Dude, you totally ARE a hammer-bro, brah! You start throwing those 20 hammers around, but bean a stocky Italian plumber on the head. He bloops upward his full height, shrugging comically, then falls through the ground to his death.
You find youself several years later on death row. The priest is talking with you but you're not listening. Your mother sent you a cake and the guards let it through. You ate it, finding inside a large stone-and-plastic hammer that was able to get through the metal detectors. The priest leaves and you laugh maniacally, stroking the hammer and cackling "my precioussss ..."
As the guards come to take you to the poisoned hanging electric gallows where you'll have your picture taken before being shot by firing squad, you hammer them and flee. You get to the main prison yard, throwing your hammer about, but the merciless rifles of the men in the watchtowers drill through your shell and flesh. Raindrops patter down around you as you stagger forward, raising the dust, mingling your sour hammer-brother ichor with it.
The anti-death-penalty protestors outside stare in silence, their chants muted. They see you as you really are. And one by one they shake their heads and extinguish their candles. Finally only one young girl is left standing in the rain beyond the electrified razor-wire fence. The men in the towers have run out of ammunition and are arranging an old light machinegun on the roof of the warden's building.
The girl asks her mother if you're a bad man. The mother, wearing a shirt emblazoned with the phrase "THE STATE SHALL NOT KILL IN MY NAME", looks down at her and shakes her head. Then looks up at you, holds her daughter close, and says "He's no man. He's a monster."
As they leave, the girl looking back drops her candle. It's extinguished in the ever-growing pool of your lifeblood draining away. As your gaze rises you fall to your knees and the machine-gun begins stammering out its harsh litany.
I wish for some cookies!