Once my brother had locked in “Wolf,” I would describe the benefits of being the Wolverine. “You can stand up on two legs instead of having to crawl. You can punch in addition to scratching. You can hold the Wolf down and punch it. And you can hold objects in your claws and use them to hit the Wolf.” I know. I was a legitimate monster. To quote my grandfather after I punched my brother in the back, “What a rotten kid.”
