Welcome to the online home of the Genius Genus, the Ingenious Genius, those whom carry the Genius Genes. Do you believe in magic? Yes? Then piss off right now, because you're just a chicken nippled pony patter. There is no magic, only illusion created by people smarter and better than you. Formerly highly decorated Wiz Kids, they have blossomed into full blown Wizards of their respective skill sets, which are as diverse as they are death defying in their numerosity. They don't call them Superheroes, they call them contemporaries (except for Superman, he's just a wank off). The Blasterlings are the physical manifestation of a high-five, the sneaky reacharound and the open handed slap at the same time. A jumbotronic, cherub pissing fountain of wit biting reverse kowtowing with a difference. Pass us your apple and we will polish it to outer space for you.

All five members not only live outside The Box, but, in a Jesus-like medical miracle defying scientific explanation, they were actually born outside The Box. A team of A-Teamers, they know the secret to help the medicine go down and it ain't sugar. They followed the rainbow, killed the leprechaun (he put up a good fight though), used the gold to buy drugs, guns and illegal polar bear skin monk robes (complete with headpiece) and renovated the surprisingly large pot into a fully fledged arse kicking Think Tank. Having trouble visualizing them? Think Power Rangers but less gay. Think Ninja Turtles but better fighters. Think Brady Bunch but no one is related and they are all hot —and that's not a coincidence but a natural by-product of a steady diet of Genius for breakfast (because that is the breakfast of champions).

So relax in the knowledge that you are safe in the hands of the Gods. And we're not talking old, white bearded Gods in nighties, we're talking the old school Greek posse of sexy, and scantily clad, young Gods because that's something you can truly believe in.