A loud bang echoed through the Baxter Building. Some Scientists were running confused and scared out of a common room, screaming about the rock beast and how he was going to eat them. The problem with Scientist types, they were way too jumpy.
Inside the mentioned common room, Ben Grimm had tossed a couch like a frisbee. The reason was simple, he had dropped his bag of skittles, and they rolled in the cushions. Ben never was one to think rationally. Stomping out into the hallway, he was hunched over and grumbling to himself. "Stupid Couch. Isn't sturdy enough to hold me, now it took all my candy. Mother F...."
Moving down the hall, he was gonna go to the kitchen and find some more. If he didn't, he was gonna send one of the idiot lab coats out to find him some. He may even have him grab a few packs of cigars. He missed having Cigars, but Dr. Storm had convinced him it was bad for him. He was living rock, and some smoke in his lungs wasn't gonna matter. You could blow smoke at a rock for 2000 years, and that rock is gonna be fine.
"Stupid Cigars....Rock is strong...I'll snap...flimsy couch...grass stains...won't let me have a pony."