Warren Gauss stared at his toaster in ultimate assurance. He knew that in a few short moments; warm, crunchy toast would sprout forth from the machine like divine mana, and that he would get to eat this wondrous permutation of bread, after a liberal coating of butter. This office drone knew that in his middle-aged state; he should probably watch out for unhealthy things like these, but he had a saying. "Better to die young with a good taste in one's mouth, than to live choking on fiber." It was a good saying, and it had sustained him for many years.

*PING*

Up came the toast; tan and beautiful as an Egyptian goddess. Cautiously, our hero grabbed the toast and put it on a plate nearby.

"Didn't even burn myself that time." He mentally mused, all while reaching for a butter knife in order to spread delicious, fatty goodness on the unadorned toast. When that deed was done, Warren stared at his creation. Our master chef wasn't done quite yet. After a short trip to the fridge; the toast received a liberal smattering of peanut-butter, followed by an even more liberal barrage of jelly. Eyeing this pearl of the breakfast table, the salesman knew that this was a thing that deserved to be eaten. He allowed it that privilege.

Walking out of his apartment, he checked his phone, which never failed to accrue text after text from relentless customers. Many were complaints about product shipments, others were requests to change orders. The "Thank You" note was like bigfoot; elusive, yet probably real. Warren left his apartment and headed for the Peerless Paste Company, his regrettable employer. The walk was short due to him finding the closest possible apartment to the squat office building. Ahead of him, in the distance lie the skyline of New York City. The explosions and all around chaos that the area was experiencing were probably another epic fight for humanity.

Warren was by no means against this kind of thing, as it would probably be harder to imagine life without it. Considering the blue lasers that would occasionally peek into the scenery, it was safe to say that Iron Man was today's protector of truth and justice. Though by the way the buildings would periodically collapse in a very messy and undignified death, it was possible that all of the Avengers were there. Warren loved to think about these things, being a quiet fan of superheroes since childhood.

The office worker made it to his destination; a grey building with a massive and eye-catching red sign that read Peerless Paint Co. Wasting no time entering, he made conversation with the way-too-young-to-have-this-kind-of-job receptionist.

"Anything interesting going on today, June?"

The girl dully looked back at the man and deadpanned, "Only another massive fight for the city."

With a hint of awkward nervousness, he replied, "Well... good then. Nice job."

Our hero then sat... and worked. All day. He may have stopped for lunch, or made a big sale; but that's unimportant, isn't it? Warren got off of work some time in the evening, with a major headache and the desire to watch whatever garbage was on TV tonight, he headed home.

Outside was mercifully beautiful, albeit hot and humid. Trudging home, the businessman could hear distant banging. It slowly got louder, and louder and finally, he just couldn't take it. He turned around. A crimson dot was approaching with definite malice. It batted cars and people away as insignificant pebbles, and looked bulky enough to do this.

Like a deer in headlights, Warren Gauss was staring down the Juggernaut.