Imagine: You're genius scientist Dr. Bruce Banner and besides looking a bit like handsome Hollywood legend
Gregory Peck, you also are responsible for the creation of the G-Bomb, a bomb that appears to have no actual purpose other than, uh, seeing what happens when powerful gamma rays are released. Anyway, you have lots of stuff going for you on this day. In fact -- if he or she were so inclined -- one might even say it is a
Banner Day.
But shit begins to go south when, just before launch, you notice some punk-ass kid relaxin' with his rag-top down
1, blowin' on a harmonica. You, being a decent man, run out to try to alert this mouth-harp playin'
asshole that he is in a forbidden area. The plaid-jacket wearin' prick blows you off. He says his pals dared him he couldn't get past the guards and you're gonna make him look like a chicken. You strong-arm him into a protective trench just before your very own G-Bomb blasts you full of those previously mentioned gamma rays. They are as powerful as advertised, bud. So powerful, in fact, that you are now a hulking beast of a creature. An Incredible Hulk, let's say. You are gray and you are angry. Oh and that harpoon
2-blastin' teen you saved? He feels so guilty about what happened, he decides to never leave your side. You are gray, you are angry and you have a new best friend.
You and your bff somehow end up in Russia, where you proceed to turn a monster to a man, save the world and maybe just maybe help start the downfall of the "Red Tyranny."
3 1 slang courtesy American treasure V. Ice
2 slang courtesy a very haggard Janice J., although I've heard that the "harpoon" in question could possibly refer to a needle as well. And Rick Jones is a lot of things (piece of shit, piece of garbage, sycophantic hanger-on) but he is not, at least to my knowledge, a junkie.
3 Well, we obviously know THAT hasn't happened. And on that long rocket trip home with your hopelessly devoted pal, you think to yourself,
"Goddammit, I should have just let this fucker die."