Stewie sat in his room. Power. He craved power.
"Rupert, I wish I could kill that vile woman. But I'm not powerful enough. Although I am much more intelligent than the average adult, I'm still just a baby."
He turned to the stuffed bear in hope of help.
"You're right, Rupert. I need a way to become more powerful." With that Stewie got to work. Downstairs, Brian was writing a new novel. "A man who finds a magic typewriter... but everything he types his racist. Yes, yes it makes sense! Old machine, old views on life." He took a sip of his martini as he shut his laptop and walked to the kitchen. "Unga Bunga, Unga Bunga, Unga Bunga!" Those were the words he heard before Chris and Peter ran and slammed into each other while holding mattresses. In the crash, Brian's laptop was destroyed. "Dammit Peter! That was my laptop! I had years of writing work on that!" Peter turned to him and kicked the laptop at Chris. "Roadhouse." Said Peter. Brian, frustrated, stormed upstairs. He went into his only reliable friend's room. "Stewie, I'm so sick of this family!"
"What happened this time? Did Lois say you're not a hero for owning a Prius?"
"No, Stewie. They broke my laptop. I can't stand them anymore! I just wish I could get back at them."
Stewie smiled mischievously.
"Well Brian, I might just have an answer! I recently built this new machine and I need you to test it for me."
"Stewie why would I guinea pig one of your machines when I don't even know what it is?"
"Jack Nicholson is inside and he wants your movie script."
Brian smiled widely and ran into the machine.
"Jack, I knew you'd be here. Wait a minute. Stewie!"
Stewie quickly locked the door and turned on the machine. Brian quickly screamed with rage and panic. Nothing but extremely bright green light could be seen inside. Seconds later it was all gone. The doors opened up and smoke poured out of the machine doors. A figure, extremely muscular with bright green hair floated out of the machine. A green aura was around him. His white fur rustled with the power exuding from his skin. He had a clear six pack of abs, except they were extremely distorted. One arm was extremely muscular, and the other was measly.
Stewie stared at what he had made.
"So... you down to clown?"
