COLOR ME RED || MJ

1

Adrian Toomes and his coworker, Phineas Mason, are studying a child's drawing of the Avengers.

Toomes: Things are never gonna be the same now. I mean, look at this. You got aliens. You got big green guys tearing down buildings. When I was a kid, I used to draw cowboys and Indians.

Mason: Actually, it's Native American, but whatever.

Toomes: Yeah. Tell you what, though. It ain't bad, is it?

Toomes squints at the drawing and Mason nods.

Mason: No. Yeah. Kid's got a future.

Toomes: Yeah, well... We'll see, I guess.

Toomes looks up at the damaged Avengers Tower. Helicopters pass overhead.

Scaffolding covers the tower's lower floors. A roving view sends us into a ruined building across the street.

A clean-up crew works around a giant deceased Chitauri alien creature with pointed teeth. Alien artifacts lie among the rubble. Walking through the site, Toomes gives a worker a thumbs up. He turns to Herman Schultz, who is one of his workers.

Toomes: No, hey! Uh-uh! You can't saw through that stuff. These alien bastards are tough. You gotta use the stuff they use.

He picks up an alien object from the ground and uses it as a tool to break down the Chitauri chariot.

Toomes: See?

Schultz: All right.

Toomes: All right. (to Brice) Oh, hey! Glad you could join us. Afternoon.

Brice: Yeah. My alarm didn't go off.

Toomes: Yeah, yeah, yeah, your alarm. Look, just go stack that armor plating like I asked you. This is a huge deal for us.

Anne Marie Hoag, the director of the Department of Damage Control, walks into the salvage site with her crew.

Anne Marie Hoag: Attention, please! In accordance with Executive Order 396B, all post-battle cleanup operations are now under our jurisdiction. Thank you for your service. We'll take it from here.

Toomes: Who the hell are you?

DODC Agent: Qualified personnel.

Toomes: Look, I have a city contract to salvage all this, okay, with the city, so-

Anne Marie Hoag: I apologize, Mr. Toomes, but all salvage operations are now under our jurisdiction. Please turn over any and all exotic materials that you've collected, or you will be prosecuted.

The workers look puzzled. A worker slips an alien artifact that looks like a power source into his pocket unnoticed.

Toomes: Ma'am, what am I- Please. Come here. Hey, lady, come on. Look... I bought trucks for this job. I brought in a whole new crew. These guys have a family. I have a family. I'm all in on this. I could lose my house.

Anne Marie Hoag: I'm sorry, sir. There's nothing I can do.

Toomes is left to stare at her back as she leaves. Behind him, a Damage Control Agent speaks up.

DODC Agent: Maybe next time, don't over extend yourself.

Toomes looks around and grins.

Toomes: What'd you say?

He looks around at his crew of workers. Brice whistles.

Toomes: Yeah, he's right. I overextended myself.

Anne Marie Hoag, the director of the Department of Damage Control, walks into the salvage site with her crew

Worker: Don't do it.

Anne Marie Hoag: Put them down.

The agents lower their guns.

Anne Marie Hoag: If you have a grievance, you may take it up with my superiors.

Toomes: Your superiors. Who the hell are they?

We see a TV screen playing the news about Tony Stark and his contract with Damage Control. Toomes watches the TV with an angry look on his face.

News Anchor: A joint venture between Stark Industries and the federal government, the Department of Damage Control will oversee the collection and storage of alien and other exotic materials.

Schultz: So now the assholes who made this mess are being paid to clean it up.

Mason: Yeah, it's all rigged.

Mason is tinkering with the alien power source that one of the workers stole from the salvage site earlier that day.

News Anchor: Experts estimate there are over fifteen hundred tons of exotic material scattered throughout the tri-state area.

The glowing alien artifact is now connected to a motor with wires. The blades on the motor start to spin and the machine floats off the table. One of the workers pulls off a tarpaulin sheet covering a large piece of Chitauri artifact, revealing a dozen of glowing Chitauri energy cores.

Worker: Hey, chief! We still have another load from yesterday. We're supposed to turn this in, right?

Brice: I ain't hauling it.

Mason: It's too bad. We could have made some pretty cool stuff from all that alien junk.

Toomes stares at the truck full of alien items and makes up his mind.

Toomes: I tell you what, let's keep it. The world's changing

Mason lifts his magnifying goggles and looks at his boss.

Toomes: It's time we change, too.

8 YEARS LATER

The Rolling Stones' "Can't You Hear Me Knocking" is playing in the warehouse. Workers are moving piles of alien tech and tinkering with machines. Mason works on an elaborate rifle gun. Another worker fires a neon blast from an exotic gun. The blast shears a large item in half. Workers load piles of high tech weapons onto a van.

Cash pours through a money counting machine.

A figure wearing a flying suit with expensive metal wings soars toward the warehouse. Doors in the ceiling open and the figure drops crates of alien tech from the suits' claw-like feet. The helmeted figure comes through the roof and lands on the platform. He steps out of the wing suit and faces Mason.

Toomes: There you go, Mason.

The helmet opens, revealing Toomes. Mason grins.

Toomes: Business is good.