Colin Hanks Accidentally Summons Cthulhu While Trying To ‘Connect With His Roots’
Hollywood, CA – In a move that somehow manages to be both the most predictable and the most baffling thing any Hanks has ever done, Colin Hanks—the human equivalent of a “free-range, non-GMO” version of his father—has allegedly kicked off a minor apocalypse in his Laurel Canyon home. Sources confirm the 46-year-old actor, best known for his work in *Fargo* and for being the son of the actual nicest man alive, attempted to “connect with his paternal lineage” by performing a séance. He accidentally summoned an ancient cosmic horror instead.
Yeah. You read that right. Tom Hanks’s slightly less charismatic, but still aggressively pleasant, son tried to talk to dear old dad’s ghost. The problem? Tom Hanks is still alive. And according to a leaked 911 transcript, Colin was “trying to get in touch with the *spirit* of Tom Hanks the actor, not Tom Hanks the dad.” Because God forbid Colin just pick up a phone and ask for advice on his next mid-budget Netflix thriller. Instead, he decided to crack open a 15th-century grimoire he bought at a “very spiritual” Etsy shop run by a woman named Karen in Topeka.
“I just wanted to feel that energy, you know?” a visibly shaken Colin reportedly told paramedics. “The *Big* energy. The *Forrest Gump* magic. I wanted to channel the thing that makes him able to narrate a war movie and still make you cry. I did not want to channel the literal, writhing, multi-eyed chaos god of the void.”
But that’s exactly what he got. According to occult experts (read: a guy who runs a D&D podcast and a very tired LAPD detective), Colin performed the ritual perfectly. He lit the wrong candles, chanted the wrong names, and apparently used a picture of his father from *The Da Vinci Code* as the focal point. The result? A dimensional tear in his garage, right next to his Peloton. The being that emerged—described by witnesses as “a swirling mass of tentacles and teeth that smelled like burnt popcorn and regret”—has been dubbed “The Tom-athan” by local news.
Neighbors reported “a low, humming sound that sounded like the theme to *Saving Private Ryan* but played backwards.” Others described a “really intense feeling of being judged for not calling your mother enough.” The entity then proceeded to do what any self-respecting cosmic horror would do: it started critiquing Colin’s filmography.
“It just looked at me with all of its eyes and whispered, ‘*Orange County*? Really? That’s the hill you wanted to die on?’” Colin recounted. “Then it knocked over my signed *Cast Away* volleyball and started eating my vinyl collection. It specifically targeted my Wilco albums. That felt personal.”
The internet, as you can imagine, has been absolutely feasting on this. Reddit’s r/AmItheAsshole is currently split 50/50. Half the subreddit is ruling YTA for “summoning an unspeakable horror in a residential neighborhood during HOA quiet hours.” The other half is saying NTA because “his dad is literally the most beloved man in America and he still couldn’t get a solid bit of career advice from a deity.”
Twitter is having a field day. “Colin Hanks trying to summon his dad’s talent is like me trying to summon my dad’s ability to fix a leaky faucet. We both fail. We both get Cthulhu,” tweeted user @SadBoyComics. Another viral post reads: “Tom Hanks is at home right now like ‘I literally taught that kid how to tie a tie and he chooses to read a cursed book? This is why I’m nicer to the other one.’”
The “other one,” for the record, is Chet Hanks, who immediately released a diss track from his Miami mansion titled “Cthulhu Ain’t Got Nothin’ On Me.” It is, predictably, a reggaeton-infused banger that has already been played 12 million times on TikTok. The universe is a cruel, cruel place.
Local authorities are still trying to contain the situation. The LAPD’s Occult Crimes Unit (yes, that’s a real thing now, thanks to TikTok witches) has cordoned off Colin’s block. They’re attempting to re-seal the dimensional rift using a combination of sage, holy water, and a strongly worded letter from Tom Hanks’s publicist. “We’ve tried reasoning with it,” said Officer Miller. “We offered it a cease-and-desist. It responded by turning my partner’s service weapon into a live jellyfish. So that’s fun.”
As for Colin? He’s reportedly staying at a Holiday Inn Express near Burbank, issuing apologies and trying to explain to his therapist why he thought communing with “the great old ones” was a reasonable substitute for paid therapy. “Look, I just wanted to feel like I belonged in the family,” he said in a tearful statement. “I wanted to be a Hanks. Not just *a* Hanks. I guess I got what I asked for. Now I’m the guy who accidentally released a trans-dimensional parasite that demands to know why I wasn’t in *Elvis*.”
The being, currently residing in Colin’s garage and occasionally demanding sacrifices of La Croix and “good reviews for *The House Bunny*,” has not yet issued a formal statement. But sources say it is “unimpressed” with the current state of streaming content and is considering just going back to its dimension out of sheer boredom.
In the meantime, the rest of us are left to wonder: is this the dumbest thing a nepo-baby has ever done? Or is it the most genius PR stunt for a forgotten actor? Only time—and the eventual Netflix documentary starring Colin Hanks as himself—will tell.
Final Thoughts
Having watched Colin Hanks navigate the shadow of his father’s legend for years, it’s clear his real talent lies in the quiet, unglamorous work—his documentary "All Things Must Pass" and his understated turn in "Fargo" prove he’s more interested in craft than celebrity. He’s carved out a niche as a solid, reliable actor and a thoughtful filmmaker, which in an industry obsessed with flash feels almost subversive. Ultimately, Hanks may never be a superstar, but he’s earned something rarer: the respect of those who actually pay attention.