[ He left it on the floor, after he'd dropped it, he didn't even want to fucking look at the thing. Mitch's normally tidy desk looks much less orderly, even after Electro's little sit-in, when he stood on his desk, that had been straightened up. Now the desk had papers everywhere, drawers pulled out, hell, he'd even tossed the autograph from Superman onto the top, with just a touch more care.

In his hands was a neon green...gun? It looked like a nerf gun. He wasn't taking any chances. ]

I don't care how small it is, even if it's a fucking ant, it gets killed, understand? I don't care if it's April's fucking raccoons, they don't come in either.

[ A beat, he knows he sounds crazy. ] Someone sent me message by pidgeon this morning. I'm not taking any chances.