Mayor Larson making her own adamantium claws after watching Logan
After seeing the movie “Logan” this weekend, Duluth Mayor Emily Larson has reportedly sequestered herself in her basement crafting her very own set of adamantium claws from household items.
“Shit yeah,” said Mayor Larson, sewing 10.5 inches of crudely cut metal shards onto an old leather golfing glove. “This is gonna be so rad. I can’t wait to chop some vegetables when I make myself dinner tonight. Just try to stop me, Reavers! Rawwwr!”
Mayor Larson reportedly mumbled the phrase “I’m the best there is at what I do, but what I do isn’t very nice” to herself repeatedly while dicing the tomatoes.
The horrifically dangerous contraption has been loudly criticized by local high school shop teacher Kenneth Purham, who believes such things should only be made by licensed professionals who have years of experience working with fictional metal alloys. Purham confirmed that he would not allow such behavior if Mayor Larson ever enrolled in his class at Denfeld High School.
“No no no no no no no no!” shouted Purham, racing across the room towards his TV, as if he were able to jump through it and snatch Mayor Larson’s unauthorized project right out of her hands. “You give that here right now! I don’t know what you’re thinking, young lady, but we do not make weapons of destruction here! We make lamps out of soda cans, wooden coat hooks, and advanced students who are very earnest and respectful to the machinery sometimes are allowed to make wooden baskets to hold muffins! That’s it! Life is not a movie, and I am very good friends with Principal Baker if you want to keep endangering others!”
Mayor Larson claims her homemade adamantium claws are “super dope” and haven’t harmed anyone yet. She says they’re merely a passion project that expresses her deep love for the film and the Wolverine character in general.
“OMG, did you see how red his face got? What a total lame ass,” said Mayor Larson, rolling her eyes. “It’s like, I don’t need a coat hook, loser. I wanna make something cool. Logan is super cool. He’s, like, the total opposite of Mr. Turdham. People at school call him Purd the Turd. Everyone I know thinks these claws are bomb. Like, smoke a joint once in awhile so you’ll stop having so many crap attacks, man.”
This response only infuriated Purham further.
“These goddamn young people think they know everything,” muttered Purham, his face flustered as he angrily tried to force a cigarette out of the pack during his break period. “Don’t mind me, you little pricks. I’ve just been a card holding metalwork professional for half a century. I guess I just don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. Right? RIGHT? Jesus, these kids keep getting worse every year.”
While adamantium only exists in the fictional Marvel universe, Mayor Larson refuses to call her homemade claws anything else, repeatedly correcting friends and colleagues who call them steel. Apparently, revealing the true material breaks cosplay’s fourth wall, a world which she has invested nearly five days in meticulously developing.
The issue of Mayor Larson’s dedication to the Logan character hit its peak Monday evening when she wore the half-finished claws to the Duluth City Council meeting. Spending most of the night’s proceedings using the claws to scrape gum off the underside of the chamber’s long wooden desk, the mayor seemed largely uninterested in the zoning discussion taking place.
“Excuse me, Mayor Xavier, can we please get your input on lot 47563?” said Councilman Joel Sipress, tapping his fingers impatiently. “I’d like to get home before Supergirl comes on. My DVR is on the fritz.”
Like Logan’s claws slicing through an adversary’s head, Mayor Larson made quick work of the councilman’s erroneous reference to Professor Xavier, a completely different member of the X-Men.
“First off, Professor Xavier is a paraplegic. Wolverine not only has off-the-charts physical powers, but he also has regenerative abilities and can heal himself from almost anything in seconds,” said Mayor Larson. “They couldn’t be more different and you couldn’t be more ignorant. Secondly, DC sucks. They can barely even get their TV shows right without turning everything into goddamn Gossip Girl. Kindly step off, n00b.”
“I loved Gossip Girl, and I love Supergirl!” retorted Councilman Sipress, clearly hurt by the mayor’s comments. “She’s a smart, strong young woman who deals with all the emotional trauma unfairly hoisted upon teenage girls while also setting a prime example of how grown women of today can be both powerful and dignified without sacrificing their inner beauty. I don’t know why you have to be so cruel! The world is cruel enough on its own!”
Councilman Sipress then fled to the restroom to collect his emotions.
Taxpayers have been unconcerned about the mayor’s new obsession, chalking her behavior up to typical fangirl fanaticism that occurs immediately surrounding popular film franchise releases.
“I don’t care. Back when The Force Awakens was released, I used to go on Facebook and falsely report Star Trek fans for sex trafficking just to mess with them,” said Todd Harvey of Cloquet. “This is par for the course for nerds. Frankly, it’s nice to see the mayor is one of us.”