Disclaimer: "But, John, when the Pirates of the Carribbean breaks down, the pirates don't eat the tourists." No, I don't even own Pirates of the Carribbean, I'm a poor, soon to be college student. sigh
The doorbell chimed, rushing Pietro to the top of the staircase. "Lance, don't get that," he yelled; but it was too late as the rock tumbler cracked the door open a smidgen to see who it could be, coming face to face with a man dressed entirely in bright red and yellow.
"Is Pietro home," the Flash asked.
"Sure, PIETRO!"
"Shhhh," the Flash hushed, "if he's sleeping I don't want to wake him up."
"Wake him up? He's been running around the house since the crack of dawn. PIETRO!"
"No need to yell, Lance," Pietro quipped, suddenly standing next to the boy.
The Flash blinked. ' I must be loosing my touch, no one's gotten the jump on me in a long time'... "You're Pietro?"
"Sure am."
"You're awfully big for an 8-year-old."
"Well, duh, that's 'cause I'm 17 thank you very much. I can go to an R- rated movie if I want, one of the perks of being old, you understand."
"Um, I'm sorry," the Flash fumbled, "I must have gotten the wrong house. Is there another Pietro Maximoff living in Bayville?"
"No, he's the only one," Fred said. "Man, can you imagine what it'd be like if there were two of him," he held his head between his two massive hands.
"Hey, two of me would be twice as cute."
"So, you're really Pietro Maximoff?" Flash looked him over from head to toe, "What terminal disease do you have? I mean, if it's not too rude of me to ask. Pardon me for saying so but you look pretty good for someone who's dying."
"I'm dying of age," Pietro gasped dramatically, "If all goes well I'll make it to at least 80 but hey, if I get hit by a bus tomorrow that's the way the cookie crumbles," Pietro shrugged.
"I thought you said you didn't know how much longer you had to live," Flash accused.
"I did write that, yes, but think about it. Do you know how much longer you have to live? I thought not."
"You lying...I could be visiting one of those make-a-wish kids right now!"
"So they wait a bit longer, this is important."
"Really," the Flash crossed his arms over his chest.
"Listen," Pietro lectured, "You pride yourself on being the fastest man on the Earth and," he chuckled, "coincidentally that's what I'd like to call myself."
"Look, kid, I highly doubt that you are anywhere near as fast as..." he blinked, looking at the now present card table complete with place setting for one.
"You were saying..." Pietro prompted.
"Okay, fine, what do you want? A foot race?"
"More than that...you didn't happen to bring Superman with you did ya?"
"No, urgent business in his hometown."
"Crap, anyways, what I propose is a series of tests judged and created by these fine gentlemen you see before you and the lady of the house who is right now holed up in her room."
"I really don't have time for this, there's a lot I have to get done at home," Flash debated.
"Betcha I'll beat ya in at least three of the competitions, betcha you're scared to compete 'cause you know I'll win. I dare you to stay," Pietro spat.
"Ooooh, sounds like a challenge," Flash quipped. "Here's the deal though, I get to pick one of the competitions myself. My rules, got it?"
"Deal," Pietro held out his hand and Flash gave it a quick shake. "So, when do we start," he asked.
"Right....now," Pietro announced.
The doorbell chimed, rushing Pietro to the top of the staircase. "Lance, don't get that," he yelled; but it was too late as the rock tumbler cracked the door open a smidgen to see who it could be, coming face to face with a man dressed entirely in bright red and yellow.
"Is Pietro home," the Flash asked.
"Sure, PIETRO!"
"Shhhh," the Flash hushed, "if he's sleeping I don't want to wake him up."
"Wake him up? He's been running around the house since the crack of dawn. PIETRO!"
"No need to yell, Lance," Pietro quipped, suddenly standing next to the boy.
The Flash blinked. ' I must be loosing my touch, no one's gotten the jump on me in a long time'... "You're Pietro?"
"Sure am."
"You're awfully big for an 8-year-old."
"Well, duh, that's 'cause I'm 17 thank you very much. I can go to an R- rated movie if I want, one of the perks of being old, you understand."
"Um, I'm sorry," the Flash fumbled, "I must have gotten the wrong house. Is there another Pietro Maximoff living in Bayville?"
"No, he's the only one," Fred said. "Man, can you imagine what it'd be like if there were two of him," he held his head between his two massive hands.
"Hey, two of me would be twice as cute."
"So, you're really Pietro Maximoff?" Flash looked him over from head to toe, "What terminal disease do you have? I mean, if it's not too rude of me to ask. Pardon me for saying so but you look pretty good for someone who's dying."
"I'm dying of age," Pietro gasped dramatically, "If all goes well I'll make it to at least 80 but hey, if I get hit by a bus tomorrow that's the way the cookie crumbles," Pietro shrugged.
"I thought you said you didn't know how much longer you had to live," Flash accused.
"I did write that, yes, but think about it. Do you know how much longer you have to live? I thought not."
"You lying...I could be visiting one of those make-a-wish kids right now!"
"So they wait a bit longer, this is important."
"Really," the Flash crossed his arms over his chest.
"Listen," Pietro lectured, "You pride yourself on being the fastest man on the Earth and," he chuckled, "coincidentally that's what I'd like to call myself."
"Look, kid, I highly doubt that you are anywhere near as fast as..." he blinked, looking at the now present card table complete with place setting for one.
"You were saying..." Pietro prompted.
"Okay, fine, what do you want? A foot race?"
"More than that...you didn't happen to bring Superman with you did ya?"
"No, urgent business in his hometown."
"Crap, anyways, what I propose is a series of tests judged and created by these fine gentlemen you see before you and the lady of the house who is right now holed up in her room."
"I really don't have time for this, there's a lot I have to get done at home," Flash debated.
"Betcha I'll beat ya in at least three of the competitions, betcha you're scared to compete 'cause you know I'll win. I dare you to stay," Pietro spat.
"Ooooh, sounds like a challenge," Flash quipped. "Here's the deal though, I get to pick one of the competitions myself. My rules, got it?"
"Deal," Pietro held out his hand and Flash gave it a quick shake. "So, when do we start," he asked.
"Right....now," Pietro announced.