Powers Nobody Realizes Superheroes Have

20th Century Fox

To put that into perspective: A single bolt of lightning is about 5 billion joules, which translates to 1.2 million calories worth of food someone would have to scarf for their body to generate that much energy. Storm would have to be downing 2,131 Big Macs per thunderous kill shot -- which means her particular mutation must allow her body to instantaneously materialize power from either the electromagnetic energy around her or fucking nowhere ... and either option would be a world-changing miracle.

20th Century Fox

The wattage in a single bolt of lightning could power a home for a month -- meaning that with the right conductor and tapering, she could be spending her mutant off-days occasionally taking the time to run entire cities. Her body can produce endless amounts of sustainable juice on such a large scale that she could piledrive the energy crisis like a robotic Al Gore, but instead she wastes all her time teaching children and saving civilians like a selfish asshole.

Look at that: He's not riding the wind; he's controlling his direction like fucking Imhotep. In a film series featuring a man who casually invents sentient robot claws and a meteorite housing a glob of outer-space Gwar jizz, this is by far the most far-fetched nonsense portrayed on-screen. And yet, no one seems concerned about the sand-character that's managed to propel each grain of his disembodied particle cloud with no apparent propellant. That's seriously magic, right? Can we all agree that's magic?

How long is Sandman able to maintain his sorcerous cloud form? Can he go to space, like Superman? Build a Martian sandcastle like Doctor Manhattan? He has two out of four Last Airbender powers -- it's a wonder the world didn't just stop and give him all the cartoonish money bags he needed to cure his daughter's mystery ailment. For all we know, he's as immortal as the hovering Earth particles flooding his DNA like dusty vampire blood.

Columbia Pictures

If you have ever fired a gun, you have no doubt experienced the boner-inflating opposing force created by launching a bullet, perhaps into a cantaloupe with the words "MY INSECURITIES" scrawled on it in Sharpie. That's called recoil. And, according to Newton's Law, without resistance and mass, that feeling would mirror the amount of force created by the bullet's impact. That is, if you had a gun strong enough to blow through a steel door, the recoil would be equal to that force, if not greater. With me so far? Now, let's imagine that your projectile didn't have any resistance or mass, like a laser. Like the kind of laser Cyclops uses to blast through steel doors.

20th Century Fox

Cyclops' laser eyes are so powerful that they can blow the roofs off train stations and eject ThunderCats straight out of national monuments. That means his true superpower is the tremendous ability to absorb batshit amounts of recoil that would come from firing such a devastating face-blaster.

That's right, kids: If you took a regular human and mounted a laser to their head, that person's head would explode right off their body the first time they used it to blow a hole through a tank. And yes, before you ask, laser guns would theoretically have a recoil -- which we're guessing would be tenfold considering the completely unbroken stream of energy connecting his skull to whatever fool enemy stepped in front of him.

20th Century Fox

If William Stryker ever got the opportunity to cut this fellow open, Cyclops' neck and spine would look like a piece of rebar covered in vulcanized rubber. Or maybe he just absorbs the force and recycles it, like Kevin Bacon's character in X-Men: First Class. That would certainly explain where the energy for laser-beam eyes comes from ... because, like for Storm, we never get a sense of where Cyclops' endless power originates, despite the fact that you could stick his head in a rain barrel and create a nuclear reactor.