<div class="floatleft">(http://theoverse.net/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/agent-venom.jpg)</div><br/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong> Name:</strong> Flash Thompson/Venom<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Queens NY, Liberty Ave Amtrak Station<br/><strong>Time:</strong> 13:30<br/><strong>Taggings:</strong>  Anyone in the Area<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong> Civilian Clothes<br/><br/></span></span><hr/><div align="center">(http://subwaynut.com/ind/libertyc/libertyc3.jpg)</div><div align="center">(http://theoverse.net/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/Untitled.jpg)</div><br/>Flash Thompson sat in his wheel chair outside the elevator lift to take him down to the station plaza of Liberty Ave's Amtrak station in Queens NY. He was on his way to the heart of the city where he had scheduled meetings at three different banks to apply for a loan. He was nervous, being in countries who's names you'd never even heard spoken twice in the same decade facing off against soldiers and mercenaries was more comfortable to him then meeting with bank officials. Combat against the unknown hordes of the enemy was simple. It was like a football game, a decent strategy and enough determination was all you needed to win. But sitting in a stuffy office, answering questions about graph's and such intimidated him. Made him feel like he was still that dumb jock he was in high school. Liz Allen, his genius adopted sister, helped him draw up the plans. He needed the loan to keep his bar, The Horseman's Lounge, afloat. It isn't cheap saving the world so he's been taking money from his own bar to cover some of the expenses of his extra curricular activities. Now he needed the loan to repay what he had taken and do some needed remodeling which would hopefully attract new clientele.<br/><br/>He tried to put calming thoughts in his head to help him shake the nervousness away. Thoughts like how he would like to remodel the Lounge. He allowed his thoughts to ramble on until the elevator dinged letting passengers know it arrived at his floor. Passengers leaving the lift and getting on it shuffled around the handicapped vet. One man even pushed Flash's wheel chair out of the way so that he could board the elevator. The man even had the balls to grin at Flash as the elevator doors closed leaving the frustrated Flash right where he was before the doors opened. "Damn," Flash stammered while slamming his fist to the arm rest of his chair. He's probably inadvertently saved that man's life a dozen times and he couldn't even let Flash on the lift. This sort of treatment from people was typical for Flash. He considered it karma for the way he treated people when he was a teenager. He didn't expect any special treatment but is it special treatment to treat someone with courtesy?<br/><br/>By the time the elevator made it back up to him and carried him down the train he was hoping to board had already left. He had no other choice but to be late to his first meeting.<em>Well almost no other choice</em>he thought to himself.<em>I could duck behind one of these pillars somewhere, morph into Venom, absorb the wheel chair, and web sling it all the way. Then just find a place to morph back when I get there.</em>He looked down at his watch contemplating his options.<em>What would Spidey do? Oh what am I saying, if ole Spidey was standing outside of that elevator when the doors opened there would have been a whole harem of hot strippers in there just waiting for him. They would have dragged him in there and let him pound fuck the shit out of each of them one by one against the elevator wall while the crowd cheered him on. I'd like to see J. Jonah Jameson write that headline.</em>Focused on his fantasies about Spider-man's adventures with the Tenacious Titted Ten Teen Villainesses from the elevator Flash quietly sat waiting for the next train to arrive.