in the air, looking around at the psycho gang members one by one. Then, with an embarrassed 
 smile, he looked back. `` I ca n't really… that's a pretty large crowd, I --'' 
 
 `` Anxiety disorder,'' Sarah explained, looking around. `` Public speaking and all that. Somebody help him, please.'' 
 
 `` I should do something,'' Greg said, as the psychos continued their approach towards them. Stepping away from 
 the wreckage that was the room, Greg took a step forward, stopping by Thomas' side. 
 
 `` HEY!'' Thomas yelled, eyes wide at Greg. `` HOW ARE YOU? I'M THOMAS. AAAAAAAAH!'' 
 
 Thomas started repeatedly punching himself in the face. 
 
 Greg nodded, turning to face the psychos through the hole in the wall. `` Hey there,'' he started, in a bored tone. 
 
 The psychos stopped. Greg clapped his hands. 
 
 `` You guys wan na hear something funny?'' 

