There was this time, a couple of years ago.
I was walking to work, and as I passed this one particular building, ten or fifteen pigeons took wing at once, like they do when they're startled.
Only they were so startled that they all evacuated their bowels in unison, just as they were passing over me, effectively hosing me down with their personal leavings. I was already late for work, so instead of backtracking a couple of blocks to clean up, I walked the rest of the way, hair and shirt and backpack all painted with this stuff.
To me it seemed like an origin story in the style of comic books: surely, having weathered this ordeal, I would acquire some sort of super power. Perhaps I'd be able to see through the eyes of pigeons in future as they cavorted and soared above this concrete jungle, this city of glass... or at least persuade them not to take their sweet time getting out of my way when we crossed paths on the sidewalk.
Alas, I remained as powerless as ever. And so I seethed.
Obviously, Thrusts of Justice was my personal balm in Gilead.
In its depths, you have the option to shoulder several different super powers, ranging from technological to biological, each offering its own benefits, each exacting its own terrible price. With great power comes great responsibility, etc., so take a page from RuPaul's diary and don't F*** it up.
Or do, if it means so much to you.
The magic of Chooseomatic books is you can always take it back and try again even if you die horribly, destroy the universe and bring Tila Tequila back into the public consciousness.
(NB: No you do not actually have the opportunity to bring Tila Tequila back into the public consciousness in this book. Matt Youngmark is a good person.)
This book offers a general attention to witty dialogue and magnificent narration, which would've been good enough for most of us.
But you know that time you were on the bus for what felt like four days with a bunch of weirdos, creeps and goobers and you thanked your lucky stars that they were no more powerful than you?
Pretty much every single supporting character in this book is a weirdo, creep and/or goober who can kick your buns from here to eternity, and lied about losing their bus pass because they didn't feel like paying and they knew the driver didn't give a care either way.
Going by what I've said, you might suppose that these characters are shallow, cartoony, one-dimensional weirdos, but like any real fan of comic books (or any form of media, really) Mr. Youngmark has given them lives and hearts and souls that will endear them to you even if they appear only briefly as you make your choices.
He's also pretty great with the world-building. It makes up only one small part of the book, really--mostly it adheres to the "here for a good time, not a long time" philosophy--but that small part is a lot more poignant and affecting than you might expect from a book with dueling mutants on the cover, and absolutely worth working through its many different storylines.
Thrusts of Justice is strange and funny and considerate (When they told you you could be anything, they didn't tell you you could be THREE things!) and also it appeals to what I would just hope is the impulse we all have to change the world for the better, or at least to give it a try.
Look, just buy it, okay?