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Thumb.

Thumb.

You know what’s a surprisingly brilliant part of human evolution?

The opposable thumb.

Hear me out on this.

Most primates do have these to some degree, and they are used in manipulate objects and tools to their advantage.

What makes a human thumb all the more interesting, then, is just vital it is.

We use our thumbs everyday for things we take for granted.

That mug of coffee we pick up in the morning.

That pen we use to write down our thoughts at work.

That gesture we give to show our approval or rejection.

The list goes on and on.

Some behaviors are bigger than others, but they all rely on the opposable thumb to allow fine motor skills.

So what happens when you lose it?

It’s a short road to disaster and a long road to recovery.

The impairment of an amputated thumb, for example, is equal to the loss of three of your other fingers combined.

You could, in theory, have surgery to replace it…with your big toe.

But it’ll never quite be the same.

There are just some things you can never replace.

And even as you move on in life with this new thumb, you’ll always have the memory of what once was.

Holding that mug will always feel different.

Writing with that pen will always be slightly off.

Giving that gesture will look awkward somehow.

Because you know the truth.

You know what you had to sacrifice to get to where you are now.

Isn’t that right, Albie?

You know a thing or two about the removal of digits, after all.

More to the point, you sure know how to make someone hurt.

You know the biggest weaknesses to exploit to get what you want.

Sometimes it’s a literal thumb.

Sometimes it’s severing other ties.

But in the end, it’s all the same to you.

Whether you abandon your family or torture your enemies.

All that matters is you get yours.

And trust when I say that ol’ Simon is gonna help you there.

You’ll get what’s coming to you, alright.

You fancy yourself a master manipulator…but you’re looking into the eyes of the Taskmaster now, son.

And it’s time to remind you how it’s done.

You like to take your sweet time, beat around the bush, cut off other fingers in the hopes of extracting crucial information.

I go straight for the thumbs.

Time is no longer a luxury worth wasting.

Quick, and to the point.

And when I’m done with you, Albert, you won’t be able to pick a damn thing up again.

Not a mug, not a pen, and least of all your favorite tool of torture.

All you’ll be able to do is stretch out your eight fingers of remorse, begging for mercy.

And you will receive none.

I am ready to take what’s rightfully mine.

To finally begin my rise to power, to ascend to the throne where I belong.

A plan that I am giving two thumbs up.