The stolen laundry van was parked in an alley behind Midtown, rain pattering off its rusted roof. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of wet lavender velvet, salt water, and Tony Stark’s two-thousand-dollar Macallan scotch, which Jack was currently drinking straight out of the crystal decanter.
GULP. GULP. AHHH.
"Refreshing!" Jack rasped, wiping a long smear of white paste and crimson lip balm across his sleeve. "Tastes like corporate tears and ninety-year-old oak!"
Across from him, Natasha was drying her hair with a fresh hotel towel, her emerald-green dress slightly torn at the hem. Felicia was sitting on a stack of folded sheets, using a silver nail file to clean the dirt out from under her manicured fingernails.
"You realize," Felicia said, looking over at Jack with a raised eyebrow, "that Tony is probably tracking that decanter via satellite right now?"
"Let him track!" Jack cackled, his boots kicking the side panel of the van with a loud THWACK. "What’s he gonna do? Send a bill to my Coney Island address?!"
Suddenly, the air in front of Jack’s vision flickered, dropping three degrees in temperature as neon-crimson text burned through his retinas with blinding intensity.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: SYNCHRONIZATION STABILIZED]
Current Synchronization: 21.0%
Status: Active Psychological Decay / High-Voltage Anesthesia
[NEW CHAOS QUEST CHAIN: "THE SUICIDE SHOWMANSHIP"]
Description: You've touched the Widow and flirted with Queens royalty. Now it's time to test the patience of New York's most dangerous deadly vigilantes and heroes.
[QUEST OBJECTIVES]:
"Kick Me, Frankie": Sneak up on Frank Castle (The Punisher) during an active combat zone and successfully stick a paper note reading "I ❤️ Clowns" onto his tactical skull vest (0/1).
"Bug Spray": Catch Spider-Man mid-air with a giant party streamer gun while yelling "Happy Birthday, Bug Boy!" (0/1).
"Shield Frisbee": Steal a slice of pizza using Captain America's vibranium shield as a serving platter (0/1).
[QUEST REWARD]: +9.0% Synchronization (Reaching 30.0%) + Skill: [Crowd Control Cackle]
Jack stared at the glowing crimson box. He blinked once, his bloodshot, black-smudged eyes widening until his pupils looked like pinpricks.
Then he threw his head back against the van wall and burst into a screeching, raspy, knee-slapping laugh that rattled the laundry detergent boxes on the shelf.
"HAHAHAHAHA! OH, SYSTEM! YOU BEAUTIFUL, MAD BASTARD!" Jack shrieked, tears of pure greasepaint leaking down his chalk-white cheeks. "STICK A NOTE ON THE PUNISHER'S BACK?! THAT'S NOT A QUEST, THAT'S AN ASSASSINATION BY PROXY!"
Natasha stopped drying her hair. She looked at him with her sharp grey eyes, her body instinctively tensing up.
"Jack," Natasha said quietly. "Who are you talking to? And why are you laughing like you just read your own death warrant?"
"Because I DID, Moscow!" Jack grinned, leaning his white-and-crimson face right up to hers, his breath smelling of expensive scotch and chocolate chip cookies. "I got a brand-new bucket list! And item number one is putting a cute little sticky note on Frankie Castle’s scary black skull!"
Felicia dropped her nail file onto the floorboards. "You want to stick a note... on Frank Castle? The guy who spent two hours shooting up Coney Island with armor-piercing rounds?"
"The very same!" Jack gasped, clapping his hands together like a delighted toddler. "He’s probably still wandering around my Funhouse mirror maze trying to fight his own reflection! We’re going back to Brooklyn, girls! We got arts and crafts to deliver!"
An hour later. Coney Island.
The Funhouse was dead silent except for the low hum of the remaining emergency lights and the occasional SNAP of a broken mirror shard under a heavy combat boot.
Frank Castle was standing in the middle of the Hall of Mirrors, his M4 carbine raised, his face covered in purple confetti and white zinc dust from Jack’s earlier flash-bang trap. He was furious, his jaw clenched hard enough to crack granite.
"Come out, clown," Frank growled into the darkness, his voice low and raspy. "I'm done playing games."
Up in the rafters, clinging to a rusted iron pipe right above Frank’s head, was Jack.
He had a yellow Post-it note stuck to his palm. Written on it in thick, messy red marker was: "I ❤️ CLOWNS (Shoot me!)".
Jack looked down at Frank’s broad, tactical-vested back. His [21.0% SYNCHRONIZATION] was buzzing in his ears like a choir of cracked bells, completely muting his self-preservation instinct.
Jack leaned down, his crimson smile stretching wide in the pitch dark as he whispered into the rafters:
"...dare to kick the Skull, Jackie... DARE TO TRY..."
Comments (0)