The opening contains dialogue and scenes from Marvel: Civil War #1. All rights are given to Marvel so please don't sue me.
"Okay, how many super villains are we talking here Speedball?"
"Three, no, wait. I think I see Coldheart in the backyard emptying the trash. That's four of 'em in total, and all four of them are on the FBI's most wanted list, right?"
Night Thrasher frowned as he realized what situation he was in. Him... a man with no super powers was here with a team of... C-Listers? He didn't know who had written the list... whoever he was didn't really care about the feelings of the D-Listers. Anyway he couldn't believe that him and his team of Microbe, Namorita, Speedball, Bill Foster and... a camera crew were expected to take down 4 of the most dangerous super villains in the state.
"-Cobalt Man fought Spider-Man a couple of times and get this! Speedfreak almost took down the Hulk!"
That broke the camel's back.
"He what?!" Thrashed said with a look of surprise.
"These guys are totally out of our League, man. No way we sh-"
"Everyone! Calm down! You think this isn't bad enough already?! I don't even know why I'm here..." Bill said.
"But think of the ratings Goliath! This could be the best episode of the entire second season!" Speedball said with a grin. "Six months we've been driving around the Midwest looking for goofballs to fight, and the best we we've managed so far was a guy with a spray can and a wooden leg..."
"No. All you're concerned with now is how much your merchandise is selling for on E-Bay. This isn't what I came into the business for..."
"Uh guys..." Namorita said nervously. "Can we get started soon?"
"...Right. Okay Namorita. We'll start when you're ready."
"When the makeup crews have got that zit off your chin!"
"Uh... guys..." Microbe said as he looked through his binoculars. "I think we've been spotted..."
Night Thrasher watched as Coldheart dropped the trash bag and ran into the house.
"Okay guys..." Speedball said with a chuckle. "GO!"
"Make it rain my friend..." The bartender said as he passed Dwayne a glass filled with Cider.
"Make it rain..." Dwayne said as he drank the glass in one gulp.
"Y'okay Dwayne? You seem quiet tonight."
"I... forgot what day it was..." Dwayne said as he looked into his glass.
"Oh... Stamford Memorial Day. Yeah... freaking Superheroes... don't know when ta quit."
"I guess we're lucky nothing ever came out of that..."
"If ya ask me... they should go out and lock up all those freaking Avengers in their tower and what not..."
"Night Thrasher." A voice from the door said angrily.
"We need to talk." Penance said.
"Aren't you supposed to be with the Thunderbolts or something?" Dwayne asked as Penance sat down next to him.
"That's not important. What IS important is what's happened to you recently."
"And what's that?"
"This!" Penance said as he looked around the room. "You're hanging around with the people that you used to hate! Strippers, Drug Dealers... SCUM!"
"I'm no better then any of them..."
"What happened in Stamford WASN'T your fault!"
"Over 600 people are dead because of me Robert. I don't get to walk away from that... but I did."
"I'm not going to let you blame yourself for MY mistake!"
Penance sighed as he stood up from the chair.
"Do you really think this is what you should be doing?! Sitting here spewing in self pity?! Do you think this is the best way to apologize for Stamford?! If so... you're not the same man I once thought you were."
Penance kicked the door open on his way out.
"Remember Dwayne. You're not the only person to blame..."
"Freaking Superheroes!" The bartender said as he scrubbed his glass clean. "Stinking up the place!"
"Hey! Somebody help me!" A man screamed from outside the entrance.
The bartender didn't even look up. "Sorry pal... can't help ya."
"help... help me... please..."
"Look! I SAID I CAN'T-" The bartender started to yell.
"help you..." The bartender said as Night Thrasher stared at him.
"Make it rain pal." Night Thrasher said as he smashed a thug's nose in.
The bartender watched in stunned silence and horror.
"make it rain..." He muttered back.