There was a bouncer at Caritas tonight. That was... new. More to the point, it was an English guy who badgered Mike about their rules. Something about 'no capes, no powers, no heroics' or something like that. Mike didn't really follow
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"Peter was the spark, but the fight, for me, was self-defense. That, and rage at Norman for the years I spent in his shadow. Under his boot. In the end, it wasn't about Peter at all. Not for me. And not for Norman."
"Even in death, I am exactly the man you thought I was. The only difference in me now is perspective. I know how every foolish choice I made led me to this point and how inevitable it was, one way or another. Let that be your closure, Jessica. Know that I was always going to die thanks to rage and spite, and know that you would have never needed to act upon the rage and spite I gave you. Know that and be free."
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"You're right. You really are exactly the man I thought you were. The only thing is, I knew you thought you could play God. I had no idea you'd find a way to play-act as a guardian angel. So thanks for all of the clarifications about who I am and who you are and our independent motivations or whatever? But this? This is how I get my closure."
She walked toward the stage to slip the band some brain money in exchange for playing We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together as many times as the other patrons would let them.
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If she were being honest with herself, actually knowing what happened the night Doctor Octopus died did feel good. But she was a little drunk and a lot angry, so this petty Taylor Swift-based vengeance felt even better. At least, that's the way she felt when she walked out the door.
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Try to do ONE good thing and see what happens....
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