Newgrounds.com — Everything, By Everyone.

There was nothing special about them. Or was it everything? So hard to tell the difference, sometimes. They went about their normal, extraordinary lives, talking about the popular, obscure hobbies that pass the time in those lives. They wear common clothes. About that there was no debate. Too common, in my opinion, so I decided to add some variety and originality to them.
How many people can say that their clothes had been covered in the blood of a self-inflicted wound? Five more, since I got involved. How I would have loved to see the joy on their faces when they opened their closets and found all that I had done for them! I also brought them a brand new car, and there were barely any stains from the previous owner. I bet they loved their new dog, too. More than that man in the sunglasses ever did. Never taking it off the leash and annoying it with the taps of that cane he used to hit walls and furniture like a madman!
There's no way the tall boy ever got any sleep with his brother snoring like that, so I muffled the snores with a pillow, and after a few seconds the brother must have realized how annoying he was, because he stopped.
The short boy's math teacher gave him so much trouble, but a pinch of chlorine in the teacher's lounge coffee machine made sure that the appearance of a substitute would give him a few days to relax until a replacement was found.
The short girl was too old for braces. That's what she told her doctor, and that's what she told her friends. A college graduate like herself? I agreed. One visit to the hardware store got me some tools to dismantle a lock and some pliers. Unless I have a drastic misunderstanding of the medical profession, a dentist doesn't need to attach braces to teeth if the teeth are ground into powder and scattered around the floor of a seafront warehouse. I left a blender so the girl could keep eating the same foods, and even juiced a few items from her pantry and refrigerator so she knew what to do, a business card for a surgeon, both for some help with new, straight teeth and to take a look at her nose, which I might have broken with the punch I used in lieu of anesthesia for my work, and some lipstick so her mouth could keep looking pretty while it healed.
The tall girl had a crush on a boy. Young love! How wonderfully romantic! In a heartbreaking twist, however, the girl found out that the boy didn't share her feelings. I figured that his standards had been set impossibly high, so I decided to show him how wonderful the girl was in comparison to others. A wig, some makeup, a dress, and a visit to the red light district to familiarize myself with how to best go about my actions, and then I was on my way. I caught the idiot boy and led him to an alley a few blocks away from the girl's house, so it would be easy for him to run and apologize once he received his epiphany. Which he did, with a little help.
The fifth person almost ruined everything! He started to put together the pieces, swabbed some blood from his clothes and the car, placed "Found Dog" ads, and snuck into the teacher's lounge of his school to look for anything that could help. He almost ruined everything! Almost! Almost almost almost. He came so close, so very very close, and had even found his way to the warehouse where I kept all of my equipment and had scattered the short girl's teeth. He hadn't counted on my consideration of guns as equipment. I'm fairly certain he walked in with ten fingers, two eyes, and blood pumping through his veins, but with all the time I had spent with him where he had seven, one, and none, I really can't remember.
The other four were safe. I had done a good job. I'm a good person. A helpful person. They'll thank me when I build up the courage to face them, but I'm just so shy! One day, though. One day, they'll meet me, and on that day, I will do some math.
4 - number of ungrateful children = X
X is how many friends I will make. I very much hope that it's four, because everyone that isn't grateful will be very similar to the fifth person. Too similar to be different, but too different to be similar. It would be very difficult to make them more different, but a few fingers and an eye are all that stands between them practically being twins! I really do hope that they're grateful. I like making new friends.

If it's all right, I'm just gonna type the story here.

Hank stood on the roof, gazing at the skyline. The wind blew the long headband that went over his mask. He looked to the ground, a few floors below him, and watched two grunts exchange banter and cigarettes. He decided it was time to start the madness, and leaped.
His legs crushed one of the grunts, and he held a silenced 9mm up to the head of the other, sticking the barrel into his victim's mouth. He shoved the grunt through the door, busting it off it's hinges. A few soldiers, armed with rifles, all looked towards Hank. Hank squeezed the trigger, sending the bullet through the grunt's head and into one of the soldiers. The others opened fire, but Hank had come prepared. He reached into his coat and slung a knife sidearm into the chest of a soldier. He rushed forward and, gripping the knife with one hand, he kicked the soldier into the wall, leaving the drenched knife in his hand.
Hank spun around, facing the other soldiers, and in his spin, sliced open the throat of another soldier. Hank grabbed the soldier's rifle as it, and it's owner, fell towards the ground. Hank pulled the trigger of his newly acquired rifle, sending a burst of high caliber ammunition into the bodies of the remaining soldiers. He tossed the rifle to the ground and headed towards the door of the next room. His foot bumped into one of the bodies, and it twitched. Hank raised his leg and brought it down, crushing the head of the soldier. He shook his leg, attempting to get some of the skull and blood off.
He entered the next room, where a soldier sat in a chair, bobbing his head up and down to an MP3 player, which had drowned out the gunfire of the previous room. Hank wrapped his hands around the unsuspecting target, and squeezed until he heard a satisfying crunch. Hank kicked the back of the chair, sending the corpse flying across the table. He saw the door to the next room open, and a squad of L33T agents stepped through. Hank reached into his coat for more knives, and when he pulled his hand out, Hank had a knife held in between each finger. He flicked his wrist, sending the knives flying towards the agents. Three of the seven fell, and another one stumbled backwards, a knife caught in his rib cage. Hank ran forward as they fired at him with their rifles. Hank grabbed the wrist of one of the agents and bent it backwards, poking the agent's rifle into his chest. The agent's own gun began tearing holes in his body. Hank heard the door he had just come from open, and he turned around, but all he saw was a red metal sign with an exclamation point on it slam into his face before he lost consciousness.