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Sam Hyde Breaking Stuff

This Hulk doesn’t just break things — he annihilates household items with the emotional stability of a malfunctioning lawnmower. Drywall? That’s basically paper to him. Every time he gets mildly annoyed, a new fist-sized crater appears. The house looks like someone tried to teach boxing to a rhino. Contractors come in, see the walls, and immediately raise their prices. Doorframes? Yeah, those don’t survive. Hulk walks through doors the way Kool-Aid Man walks through walls — zero hesitation, zero respect, just pure “I forgot how hinges work” energy. The family stopped replacing doorframes months ago; now everything is just a curtain because it’s cheaper. Bedframes? Don’t even ask. One frustrated sigh and he turns a perfectly good bed into splinters. Dude doesn’t even jump onto the bed — he exists near it and it collapses out of fear. Kitchen cabinets? Hulk punches them open like they owe him money. One wrong creak and he turns the entire upper row into a rain of shattered wood and cereal boxes. You can’t even cook in that kitchen — it’s like living inside a demolition site. And the oranges… oh man. Hulk doesn’t peel oranges. He doesn’t slice oranges. He slams them in the damn car door like he’s interrogating them for information. The driveway is permanently stained with citrus carnage and pulp because nobody’s brave enough to tell him fruit shouldn’t scream. He’s not just a household problem anymore — he’s a community hazard. Neighbors cross the street when they see him. Mailman won’t step past the fence. Home insurance? They straight-up fled the country. This Hulk isn’t a hero. He’s a one-man property damage epidemic.