Volume 1 Issue 1: Samson and the New Doctor

The sun brilliance shone through the cascading white, vinyl picture windows this early morning, saturating the minimal interior with a golden hue that radiated from the metallic and glass material fixtures inside the waiting room.

The waiting area of the Health and Human Services Medical Office was a lustrous, expansive yet modest space that I might have called à la mode if I was both pretentious and French.

Not that the two are mutually inclusive.

The polished, clear-lined interior had little in the way of furniture.

There were several asymmetrically situated ivory, base chairs. Some contemporary watercolour paintings on the walls. A wide screen television playing medical infomercials in the background at low-volume. And lastly, two ivory coloured coffee tables, both with four partition cubby shelves positioned beneath a pane of tempered glass. Lateral to the bi-folding doors, leading to the examination rooms, stood the almost cream coloured, reception desk with two glossy and well-lit surfaced computer stations, one occupied by a very familiar fit and busty woman.

Generalised classical, string ensembles played indistinctly in the background, actualizing the serene, safe modernism further added to the room’s simplicity invoked by its interior design.

I sat in one of the many ivory seats, absent-mindedly flipping through multiple magazines located in the coffee table cubbies before me.

The seat’s ability to sustain my large, 350-pound muscular build while providing sufficient comfort, impressed me, though not surprising.

Sustainability and comfort for all sizes.

A potential boast of The Project’s public serviceability, but I was not here to praise The Samson Project’s hospitality towards my massive, lower extremities and large, muscular ass.

I was here because I needed a physical. A second one, in fact.

As you may have realised, superheroes often take as much as they give when fighting the superpowered bad guys. Our day-to-day consist of us getting bruised, abused, and, in my case, sexually used, so here at The Project, we are as much of a liability as we are assets. While it can be cumbersome, I agree with it. How can the public trust their beloved superheroes to save them if they can hardly save themselves? It is nonsensical if you ask me. In order to maintain work with The Project, we must have three annual physicals to ensure we are in proper working order, though I cannot help but think they are a bit stricter with me.

I guess as a prime representative of The Samson Project; I exemplified the superhero trope.

Sure, no pressure at all.