The rain off the Atlantic was relentless, hammering against the rusted iron roof of the Coney Island Funhouse in a rhythmic, torrential roar.
Inside, the grand hall was bathed in an eerie, pulsing electric-blue glow.
Sitting right in the middle of the main stage—where an old fortune teller's booth used to be—was the Chitauri energy core. It hovered inside a improvised copper-and-lead containment ring that Natasha had spent the last three hours soldering together. Thick, heavy-duty power cables snaked out from the core like black veins, running up to the ceiling rafters and connecting directly into a massive, jury-rigged radio-and-television broadcast transmitter.
Felicia leaned against the edge of the stage, adjusting her night-vision goggles up onto her forehead. She wiped a smudge of grease off her cheek, staring at the glowing alien artifact.
"I still can't believe we're using a piece of alien invasion tech to hijack public television," Felicia said, shaking her head with an amused sigh. "Tony Stark spent forty million dollars building satellite dampeners to block rogue signals in Manhattan, and you're bypassing it with scrap copper and alien battery acid."
Natasha stepped back from the core, setting down her soldering iron with a crisp CLINK. She was wearing a tight black tactical tank top, her dark red hair pulled back into a high ponytail, her steel-grey eyes reflecting the intense blue light of the core.
"It's not just bypassing Stark's dampeners, Felicia," Natasha said calmly, her voice echoing softly off the plywood walls. "The Chitauri core operates on a sub-quantum resonance frequency. Once we throw the main breaker, this signal isn't just going to broadcast to televisions. It’s going to hit every smartphone, digital billboard, taxicab screen, and Stark Industries smart-display within a fifty-mile radius."
"A complete city-wide blackout of information..." Felicia purred, her eyes lighting up. "...replaced entirely by our resident clown."
"Not a blackout, Kitty!" a raspy, unhinged voice echoed from above.
THUD!
Jack dropped down from the high steel rafters, landing in a perfect three-point crouch right beside the glowing core.
He was in full war paint again—fresh, chalky zinc paste covering his skin, thick smudged black raccoon rings around his eyes, and the crimson lip balm dragged ear-to-ear in a wet, menacing scar of a smile. He was wearing his stolen lavender velvet jacket over his bare, bandaged chest, his [35.0% SYNCHRONIZATION] humming behind his skull like a live nuclear reactor.
His bloodshot eyes were glowing with a terrifying, electric-blue spark that matched the Chitauri core.
"It's not a blackout!" Jack cackled, popping up like a jack-in-the-box and tossing a stole brass microphone from hand to hand. "It's a PRIME-TIME SPECIAL! The whole town has been stressed out, girls! Stark's giving speeches, the cops are giving tickets, the Punisher's shooting up alleys... New York needs a good laugh!"
Natasha walked up to him, stopping right in front of his chalk-white face. She didn't recoil from the greasepaint or the sharp scent of copper and peppermint drifting off him. Instead, she reached out, her fingers gently adjusting the collar of his lavender jacket, her grey eyes locking onto his with a quiet, dangerous warmth.
"You realize what happens when you flip this switch, Jack?" Natasha whispered softly, her voice barely audible over the hum of the core. "Every hero, S.H.I.E.L.D. strike team, and mobster in New York is going to lock onto this location in less than ten minutes."
Jack leaned down, his crimson smile stretching wide against her cheek, his breath warm against her ear.
"Let 'em come, Moscow..." Jack purred rasply, his chest vibrating with a low, bubbling hehehe. "...they bought the tickets... now they get to watch the show."
He reached out, his gloved hand sliding over Natasha’s waist, pulling her close for a brief, intense second before turning around and grabbing the main heavy-duty power breaker lever mounted on the wall.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: REGIONAL CHAOS EVENT]
Action: Initiate City-Wide Sub-Quantum Broadcast ("The Joker's Comedy Hour")
Target Area: Greater New York Metropolitan Area
Warning: Triggering this broadcast will initiate maximum hostility response from S.H.I.E.L.D., The Avengers, and local law enforcement.
Jack didn't hesitate. He threw his head back, let out a screeching, raspy cackle, and slammed the heavy iron lever all the way down!
CLICK-CLACK-BZZZZZZZZT!
The Chitauri core erupted into a blinding, magnificent flash of cobalt-blue light! The heavy copper cables hummed with immense power, and up on the roof of the Funhouse, the giant twenty-foot papier-mâché clown head began to spin as its high-voltage antenna shot a beam of sub-quantum energy straight into the dark Brooklyn night sky!
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