[h2]John Shirkwood, the Bar[/h2]

John was about to sit down now that the situation had been diffused when he heard screaming. Thankfully, he'd already dialed H-E-R, and just let go of the final digit as he began running for the door. 

H! E! R! O! When this mystical sequence is put into an H-Dial, a strange function begins- the dialer can become strange and wondrous heroes from across the multiverse! Of course, whether it's Robby Reed, Chris King, Nelson Jent, or now John Shirkwood- they never know WHAT they'll get when they... DIAL H FOR HERO!

He could feel it. This was one he'd been before. He knew what he had to do, grabbing a beer. As his body changed, his hair grew into a tastless mullet, his shirt vanished, his pants became a flame-print swimsuit, and a mystical quiver full of bizarre weapons to aid in the crusade of the [url=http://i.imgur.com/wkk82Wj.jpg] world's worst superhero.[/url]
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[h2]Florida Man, en route to Justice[/h2]
A recovering alcoholic. A former drug addict. Arrested for everything from smacking a woman with a banana to firing on a station wagon full of Hitlers with a musket. And now it was up to him to save that old man. Bursting through the swinging doors, Florida Man thrust his beer into the hand of the closest person present as he crouched.

"HOLD MY BEER... AND WATCH THIS!"

With a mighty WHUMPH, the boards under Florida Man's feet shattered into splinters as he leapt upward, soaring toward a vulture.

"FUCK YOU TWEETY! YOU'RE NOT BETTER THAN ME!"

As Florida Man approached the scavenging bird, he took a stance and roundhouse kicked the scavenger right in its face. The bird's jaw went slack as it passed out, but years of evolution locked its wings in place to prevent it from freefalling. While normally it would slowly glide to earth in a tight spiral, Florida Man had other plans. Grabbing the bird's wings and forcing them into a spread, trying to direct its flight.