Disclaimer: Not only do I not own any aspect of X-men Evolution but I also don't own the Justice League, isn't that sad?

Mr. Flash:

It has come to my attention…

"No."

I'm aware that…

"Oh, forget it," Pietro exclaimed, " I'll do this the easy way!"

Dear Mr. Flash,

You are my favorite super hero because your power is way better than any of those other losers in the Justice League. Not that you're a loser…and I'm certainly not insulting your friends/comrades in arms. What I'm trying to say is that I was hoping you could visit me since…

"Here comes the tear jerker."

I don't know how much time I have left before I die. It would mean the world to me if you would do this for me.

"What a piece of crap," Lance exclaimed. "There's no way you are going to pull of being a Make-a-Wish kid. And you are definitely not dying."

"How do you know, Lance? I could die tomorrow if something unfortunate were to happen to me."

"Want me to be that something unfortunate?"

"No, but I would like you to tell me how I should end this. What's an interesting way of saying that I think he's the coolest person ever…besides me that is."

"Hm, how about 'You rock my socks'."

"I am not putting that in a letter to a virtual celebrity. It sounds dorky."

"Suit yourself. I'm going to see what Toad's up to." Pietro thought for a moment before finally writing:

You rock my socks,

Pietro Maximoff

"There, done." He quickly placed it in an envelope, placed a stamp in the corner and wrote the Flash's address in the center. He also stuck a return address label on it, just in case. "I hope he comes."

"Hope who comes," Freddy asked.

"Only the coolest person in the world!"

"Mrs. Field's?"

"No, the Flash!"

"Why do you want him to come here?"

"So I can prove once and for all that I am the fastest person on the face of this planet."

"Your funeral," Blob said simply.

"What do you mean it's my funeral," Pietro asked.

"I'm just saying that the Flash is a well known superhero and.."

"So, just because I don't have my name on a 'good guys most wanted' list that he is automatically faster than me?"

"No," Blob defended, " I just don't want you embarrassing yourself. You know how sensitive your ego is."

"Well, Blob, I'll have you know that my ego is quite secure with itself and I'm going to run the pants off the Flash."

"I hope you don't mean that in a literal sense," Lance told him.

Pietro gave Lance an odd look. "Why would I mean that in a literal sense?"

"No reason," Lance trailed off. "Anyways, you might as well tell him to bring Superman along while you're at it."

"Why?"

"Because then you have something to compare your speed to. He's faster than a speeding bullet so, therefore, the Flash must be even faster than that. If you can't beat the Flash maybe you can still say you're faster than a speeding bullet."

"I guess," Pietro replied, pulling the letter out of the envelope and adding the post script. "There, now I just gotta mail this sucker and wait for a reply."

"Provided the Flash reads and replies to his own mail," Freddy mused, " You should get it back in however long it takes the post office to deliver letters back and forth."

"Aww, man," Pietro whined, " That could take forever!"

"Fine, than e-mail him," Lance snapped. "We don't really care as long as it shuts you up."

Pietro considered this for a moment before shaking his head. "E-mail's so impersonal, you got to type everything out and in the end it doesn't matter how perfect your handwriting is because what they see is all standard issue. That may be fine for people with chicken scratch like Toad, but my penmanship is beautiful and I want the Flash to see how much better it is than his own." He sighed, " I guess I'll just have to snail mail it and bide my time."

A few weeks later…

"Hey, Pietro, " Todd waved a large envelope in the air, " You've got mail."

"Took him long enough." Pietro zipped over and snatched the parcel from his amphibian friend. He quickly ripped it open and pulled out the contents from within. "Dear Pietro," the speedster read, " Your letter was incredibly flattering and I appreciate your faith in my abilities. I am currently fighting alien invaders from the planet Thorax but will give you a ring as soon as I can. – The Flash." Pietro shuffled the letter to the back, revealing a giant photo of the Flash himself. "To my favorite junior speedster, Pietro. Your friend, The Flash."

"Junior Speedster," Pietro fumed. "Who does this guy think he is? And this picture it atrocious. He should kill whoever thought of putting him in a red costume with yellow accents. Not to mention he presumes to have a bigger ego than myself. Ha!" He zipped the photo up to his room and faced it toward the wall, pointed toward a giant mural of Pietro's face, which took up the entire wall.

"What do you think of that? Did it myself in a half hour. Bet you don't have one of these in your house with your face do ya? Ha!" He shuffled the papers once again, half expecting a group shot of the Justice League but was instead met with another piece of lined parchment. "Look outside, Little Buddy, -The Flash" was written on it in gold ink.

A second later the doorbell rang. "Oh my Jewish God no…"