Here's the newest chapter. Sorry it's a little late, but hopefully it'll make up for the brief absence. This time it's about the 'aftermath' of the party. Hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the forms you see in this story. They belong to the Formal Notices: From The Bureau of Communication by Joshua and David Keay. Actually, I don't even own the book that I'm getting these from; that belongs to my sister, who is letting me use it for our own amusement /smiley face. I also don't own The Avengers, who of course belong to Marvel. I think that's it.
Warning: Obviously, the original formatting of these forms won't hold up in Fanfiction dot Net court, so I've tried my best to make it understandable. Since the forms are fill-in-the-blank originally, any part that is underlined is something that was 'filled in' by the character or characters mentioned. Anything that is bolded and underlined is one of the options chosen by the person or persons filling out the form when applicable. Anything in (parenthesis) is instructions given by the form for options to choose when filling in the blank. I left these in because they are hilarious.
Because, after all, S.H.I.E.L.D. is still a bureaucratic organization.
IGNORE THIS NOTICE AT YOUR PERIL
Having repeatedly warned you of the consequences of trying to steal/kidnap our bestie/teammate/good friend.
Having suffered the pain of your ignoring our warnings and trying anyway.
Having exhausted every reasonable measure in dealing with you.
Having been thwarted in all my attempts to live and let live.
Having accepted that you are an annoying douchebag.
Having been insulted by your very existence and continual existence.
Having put up with you invading our home to harass our family member and involve civilians in your petty conflict.
and Having seen no change in your behavior:
IT IS CLEAR THAT THE TIME FOR DIPLOMACY HAS ENDED.
THEREFORE THROUGH THIS OFFICIAL NOTICE
I FORMALLY
DECLARE
WAR
Although it is true that my warmongering may be
constrained by my natural and ample wells of
compassion and moderation, a deeply rooted habit of
chivalrous conduct, and a persnickety obedience to the
minute strictures of international law, Let it be publically and
privately known that despite my compunctions, I still intend to
embark vigorously, without delay, and with single minded focus to:
GRIND YOUR BONES AND REPUTATION INTO DUST AND
SMASH YOUR BANK ACCOUNT AGAINST THE INTERNAL REVENUE SERVICE AND
WIPE THAT FACE OFF YOUR FACE FOREVER.
Without your timely capitulation I will have no choice but to lay waste to your
business and personal affairs, to confound all your enterprises and relationships, and to
take great enjoyment in destroying and despoiling the things you love the most.
For your sake, therefore, I advise you to render your complete and abject submission to me,
including pathetic and profuse pleas for mercy, and begging me to slake my righteous anger.
Additionally, you would be well advised to make a peace offering of your full and complete resignation from the armed services
and to perform seppuku (Tony, stop; we're not going to make him kill himself/oh, fine) extortionate amounts of charity before I can express the full measure of my wrath.
Otherwise, Face Destruction, In Every Sense of the Phrase.
Thank you for your prompt surrender.
Please refer to the various Geneva Conventions RE: Legally Permissible and Allowed Mayhem and Destruction.
General Ross hurried down the halls of the Pentagon, snatching every single Form that he could carry. It didn't quite work, however, as the walls were practically plastered in the damned things. It was all he could do to keep his superiors from finding out about them as well as his latest fiasco with the Hulk Buster Unit in New York. It should have been a simple retrieval mission. The playboy billionaire was hosting a party at his tower and the place was swarming with guests. It should have been easy to go in, take a hostage and trade the hostage over for the beast. How was Ross to know that only freaks were in attendance?
Luckily for Ross, though, he had his subordinates combing the building to help take down the fliers. Obviously these 'Avengers' weren't really going to 'declare war' on him. He was a General in the American Army, a hero. The government wouldn't allow such a thing to happen, particularly when the general was doing his job of keeping the country, and even the world, safe from that monster.
But, if there was one thing that General Ross knew it was that image was everything. Somehow the 'Avengers' were public heroes and icons. Even the great Captain America was a part of them. It would look bad for him if the general public, and his superiors, found out that these so-called 'heroes' had 'declared war' on him. Image was everything.
This was part of the reason why Ross couldn't understand how a great hero like Captain America could even side with that thing. Obviously he must be misguided; he and Ross were on the same side, after all. They were both fighting for the freedom and safety of their great country, and to do that Ross had to take out America's greatest threat. As America's Captain, surely he could understand that, right?
With his arms stuffed full of the stupid Form, General Ross swept into his office with a great sigh. It took some time out of his schedule, but he was sure that he had taken down all of those things. He was just starting to feel good about himself when he turned fully towards his desk and saw his direct supervisor sitting in his chair.
"Sir," General Ross gulped. He dropped the Forms that were still in his hands, letting them flutter to the floor. He wet his lips nervously, eyes darting around the room. "Wh-what are you doing here?"
His boss stared at him sternly before pointing the remote to Ross's television on the wall and turning to the local news station.
"-not much is known currently about how General Ross is responding to the Declaration of War from the Avengers and the army is refusing to comment. Sources say that the decorated general attacked a private party held at Avengers Tower in celebration of opening a new food shelter for the poor-" His boss clicked the television off, glaring at Ross. Ross spluttered, not believing what he was hearing.
"That's all a lie!" he protested. "There was nothing about 'food shelters' or anything like that going on at that party!"
"It doesn't really matter," his boss finally said, standing up and pushing away from the desk. "Stark Industry's CEO has released a statement saying that they were, and all of the paperwork is in order so it's really your word against theirs. But that's not what I'm here about. I'm here because you sent in a team to infiltrate and attack a private residence that you knew full well was filled with civilians. The only ones allowed in this country to do such a thing would be the regular police departments or the FBI and neither would attempt such a thing in the manner that you did!"
"But I-!"
"I'm not done, Ross. You will issue an official apology towards not only the Avengers and the people of New York but also toward Dr. Banner. You will wash your hands of this 'Hulk Buster Unit' and be done with it. Intelligence has decided that he's no longer a threat and will be left alone. Do I make myself clear?"
"But sir!" Ross protested. "You don't know how dangerous he is! Just one slip up-!"
"I said, do I make myself clear?" his boss said in a dangerously soft tone. Ross tensed and grit his teeth, but he knew when to give up.
"Yes, sir."
"Good," his boss said as he walked towards the door. Before he left, he had one thing left to say. "Oh, and Ross? When you issue your apology to the Avengers, I would suggest that you also offer your 'surrender' as well."