[Strange is sitting in some kind of dank-looking bar. In the background, there's music from some terribly outdated jukebox. Half-visible to the comm (and partially obscuring the view of his face) is a tall glass of something alcoholic and cheap. What better way to celebrate your birthday, no?]
In another hour I'll be 81, or rather, two thousand
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Thank you, Spider-Man.
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I didn't know you liked PinkBerry that much.
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I don't. When I arrived here, my Sanctum had been turned into a yogurt shop. I made it my business to re-acquire the property.
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Darn. I was hoping it was a midlife crisis. 'Cause if you're having a midlife crisis, you can't be old, right?
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Uh, but anyway. What I'm trying to say is, you're only as young as you feel. Well, act. Well ... okay, work with me here.
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[Peering.]
You okay over there? It's just ... you seem kinda ... the last time I saw a teammate this grumpy was when Wolverine -- huh, come to think, that was his birthday, too. I guess if any demographic has reason to get grumpy drunk on their birthdays, it'd be quasi-immortals...
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