Jokestar:
Several mafia members in black business suits were busy in the middle of a conference meeting, discussing matters of drugs, sex trafficking, politics, and all matters of stereotypically evil things when someone came marching down the steps to their evil lair with slow, deliberate steps and maniacal laughter.
It was Star Lord, except something was terribly wrong.
Instead of his usual red trench coat, he now wore a purple trench coat with a green vest beneath. A scarf made out of a racoon pelt hung around his neck. His helmet was as white as a skull with a streak of red paint at its mouthpiece to resemble a pair of smiling lips, and the hair sticking out of its back was now messy and dyed green.
As he strode across the floor, he facilitated each step with the assistance of a cane carved out of Groot, despite not having any limp in his legs to justify wielding it.
"Who the hell are you? Star Lord?" asked the mafia leader.
"There's another name you might know me by . . . Jokestar."
"Who?"
"Jokestar, man. Legendary anarchist."
The mafia leader shrugged.
"Oh forget it. I'll just put this here." Jokestar placed a naughty magazine on the table featuring a topless woman whose nipples were replaced with spikes.
One of the men leaned forward to take a closer look. "Are those real?"
Jokestar grabbed the hair at the back of the man's head and slammed his face against the magazine on the table. Both of the spikes impaled the man's eyes and he ran out of the building, screaming at the top of his lungs and leaking blood from his eye sockets all the meanwhile.
"Don't read that! You'll go blind!" said Jokestar, pointing at the blood-soaked magazine on the table.
A bouncer came to apprehend him, but Jokestar lifted the brute with surprising ease and threw him upwards. There just so happened to be a meat hook on the ceiling, which caught on the bouncer's chin and impaled him through the top of his skull. He hung suspended on the hook, flailing about like a wacky waving inflatable arm-flailing tubeman and screaming like one of those screaming rubber chicken toys, and then ceased movement altogether, becoming limp.
His blood leaked all over the table below, ruining everyone's McDonalds Happy Meals. Now they were McDonalds Crappy Meals.
Jokestar performed a little dance. "Guess you could say he's HOOKED ON THE CEILING!"
"Somebody kill this space clown!" said the mafia leader.
All the other mafia members pulled out their puny pistols and aimed them at Jokestar.
"Let's not blow this out of proportion," said Jokestar, pulling back a flap of his trench coat to reveal a rocket protruding from an inner pocket."I've got a rocket in my pocket. Make one wrong move and we're all going on a rocket ride!"
"Now come on, there's no need for this," said the mafia leader, holding up his quivering hands in surrender. "We can make arrangements. What do you want?"
"I want you."
The mafia members turned against their leader, seized him, and shoved him towards Jokestar.
Jokestar held a mini-lightsaber knife to the man's throat and his helmet retracted into his collar, revealing a face suspiciously identical to Chris Patt, but with white makeup and red lipstick. "Have you been affected by the things that have transpired ever since The Snap?"
"Come on, man! That's no laughing matter! I've lost friends and family members to that crap!"
"I was there before it happened. I was there when the Avengers were about to take the Infinity Gauntlet away from Thanos' grasp. We were so close, but then I found out that my hot girlfriend, Gamora, had been murdered by this purple maniac. I let my emotions get the best of me. I decided that, if I must suffer the loss of a loved one, everyone else should feel the same way."
The mafia leader shook his head. "No! No you didn't!"
"Yes, it was I who broke Thanos from his hypnotic trance and made the Avengers lose their upper hand! The death of half the universe was my doing!"
"You monster!"
"And you want to know the worst part? I was certain that I would be counted among those fortunate enough to be vaporized by Thanos' judgement. Perhaps in another reality that may have been the case, but against all odds I survived. Now I live everyday with the loss of Gamora weighing down on my shoulders, and the annoyance of powerless freaks like you criticizing me for letting Thanos win."
"Of course we should criticize you! That was such a stupid thing to do!"
"Oh, but I'm not just satisfied with half the universe being wiped out. Oh no, that doesn't even begin to make it even with what I've endured. I'm going to make sure everyone has lost someone close to them." Jokestar slid the mini-lightsaber knife against the man's throat, but we don't get to see what happened, because the camera turned away to focus on the startled reactions of everyone else, and once it turned back, the leader became limp and fell free from Jokestar's grasp, landing with a thud against the linoleum floor.
"If you ever need to contact me, here's my card." Jokestar produced a joker playing card out of blue cosmic energy and threw it at a random mafia member, blowing the man into a gory explosion that splattered over the table, making everyone's McDonalds Crappy Meals taste even worse than before.
"Oh, and by the way, the rocket was a dud this whole time. April Fools, a-holes!" Jokestar gave everyone the middle finger and then dashed up the stairs as the mafia members whipped out their pistols and shot for him.
There was supposed to be a point to this story, but it has temporarily escaped the author's mind.