Eleanor Roosevelt’s disturbing collection of preserved, laminated hands.
An outsider from the start, young Franklin spent his youth traveling the dangerous and grass-coated landscape of 19th century Europe. He was frequently involved in complicated plots of international subversion and intrigue, having at age 10 unmasked Kaiser Wilhelm II as “just a man in a mask.” His only companions on this a-wandering were Mr. T, a hologram from the future, and a talking dog. Socializing only with the upper crust, FDR’s voice changed to reflect his journeys; by the time he’d entered boarding school in Groton, Massachusetts, he spoke with an accent that sort of reflected every place he’d ever been to. All the other students had basically the same eastern dialect (stressed “a,” almost silent “r”), and FDR had to adapt quickly, before his blue-blooded brethren brought a beating on his blond brow.
Proof that Roosevelt was a blond, and had a creepy mother.
Although Roosevelt suffered from that most crippling disease, polio, he managed just fine thanks to a series of ingenious inventions. To help him give the appearance of health to the peasants which tilled his farmland, a 1936 Ford Phaeton was retrofitted with levers and pulleys to create a Rube Goldberg device. While the original purpose of this machine is still unclear, its primary use was military in nature. Using this modified Ford, FDR was able to take the battle right to the Germans, plowing through their front lines like a chainsaw through butter. Bionic legs were used to a lesser extent, and were completely abandoned once the Manhattan Project completed work on the world’s first atomic hovercycle. Unfortunately, Roosevelt never took supernatural phenomena into account when conducting his numerous postwar expeditions into Northern Africa, and his entire family was petrified when he brought back a dormant Medusa egg.
“The Roosevelts have never been quieter since the Medusa incident!” says longtime family friend Hershel Gistoff.