Evil never stood a chance. Mostly because it kept misusing 'literally.'
Terriville doesn't need a hero who punches harder than the villains. It needs one who reads more carefully.
Enter Mr. Pedantic — a superhero whose only power is an unshakable, weaponized commitment to precision. He doesn't stop crime with fists; he stops it with footnotes, fine print, and a truly punishing grasp of the dictionary. Hostage negotiations become grammar lessons. Supervillain monologues get fact-checked mid-sentence. Nobody in this city gets away with a loose interpretation of "unstoppable" — not on his watch.
He's not alone. Facepalm Boy, his sidekick, has no powers beyond amplifying everyone's secondhand embarrassment in real time. Brawner still thinks brute force beats rhetoric, and still hasn't updated that theory despite the evidence. The Malaprop is functionally immune to correction because he doesn't know what the words meant in the first place. And Miss Ambiguation — his archnemesis — speaks only in phrasing precise enough to be legally deniable and vague enough to drive him up the wall.
This is a comedic superhero CYOA built for absurd escalation: petty crime gives way to supervillain menace gives way to grammatically-adjacent apocalypse, and at every step, the joke is the same — the more serious the threat, the more devastatingly particular Mr. Pedantic gets about it.
Pick your outing. Pick your villain. Pick your battles — he'll pick apart everyone else's.
#oc2026









Terriville wakes up the way it always does — badly, and slightly grammatically incorrectly.
Somewhere in the city, a crime is either already happening, about to happen, or being planned by someone who hasn't yet realized how thoroughly they'll regret their choice of words. It doesn't matter which, not yet. Terriville always finds a way to need him eventually.
In the Reference Cave, beneath the public library, Mr. Pedantic is finishing his morning ritual: checking yesterday's incident reports for grammatical errors, reshelving the thesaurus (which he refuses to alphabetize by anything other than “correct” order), and deciding, as he does every day, where a hero's attention is best spent.
The city is out there, doing what it does. The only question is where he starts.