The only difference between subject A and subject B is shitty parenting. Somebody get this kid a rat.

A few months back, Scumbag Style brought to your attention a serious parenting fail involving an Indian family and their miracle spider child that could have grown up to be New Delhi’s most badass masked avenger. Barring that, she could have remained the living Hindu godthe ignorant rurals had already made her, collecting riches and fame and endless cunnilingus from her personal harem. But no! They had

A team-up for the ages.

to go and “fix” her, further homogenizing Eurasia into the blandest place that smells like shit on Earth, and not the comic book mecca of justice and cleavage it might have been, replete with onomatopoeic violence bubbles and grappling hooks.

That was all not to mention the schooling she could potentially have given those Bollywood hussies, all tryin’ to use their inhuman sexiness to distract us from the fact their evolutionarily inferior number of extremities. But the surgery was a “success,” and now other parents are feeling empowered to deprive their children of their most basic and innocent dreams. Like this mutant turtle kid in China:

Dad Maimaiti Musai said: “We were told surgery wasn’t possible when he was very young so we waited. But the growth got bigger and harder and became like a turtle shell. (der SUN)

You cured your son of being a Ninja fucking Turtle? Can your deranged – - nay, diseased mind possibly comprehend the implications arising from the damage you have done? I – - I… fffffuuuuh… hold on.

Despite my clenched, grinding teeth of incredulous rage, I have forced myself to count to ten, and rub one out* for good, calm measure. I want to make myself perfectly clear, so there is no chance of misunderstanding. I was born in 1984. Between the ages of three and eleven or so, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were the most important thing to ever happen to the planet. My friends and I would put on bulbous green noses and plastic shells on our backs, on purpose, just so we could spaz out like an epileptic cat at a laser show in the middle of the street, and beat each other senseless with crappy carnival-prize swords. Every kid, at one point or another if not for a solid couple of decades, fantasizes about being a mutant turtle that knows karate and eats pizza for dinner every night and doesn’t look gay yelling, “Cowabunga!” before going serial killer on a super villain whose costume was sponsored by Ronco.

I’m not saying you’re the worst parent in the world, sir, but if you had a fan club, Andrea Yates would be president. This kid couldn’t have been closer to living the fuckin’ dream if he rolled around in mutagenic ooze with a Chinatown turtle up his ass, and you literally lanced the awesome off of him. Why?

“People bullied him and we were determined to end it. He is such a good and brave boy and he never complained. We are so glad that he is now on the mend.”

On the mend from evolution, maybe. Oh, boo hoo! He got teased for being different. When has that ever happened? I bet the thousands of socially awkward but otherwise physically sound kids that get teased around the world wish you could surgically remove their bullies, but they know nothing is coming. Some of the most important people in history were teased at school, because the other kids had nothing but their good looks and their Starter jackets to bolster their foundering self esteem.

Billy Joel likes to recount how he used to get beat up for being a little Jewish piano playing pussy on Long Island, and look at him now. He’s a blubber-plated alcoholic who hasn’t put out a record in a decade, and he could ruin the back door of any chick within a hundred mile radius, and your mom, just so he can hold banging your mom over you. You don’t take adversity away from the kid because it makes him feel uncomfortable now. You make it a life lesson, help him develop some metaphorical callouses to match his gross real one. Wait until the mayor of Shanghai hands him the key to the city for foiling the plot of an evil super-genius with his bullet-proof back, and ask him if he’s worried about what the adult failure version of the kid that bullied him thinks.

Medics at Urumqi Military General Hospital say they have taken away the growth and replaced it with skin grafts from Hali’s scalp and legs.

Oh, that’s much better. He’ll definitely get teased less when he shows up for school in September with the head of a horror movie monster and the legs of a burn victim. At least with his disfiguring shell he had the potential to win some ladies over by saving the day. Not to mention, he could probably be the greatest break dancer of all time. The west has like three hundred talent shows that somehow pass as real entertainment that would kill to throw him a few million bucks to roll around on the ground smacking pajamaed street punks with his nunchucks on camera. If all else fails, you can make a damned decent wage on the freak show circuit nowadays. I’m just saying, parents tend to lack the foresight that people who are willing to exploit others’ kids have. It’s cool, you didn’t know. But what we should really be doing is collecting all the freaks that are born immediately after birth, setting up an kind of X-Men mansion school scenario, just in case they prove to be valuable freaks. Their parents might think they know best, but that’s all the genetic conditioning and hormones talking. We’ve already lost two potential super heroes – that we know about. Can the world afford another misstep?

* To this, in case you were wondering. If you need to go a good, philosophical, angry #3 that clears your mind of all concepts of evil and lets you, say, watch a Sarah Palin speech without rupturing an important blood vessel, this is well aged scotch of masturbatory fodder.