November 25th, 2015: News Bulletin
Apr 18, 2016 18:26:13 GMT -5
THOR ODINSON and NATASHA ROMANOFF like this
Post by ☆ NPC ☆ on Apr 18, 2016 18:26:13 GMT -5
JOHN JONAH JAMESON
"Just look at it..." John Jonah Jameson walked into his newly refurbished, immaculate office, so immaculate, he could have walked out the window because the glass panes didn't even look like they were there. Spiderman would love that... It had been three months since Stark's toy soldier had been unleashed on the world, three months during which the chief editor of the Daily Bugle could have smoked himself into an early grave - only, not so much early. Jameson might have had the entire newspaper convinced (or so he believed) that he was pushing fifty, when in fact; he was pushing sixty... and one.
Between the gossip, rumours, panic in the streets (they were lucky) and the walking vibrator trying to bring humans to heel (because humans were the problem), to say Jameson had been put under undue pressure was an understatement. He couldn't even think of the amount of money that reparations to the Daily Bugle - because they weren't insured in the event of a robot army led invasion - had cost him. Could have been worse, the missus could have gotten her hands on his credit card again. But this! This was the real kicker! "What the... what the hell is this? Hoffman! Explain!" he demanded, and his personal assistant popped out of... wherever he popped out of.
If there was one good thing that could be said about Hoffman - and Jameson had very few good things to say about anyone, let's be realistic - then it was that he always seemed to be hiding around corners and behind doors, just waiting for his master's call. "This! What is this!?" Jameson repeated, pointing at the thing as if it were diseased, and it may as well have been.
"You mean, the 'No Smoking' sign, sir?" Hoffman questioned.
"What else?!" Jameson retorted.
"Well, you see, sir, smoking was banned, state-wide, in all enclosed workplaces in New York" Hoffman explained.
"What! Since when?" Jameson asked.
"Since... July, sir" Hoffman replied.
"Off this year?" Jameson questioned, and Hoffman shook his head, "Last?" he questioned again.
"It's not important, sir" Hoffman waved his hand dismissively.
"Too right it isn't important! As soon as you've gotten rid of... this, tell Brant I want her in my office! I want a four page spread on Ultron and Stark, if she can worm him in somewhere, and I want it by this afternoon!" Jameson commanded.
"Uh..." Hoffman mumbled.
"Problem?" Jameson questioned as he took to his desk.
"No, it's just that... well, Betty had a baby, and she's kinda busy at the moment" Hoffman explained.
"With what!?" Jameson asked, growing more and more impatient by the minute. He just couldn't catch a break.
"Well, the baby, sir" Hoffman pointed.
"They're portable, aren't they?!" Jameson pointed out, "Oh, never mind. You want something done right, do it yourself! At the very least, get Parker on the phone. He's sure to have gotten some pictures of this fiasco. I'm sure his bff was involved in some shape or form..." Jameson grumbled.
"Oh, and Hoffman, while you're dilly-dallying out there, look into... this!" his attention was quick to return to the 'No Smoking' sign on his desk. It was only a matter of time, "There's gotta be some loophole in building regulations or something that we can abuse, something to the sound of 'you're only permitted to smoke in an enclosed workplace with ten people or less'. We can afford to lose a few... fifty. I fire and unfire people all the time!" Jameson pointed out.
"I'll, uh... I'll look into it, sir..." Hoffman responded, less than enthusiastically. In the meantime, that sign could go right to hell. The chief editor of the Daily Bugle did not, could not, and would not write without his trusty cigar, lolling between his lips. And as he waited for his computer to start up, he proceeded to light up, breathing in the sweet scent of his loyal sidekick, before getting a start on the latest mess to befall the world. As always, at the hands of... them!DAILY BUGLENOVEMBER 25th, 2015
ULTRON
AND WHAT THIS MEANS FOR THE REST OF USBY J. JONAH JAMESON
Aftermath... a word that means so many things and at the same time only one thing: a boat load of money, that's what, and that's me being euphemistic, folks! If you, like me, recently fell victim to the pillaging and plundering of a pirate in robot form, you'll know what I'm talking about. Once again, the enhanced (and by 'enhanced', I'm referring to the size of Tony Stark's hubris) members of society have struck, and this time, what do they have to show for it? The Hitler of toasters, ladies and gentleman!
Not only has the manifestation of Mr Stark's ego cost us billions in untold damage control, AGAIN (you're not really buying all that rubbish about him contributing to the majority of repairs, are ya? Puh-lease!), on a more positive note, it seems to have served as the final nail in the coffin too (about damn time, if you ask me). The Superhuman Registration Act has begun to spread, and spread fast. It's already fast taking Europe by storm, sweeping across fifteen of the twenty eight member states.
Surprise, surprise, Ireland remains one of the few that has yet to get with the programme, since it's still busy wrestling with its own Draconian Laws. Not that I'm calling out Ireland, since we've taken our sweet time about it as well! According to my sources, the World Security Council and the United Nations are still, deep in talks, regarding the form the SHRA will take here in the United States. As evidenced by the regions where the legislation has already been born, and is slowly beginning to mature, it is set to target any and all individuals that have been enhanced by chemical exposure, or in terms of origin.
That's right, folks, so if you just so happened to stumble into a spaceship, and get caught in a radioactive storm, you're still subject to this little number (war veterans will not be excluded) too! From what we can gauge at the moment, it's a simple, cut and dry, sign your name and tick some boxes scenario. But just because it's been like that for the Europeans (and we all know what they're like), doesn't mean it'll be like that for us. Apparently you can get a job if you're useful enough. That's sure to solve the employment crisis, or lack thereof.
Given the propensity for these so-called superheroes to lose their minds in these parts, there's a chance (and let's all hope) the SHRA could hit the US of A a lot harder (again, let's all hope). Apparently, there's even talks of ousting S.H.I.E.L.D entirely, and rebuilding a whole new franchise - errr, sorry, I meant, organisation - from the ashes of... well, the entirety of New York city, it seems, AGAIN. This new ARMOR (Adjustment, Registration and Monitoring Operational Response) will take charge of the multiple facets of the SHRA, coming with its very own SHRD (Superhuman Response Division). Oi vey.. these acronyms, folks, I hear ya...
And if that ain't already an indication of how much more seriously we're going to take these walking crisis... crisises... crises... oh whatever! Then I don't know what is.
thanks brooklyn from caution and atf!
WRITTEN BY: Maggie