Tentacles flailing, the alien smashed through the Bunker Hill Monument, its involuntary flight arrested in a shower of masonry. Dazed, it barely dodged the shower of acid that followed. Rubble dissolving around it, it threw itself upwards at its grey-haired, floating, opponent. The jump missed, but a tentacle locked on the red uniform, hauling the red-clad fighter towards the gaping maws. Claws slashed, cutting into the tentacle, and the creature hissed in outrage.
Lightning-fast, it flipped round, trying to drive the Earth native into the ground. The Charleston Naval Yard scrambled to evacuate, its preparations no match for the carnage as effortlessly Old Ironsides was swung from the water in a blaze of red and used as a club, batting the pair away from the dirt and up. The two entangled fighters tumbled through the air, out of control as more acid sizzled and boiled, dripping through the tentacles. Below them, the house of Paul Revere did not survive.
With a heave of red light, the tentacles were forced open from within. A glint of ginger hair was briefly visible beyond them before a giant cat's paw made of red light swatted the ginger alien out of the air. It tumbled, catching hold of a church spire that snapped off but slowed it enough for a single tentacle to lash back and send the victorious fighter smashing through the side of a skyscraper. Swearing emerged from the hole, a tone that left no doubt what its speaker intended, and then fell ominously silent.
The ginger-haired fighter pulled its tentacles back, sniffing the air as its eyes peered into the hole ready to ambush at the first sign of its rival. That this interloper would dare try to take what was its. It would teach it better manners.
The ground shook. Frantically the alien extended tentacles, hauling itself out of the hole and away as the crater inverted. Red light showed through the cracks like magma as its opponent erupted hissing and arrowed upwards to attack. The ginger teleported, its opponent soaring upwards through the space where it had been. Reappearing on the top of the bridge tower in a blatant display of threat, its most hated rival smashed into it with a flurry of tentacles and lights that knocked them both back off the bridge.
Twin splashes echoed.
The water erupted in red light as the red-clad fighter levitated itself onto the roadway, shivering and spitting. Tentacles wrapped the bridge support as the ginger catapulted itself from the river, slinging itself onto the asphalt. They glared at each other. The grey lifted a forelimb, licking it. The ginger's hind paw crept forward, scratched tentatively behind an ear. Simultaneously they turned their back on each other, flopped down and vigorous grooming commenced as they ostentatiously tried to out-ignore the other fighter.
#
On the deck of the helicarrier, Nick Fury put his hands on the rail, surveying the smoke rising from the rubble of Boston. Behind him, Carol Danvers stood stiffly to attention.
"And that, Danvers," he said, "is why you should have had one motherfucking litterbox per cat, plus one."