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"Police investigations for the mysterious Scourge are on go--" Click. "were apprehended by the Hulk on the Staten Island Ferry--" Click.

"Nothing on the radio but news and boy bands." Howard grumbled to himself. He rolled his cigar from one side of his bill to the other, and took hard drag off it. He was working as a cab driver in New York again. It wasn't the best job, but the work was consistent. Even if you were a four foot tall anthropomorphic talking duck. Working for ARMOR had paid nice, but only served to prove what Howard already knew about himself. He wasn't a hero, he was just working Joe.

Traffic had gone from barely moving to a dead stop, and didn't look to pick up any time soon. The sun beaming down was hotter then Hell, and Howard would know, having tossed back drinks at a bar in Hell. He wanted a glass of brandy. "Scratch that, make it two brandies." He thought out loud. To be off duty throwing back a few brandies.

He glanced out the left window, bored, down an ally way. That's when he saw the woman backed against the dirty wall of the ally. A couple of teenage punks harassing her. One held something to her throat. Probably a knife. Howard quickly looked forward, before the woman could make eye contact, and he did something stupid.

"Nope." He said to himself. "Not getting involved. I'll just scare her worse then she is already, I won't get thanked for stepping in. In fact, I'll probably get blamed by the lynch mob that will randomly appear. And she'll get mugged same time tomorrow." Traffic moved forward about two inches then, and he drove forward accordingly. Not far enough though. He could still see the woman and the punks out the corner of his eye. "This is New York, more heroes then we need. Someone will come along, like Spider-Man."

Traffic moved forward half an inch, but Howard didn't move. The honks of frustrated drivers began immediately, along with the curses and the shouted inquires as to the extent of his ability to drive. But this was New York, honking and insulting were a part of driving, and Howard barely heard it. Opening the glove compartment he pulled out a small six shooter revolver. He was gonna do something stupid.

Howard shut off his cab and removed the keys. The traffic wasn't moving enough for someone to steal it, but still.... He stepped into the ally, hot, overhung, and annoyed. The gun was almost overkill.

"Hey! Juvi hall! Why don't you leave the lady alone and get lost before I put a webbed foot up your @ss."He had helped save the universe, and had dealt with way more dangerous situations. This one should not have proven too difficult. Which almost guaranteed something would go wrong.

"Holy sh!t. Its one of those freaky little people. Where the hell you come from." The punk didn't seem to notice anything off about Howard except his size. He was used to that. Most people just blocked his duckness out of their minds.

"Cleveland." Howard sneered, and waved the gun in the air for effect. "I can see you're the deep end of your gene puddle. So let me help you out Bright Eyes. When the talking duck waves a gun at you, you and slack jaw there take a hike. Questions?" Punk number 2 steeped from behind his friend and raised his own gun, and fate once again showed her utter contempt for Howard as he was shot twice in the chest.

'I hope my tab is still open in Hell.' Was his last thought.