The Incredible Hulk by Salvador Dali

The Hulk. The green behemoth. A walking, talking embodiment of repressed rage and gamma-irradiated angst. This ain't your mild-mannered Dr. Banner anymore, folks. This is a creature of pure, primal fury, ripped straight from the pages of some forgotten horror comic.

Imagine, if you will, a six-foot-tall slab of emerald muscle, veins popping like overripe grapes, eyes glowing like a pair of nuclear reactors on overload. Clothes? What clothes? This monstrosity wouldn't be caught dead in that constricting bourgeois garbage. He's nature's masterpiece, sculpted by the hand of science gone terribly, terribly wrong.