There’s nothing more special than a birthday. It’s a time for loved ones to gather, to celebrate your existence, and to indulge in an unhealthy amount of sugar. You get gifts like socks from Aunt Julie that are two sizes too small, a sweater from Grandma Margaret that is two sizes too big, and the complete and utter annihilation of your happiness at the hands of the Mad Titan Thanos.
At least, that’s the case for one poor soul named David.
While most people know Thanos as an Avengers-level threat, few realize that he’s also one of the pettiest, most sadistic party crashing trolls in the entire universe. Every year, without fail, Thanos goes out of his way to make David’s birthday a living nightmare. And we mean every year.
Let’s start with David’s very first birthday. Thanos, in what can only be described as a mild but deeply unsettling opening act, broke into David’s nursery and stole his baby blanket straight from his crib. Why? Because f*ck you, David. That’ why.
Of course, blanky theft is rather mild compared to say, Infinity Snapping half of all life away. But this first act was nothing more than a small taste of the decades of psychological torment Thanos had planned in store for this kid. Like on David’s fifth birthday, for instance.
When David turned 5, Thanos didn’t just swipe a security blanket—instead, as a follow-up to the last few years, he decided to smash the family car like a soda can as if it were in Darla’s hands. Hope they have vehicle insurance. Could be worse, though, right? Like, maybe if David’s father was still in the car when it got crunched? Because he was. And Thanos did it right in front of David and his mother. Happy birthday, kid. Hope you also have a good life insurance policy.
They didn’t.
As David hit puberty and hormones started to take over his every waking thought like a super horny symbiote, David began a relationship with a lovely girl who fancied him just as much as he did her. You remember those awkward days. Hanging out at the mall, making out in the back of an empty movie theater, late night text messages. Good times, right? But all good things must come to an end. Unfortunately for David, again.
This time Thanos showed up on his 16th birthday only to hijack David’s phone and send David’s gf a wildly inappropriate flurry of cruel text messages resulting in their immediate breakup.
Then, at 21, David wanted to celebrate with his friends the only way youth knows how; by getting completely and utterly sh*tfaced to the point where you blackout and forget the entire evening. For most, the worst thing that happens is a terrible hangover where you swear off drinking forever only to do the same thing the very next weekend. But for David, well, things got much worse. Thanos decided to spike the punch with more than Bacardi Limon, killing every single person in attendance except for David, just so he could continue David’s suffering next year.
At a certain point, you have to wonder—why doesn’t David just give up? After years of cosmic torment, the guy could’ve accepted his fate, curled up into a ball, and waited for Thanos to crash his life yet again. But no. David was stronger than that. So instead, he buried his trauma under mountains of textbooks and tried to build a future.
And for a while, it actually worked.
David overcame the trauma as best he could, and managed to excel in academics. He even got accepted into grad school, and was finally on track to make something of himself. He had dreams—big ones. Maybe he’d become a lawyer. Maybe an astronaut, or perhaps a mechanical engineer at an electric vehicle company that didn’t support the Fourth Reich. The possibilities were endless.
Then his 25th birthday rolled around.
And, as if personally offended by David’s ambition, Thanos arrived and literally burned the entire school to the f*cking ground.
Fast forward two years. David, broken but functional, is now stuck in a soul-crushing cubicle in a dead-end office job. His daily routine consists of staring at a plastic plant, pressing a “That Was Easy” button when completing a menial task, and flipping through pages of his Gary Larson calendar, pretending that his life isn’t a complete disaster. The only source of joy? A framed photo of his beloved feline.
Then, his 27th birthday arrived.
David, already bracing for impact, was then abruptly fired out of nowhere. Instinctively, he knew who was responsible. Thanos. It had to be.
But just as he was cursing the heavens that seemingly cursed him back several times over, Thanos actually appeared—just to clarify that it actually wasn’t him this time and that his newfound unemployment was just the result of well-timed bad luck. But Thanos, in all his generosity and of course needing to add a gram of Morton Salt to the wound, felt compelled to give him a gift. So he killed David’s cat.
At this point, it’s safe to assume that every single one of David’s birthdays has been a waking nightmare. And while we don’t have all the details, we can only imagine the horrors Thanos subjected him to during the in-between years. Maybe he forced David to watch Cats on loop for 24 hours. Maybe he trapped him in an endless conversation with a vegan about the ethical dilemmas of meat consumption. Whatever the specifics, one thing was certain—David’s suffering was annual, inevitable, and deeply, deeply personal.
Until his 30th birthday.
For the first time in decades, there was no Thanos.
David waited. He paced his apartment, glancing nervously at the clock, expecting at any moment to be thrown into the sun or have his soul swapped with a goldfish. But the hours ticked by, and nothing happened.
Then he found out why. The Avengers had finally subdued Thanos.
For the first time in his miserable existence, David felt something unfamiliar—hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could have a normal life. Maybe he could rebuild. Maybe next year, he could have a real birthday.
Then his 31st birthday arrived.
David, surrounded by friends and family, was on the verge of something he hadn’t experienced since infancy—a good time. The cake was ready. The candles were lit. People were actually smiling. And then, from the shadows, a deep voice rumbled:
“Sorry I missed you last year.”
It was Thanos.
Before David could react, the Mad Titan simply snapped his fingers and engulfed the entire house in a black hole.
More years passed. More birthdays ruined. More devastating proof that David was destined to suffer.
But then, something changed.
When David turned 45, he decided enough was enough. He had spent decades being tormented by an 8-foot-tall space tyrant for reasons beyond human comprehension, and he was done rolling over and taking it. No more ruined parties. No more death and destruction. No more reality-warping humiliation.
This time, David was going to fight back.
The minutes ticked away as he waited, fists clenched, rage boiling over like a birthday cake left too long in the oven. He had nothing left to lose. His apartment was a disaster—trash piled in corners, food stains on the walls, cockroaches scurrying across the floor. And all of it could be traced back to a single entity.
And then, right on schedule, the Mad Titan arrived.
Thanos took one look around and immediately understood the depths of David’s misery. He saw the filth, the sadness, the sheer husk of a man that remained after years of birthday-based psychological warfare. He knew exactly what he had done.
And for David, this was it.
Every hero has their moment. The moment they summon every last drop of courage and stand tall against an unbeatable enemy. This was David’s literal David vs. Goliath moment, and he was ready.
With the fire of a thousand birthday candles burning in his soul, David locked eyes with the destroyer of worlds and made his stand.
He would not be ignored.
He would not be broken.
This was his time.
David stood steadfast, began telling Thanos that he would rise up to the occasion and would not take it anymore. With every ounce of courage, David turned to the behemoth in front of him, this cosmic terror who was bent on ruining his life for… whatever reason… And would give him a piece of his mind.
But then, Thanos slapped the ceiling as if it were Chris Rock and burst a water pipe sending a torrential flood of rusty, freezing water pouring down, soaking everything in David’s crummy studio apartment—his furniture, his cheap birthday decorations, his one decent pair of shoes, and his new cat he picked up from the shelter after finally getting over the last one Thanos killed.
Thanos turned to leave. But just before stepping out the door, he glanced back over his shoulder, smirking as he uttered his final words:
“See you next year.“
And just like that, he was gone, leaving David floating in the ruins of his own birthday, wondering why he even bothered. But at least David now had his own indoor pool.
Why does Thanos do this? Some questions have no answers. What is the meaning of life? What lies beyond the edge of the universe? And, most importantly—why do Game of Thrones showrunners Benioff and Weiss keep getting work?
No one knows for sure. Maybe one of David’s ancestors bested Thanos in a duel centuries ago, and the Mad Titan has been enacting cosmic revenge ever since. Maybe David’s parents unknowingly committed the ultimate sin by cutting Thanos in line at a Starkbucks. Or maybe, just maybe, there is no reason. Because the truth is, Thanos doesn’t need a reason. He does it simply for the love of the game.
And that, more than his godlike strength, his mastery of the Infinity Stones, or his obsession with Death, is what makes Thanos one of the greatest trolls in comic book history.
