ASGARD. PRESENT DAY

"Oh, good, finally someplace safe," asked Black Widow, stepping out of Heimdall's rainbow portal sexily. "Thor, what was all that fire and death?"

The depressingly beautiful thunder god grimaced.

"My apologies, fair Widow. Our journey to Asgard was to be simple, yet we were redirected momentarily to Muspelheim, the realm of Surtur the Fire Demon. I shall have words with Heimdall about this matter, for I know not how or why that might have occurred."

"Well, whatever, we're here safely now," replied the busty redhead, adjusting the zipper on the front of her skin-tight bodysuit. How the suit ever got on or off of her was one of the Avengers' greatest and best-kept secrets.

"A moment's delay I beg of thee, Natasha," said Thor. "I shall discuss matters with Heimdall, and we shall proceed to the Feasting Hall after."

He did not wait for her to agree but stepped aside into Heimdall's chamber, the starlight glinting off his silky blonde hair like some sort of sexy hubcap, polished to utter brilliance.

"Greetings, my prince," said the portal guardian, addressing the Odinson. "And my apologies for the events earlier. There is some powerful and bizarre magic afoot, interfering with the very curtain between worlds itself."

"'Tis powerful magic indeed, if it can alter the powers of the great Heimdall!" mused Thor. "Make certain to inform those who may research this, my good man. The Widow and I are off to the feast."

"Wait, Thor?" asked Black Widow, with a sour look. She was still super sexy, though. "Isn't this something we should figure out before we oh, I don't know, try to use magic portals that can literally throw us into Hell again?"

"Nay, fair Widow," said Thor with a seductive chuckle, walking towards the fantastic city. "These matters are best left to those with the gifts to understand them. Now let us make great haste, lest Volstagg drain all the mead before we arrive!"

With an apologetic and sexy shrug toward Heimdall, Black Widow turned and hurried after Thor, her high-heeled SHIELD-issued boots making almost no sound on the rainbow bridge.

MUNCIE, INDIANA. 1991 CE

"Ugh, what day is it?" thought the fat orange tabby, rolling over in his little red cat box. He took hold of the page a day calendar and reviewed the day of the week, "Oh, no, it can't be Monday again! We just had one of those last week. I hate Mondays!"

"Oh, Garfield!" sang out his sweater vest-clad owner. "I've got a surprise for you!"

"If it's not a nap, you can keep it," thought Garfield in response.

"I knew you'd be excited," said Jon, dropping a heavy box on the counter next to Garfield's bed. It had strange, indecipherable writing, and what appeared to be a drawing of a microwave on it. "Well, aren't you going to ask me what's inside the box?"

"No," thought Garfield, pulling his blue blanket over his head. "It's too early for this. And by 'too early' I mean 'before dinner.'"

"Well, I'll tell you," said Jon, with a ridiculous grin. "After I take a shower, that is. It was not easy to get this thing from the dump, and I'm filthy and exhausted. I'll set it up in the kitchen. You can have the box. Cats love playing in boxes, right?"

"Fat chance of that," thought Garfield. "But good riddance to Jon. Finally, some peace and quiet."

He went to sleep but was disturbed by a loud panting a moment later.

"What's going on?" he mused, looking up out of his blanket. The cream-colored dog Odie was inspecting the box with gusto.

"How can breathing be so loud and obnoxious?" thought Garfield, angrily. "It's a cardboard box, not a fire hydrant, you dumb dog."

"Bark!" replied Odie, licking Garfield happily with his giant tongue.

"YEECCHH!" was the cat's reply, and he wiped himself off with the blanket, wringing out a pint of slobber into the cat bed.

"Well, I guess I'll have to find someplace else to nap," he thought, wandering to another section of the counter and curling up.

He had been there only a few moments before a sudden and horrible, otherworldly shrieking caused him to jump into the air. He landed flat on his face with a big splat coming out.

"Ugh, I hate when Jon sings in the shower," he thought, plugging his ears until the noise abated. "Can this day get any worse?"

He crept back towards his bed to see if it had maybe dried out. He was leaning over the edge when he was startled again.

"Hi, Garfield!" thought a cute kitten, poking his head out of the box behind. Garfield leapt into the air again, crashing down. He spun around in anger, glaring at the box.

"Oh, Garfield," said Jon, walking into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. "I forgot to mention that Nermal is coming over. Oh, I see you found him!"

"Unfortunately," thought Garfield. Nermal pounced in and out of the box playfully.

"I wanted to ask if any of you heard that awful shrieking?" said Jon. "At first I thought I had left the radio on to my favorite yodeling program, but after a few moments, it was obvious that it wasn't that."

"Wait, I thought it was your singing?" thought Garfield, in confusion.

"I think it came from that new arcane microwave I got at the swap meet," said Jon. "Why don't we go have a look?"

"We may as well. Nothing can make this day worse," thought Garfield, as they all followed Jon into the kitchen.

Inside, the strange purple device seemed to be pulsating, and emanating strange magical energies.

"Hmm, I'll go get the manual," said Jon.

"That looks scary, Garfield!" thought Nermal.

"Not half as scary as the sweaters Jon wears on blind dates," thought Garfield, pulling a frozen lasagna out of the freezer. "I don't care. The real test is how this thing can cook a lasagna."

He slipped the cheesy meal inside and pressed a bunch of buttons. They were all marked in some unknown ancient language.

"Uh, Garfield," said Jon, looking up from the manual. "I think that you might want to be careful before using this."

It was too late. The device activated, and a swirling purple energy grew out from it, dragging them all screaming into an otherworldly abyss.

A moment later, the kitchen stood silent and empty.