Must-read: How To Be A Movie Superhero

Get Drunk: The drunk part is easy: with a wad of fivers and a reliably-stocked Lidl within staggering distance, Bob's your pissed-up old uncle. To upset the locals by "helping", simply rent a stockpile of idiotically powerful tools then post flyers pimping your services as a free odd-job man. And keep drinking.

Superspunk: Chances are, no amount of dodgy spam email supplements or Sting-style tantric clenching will have you blasting your feculence through a caravan roof. However, we once heard a school rumour to the effect that bending your tumescence downward and releasing it at the, um, 'optimum moment' can help achieve some rather heroic distances.

Mind you, the only kid we knew who tried it managed to hit a hot lightbulb, filling his teenage bedroom with a truly ungodly stink that took several days to dissipate. Look, nobody said this was going to be glamorous. Have another drink.

The PR Guru: It costs a fair amount to hire a decent publicist, so try and save the life of yours, like Hancock does, to hopefully get some media guidance for free.

Failing that, base rates in Hollywood last year for a mid-to-high-level publicist are in the region of $3,000 to $5,000 per month. On top of that,
you'll have to be seen haemorrhaging cash (while behaving impeccably - do NOT have another drink) at all kinds of up-market bashes.

Irradiation: Gamma rays can produce thermal burn injuries and suppress the immune system. They also induce DNA alteration by interfering with a cell's genetic material. This is more likely to induce cancerous lesions than transform the subject into a scaled-up temper-tantrum alpha male.

Bulking Up: If you're really desperate for a fast-track route, steroid abuse is the only option. A not-so-healthy role model would be Greg Valentino, the man with the world's biggest biceps (28in). Be careful, though - Valentino is now the star of the Channel Five doc The Man Whose Arms Exploded.

Greenness: If you're white, you're already green - sort of. Natural Caucasian skin colour is a kind of greenish-grey. The pink coloration comes from blood beneath the skin. We 'turn green' when we feel sick, as the blood has drained, revealing the skin's true colour. So, just make yourself feel sick all the time. Or use body paint. Or get the colour tattooed all over.

Armour: In 1965, General Electric knocked up a prototype exoskeleton called Hardiman 1 that suffered “violent and uncontrollable motion”, according to their report. Given that it weighed the same as a car, they wisely scrapped it before attaching it to anything as squishy as a human.

A more refined version has now been developed by the (gulp!) Cyberdyne corporation: the worryingly-named HAL-5 units will be rentable from October for a cost of $1,000 per month, offering you much increased strength and, um, Bluetooth compatibility. Y'know, so you can soundtrack your rampages.

Flying: A company called Tecnologia Aeroespacial Mexicana would have us believe it produces “a complete turn-key package of a flying rocket belt, custom-made to the pilot's weight and body size.” Their rocket belt ain't too subtle - it looks like nuclear-powered turtle shell when strapped up - but they do offer full training and “24/7 expert support."

They also claim to supply “a special machine to make your own unlimited supply of rocket fuel”, which we can't help but think casts rather a dubious shadow across the whole $125,000 deal...

The Butler: Every Bruce Wayne needs his Alfred Pennyworth, acting as a surrogate and confidante (as well as whipping up a mean cheeseburger between villain-pummelling, obviously). Recently graduated butlers can expect to start in the region of $30-40,000, according to Dubai hospitality bible Jumeirah.

But you don't want any of those trainee nobs spilling your Tizer or walking in on you in the bath, do you? Expect to shell out somewhere in the region of $150-200,000 annually for a proper top-notch Jeeves, then.

The Suit: Batman's suit is a modified piece of infantry armour built by the applied sciences division of Wayne Enterprises. It's waterproof, bulletproof, knife-proof and temperature regulating: a bit like an air-conditioned cardigan-cardigan/tank.

His cape is cut from a special fabric that stiffens when hit with an electric charge, readying it for use as a glider. We're not talking Primark prices and in the new movie Wayne learns that his armour alone costs $300,000. On a budget?

Nab a lightweight bulletproof jacket for around a grand and a decent Kevlar helmet for half as much again.

The Car: Prototype military hardware is a bitch to get your hands on, so you might have to forgo the building-jumping, speed-camera-melting Tumbler from Batman Begins and The Dark Knight.

The next best bet is probably a pimped-out Humvee, with bulletproof silicon carbide armour plating and chemical weapon detectors. Mounted uzis and pursuit-hampering mechanisms can feasibly be added, but turning your wagon into a full-on road-running gun boat would probably cost about $2m and get you arrested.

The Claws: All the old adages about running with scissors are there for a reason - strap a trio of 8in blades to the back of each hand and, let's face it, you're going to do yourself a mischief sooner rather than later. But that's really the only way to go to get the desired blade-brandishing effect.

The best you could hope for is to opt for flick knives of some description, allowing you to deploy each individual enemy-skewer at the push of
a button (and also presumably making you quite popular at Mediterranean-themed barbecues).

Mutant Healing Factor: Again, a bit of a tricky one... There really isn't anything we've developed that even comes close to an accelerated immune system. All we can really recommend is stocking up on vitamins and minerals – echinacea's rumoured to be a good one for boosting those
antibodies and milk thistle is supposedly a decent pick-me-up in the event of, er, hangovers. Even mutant ones, probably.

The Horns: Easy! Empty cheese spread pots, paint them red like the rest of your face and wear them at a jaunty angle over each eyebrow. You
are now clearly from hell and people will treat you with infinite respect. As long as you remembered to clean all the processed cheese residue out first.

Fireproofing: Unlike the Hellboy movie, the original comic books didn't make any reference to their protagonist being fireproof, but hey – that's why films are better. Our research indicates that you're probably looking at about $400 for a set of nicely insulated, flame-resistant overalls. A protective hood would be about another $320, but then nobody would see your cheese pots, so sod that.

The right hand of doom: Since Hellboy's mutant mauler appears to be crafted from a mysterious red stone, the nearest equivalent we can think of would be common or garden plaster.

It's also supposed to be significantly larger than the wimpy left hand, so we suggest getting hold of one of those giant foam pointy-finger things. Dunk that into a bucket of plaster, paint it red, and get busy smiting. Your mates can write amusing slogans on the cast, if any of them are still talking to you now you've got old Dairylea cartons glued into your barnet.