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“Who the fuck is this clown?” Quentin exclaimed, gesturing at the room’s most recent arrival. 

The mutant did have a point, that was for sure. America herself was confused, as despite everything she had seen during her travels throughout the multiverse, this was entirely new. This had been her first ever encounter with someone who shared her ability to hop between dimensions. To be honest, she had expected something different. Someone fearsome and all powerful! Least of all, not some two-bit punk. It took a few seconds to even take in everything about the guy. This guy, Pusher Man as Derek referred to him as, certainly had a weird idea of style, with the man wearing a mismatch of different types of clothing, from a purple fedora atop his head, to a long flowing cape with a fur collar. On his fists, the man wore what appeared to be a pair of high-tech gauntlets, no doubt having the power to deal a whole fistful of pain. 

“Name’s Pusher Man, dawg. You better respect or I’ll be givin’ yo a whuppin’” 

America realized in that instant that she had never wanted to punch someone in the face as much as this guy. Quentin seemed to share that opinion, with him giving America a look as if to say “Please tell me this isn’t actually happening right now.”

Wishing to get this over with, America stepped forward in an intimidating manner. “Ok [i]Chicos[/i]. I take it that you’re the guys behind the mutant growth hormone back on my Earth?”

“I thought that would be obvious, Ms America.” Derek proclaimed, moving back to sit behind his desk.

“Yeah, we’re know who you are, shawty” Derek’s adolescent friend chimed in politely. “And after we’re done with you m’ rep will be flyin’, you know what I’m sayin’?”

America felt embarrassed for herself that she even knew what he was saying. Did people seriously think that it is “cool” to speak like that? If it was, then America definitely didn’t want to be cool or anything of the sort. That’s not the only thing that confused her about this encounter. She nearly pinched herself to see if she was dreaming. This couldn’t be happening. Were the villains really monologing about their evil plan?

“So I met Mr B ‘ere, and told ‘im about my mad skillz.” Pusher Man explained, leaning back against Derek Bishop’s desk. He jolted forward however before continuing due to an irritated cough emerging from Derek who obviously wasn’t a fan of anyone touching his desk. “Sorry bruv. Anyway, back in da day, I was just a regular gangsta from the hood. Then boom! I’m a mutant! Teleportation powers baby!”

“Quite so. With my colleague’s abilities, we started our little side project.” Derek continued. “Selling Mutant Growth Hormone across the multiverse! How quaint! Pusher Man provided the first sample of the drug...”

“Yeah boi! Came across this shit ages ago! Was well crazy!”

“Then it was just a simple matter of recreating it. It was a flawless plan.”

“Until you came along, Shawty.”

Ms. America had had enough. Now, it was punching time. She moved forward, cracking her knuckles, intent on sending Pusher Man’s head flying off of his shoulders when Quentin stopped her. 

“Wait. Why’d you do this Bishop? Surely your wife wouldn’t have wanted this!”

What was Quentin doing? Why on earth was he asking about the man’s wife? And how did he know about her? America raised her eyebrow at the thought. Quire’s telepathic abilities must have started working again. She just had to trust that the mutant knew what he was doing.

The question certainly caught Derek off-guard too. He rose from his seat, moving around the desk and back in front of the two teenagers. The question had put a strange smile on the man’s face. He paused for a few moments in thought before letting out a small chuckle. Was this funny to him?

“You see, running a delivery business isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be! Sure everyone’s shopping online nowadays, but there are hundreds, and I mean hundreds, of other companies out there doing the exact same thing. Thought it was time to try something new” He explained. He paused again for a few seconds before continuing. “As for my wife? Well you’re right. The bitch didn’t agree. So I had her killed. Didn’t take much. Just a few faulty screws on the ski lift at her favourite resort in Boulder. Everyone believed that I was an accide…”

“How…How could you!” 

The sudden sound of the sobbing young woman surprised everyone in the room. Well everyone but Quentin. She was around their age, with dark hair and apart from the eyes which was now red and blotchy from the tears, a pale face. She seemed to have been training, evident by the yoga pants she was sporting and the purple tracksuit jacket. Evident by that, and the bow and arrow in her hand. America couldn’t tell which was more threatening. The sight of the notched arrow, or the furious look on her face. A quick smirk from Quentin clearly told America that he knew that she had been there in the doorway the entire time. And judging by her anger, she certainly wasn’t happy that her father had ordered her mother dead.

“Katherine… what… it’s not… it’s not how it sounds darling!”

“Shut it father. I’m going to fucking kill you!” Kate Bishop screamed, firing the arrow.