Iron Man

When I was young, my neighbor Brian was so into comic books, he stuck a battery and a magnet in his chest so he could be like Iron Man.
He spent a month in the hospital, and when he came out, they taped oven mitts on to his hands and kept him sedated.
And no comic books.
Still, he’d ask me if he could read my comic books.
“Well, I don’t think Iron Man is good for you,” I’d say. “But Superman should be fine, right?”
No, not really. He thought he could fly, and jumped off of the roof.