It was a very sunny day when Marshall decided to join Kennedy on his car ride. He had received his big plate of barbecue, and he was content. In front of the car, Marty walked with Cosmo barking from his head.
"The Soviets had it coming after what they did to that poor dog. They're cracking at the seams now anyway. But let's be honest, none of this would've happened without our space race pushing everybody. Still burns me that only Dinosia has a moon base while we're still stuck kicking dirt down here."
Chomp!
Marshall gobbled on a rib, slurping the bone marrow. "Huh? You sayi-gh… dat… Dino-slurp… ain't sha-wring… tesh?"
"..."
"I… Dinosia isn't sharing tech? No, not that I know of, First Man. We haven't received anything." Kennedy replied. "Are they supposed to?"
"No idea. Odin's tits! This is good," Marshall declared and kept eating while the car moved.
Tap!
But then suddenly, he felt something pinch his head on the side. He grunted in annoyance.
"Damn flies."
Tap!
Again, something pinched him.
"Annoying shit."
Splash!
Then suddenly, his entire massive plate of juicy meat toppled. It took him a second to get what had happened, as he saw a gunshot wound in Kennedy's leg. His head snapped towards the nearby tall building right away.
"Who dares wreck my goddamn lunch!"
Woosh!
Marshall flew up with fury. It was already chaos everywhere as the Secret Service realized that the President had been shot. The car sped away quickly into a safe place, then Kennedy was transferred into a secured, roofed car, and then taken to the hospital.
Marshall, meanwhile, rammed straight into the window of the building. He didn't need to know anything; he could smell the damn gunpowder with his superior nose; he was a god after all. Didn't help when the attacker was praying to God as well.
Boom!
"You!" Marshall boomed, shattering through the window. "Who sent you to ruin my lunch? Who?!"
"I-I… I…"
The scrawny man kept stuttering. Marshall, not having any of it, walked over and grabbed the man by the skull, his fingers stretched. He lifted the man with ease and read everything in his mind.
"Russian? Them red motherfuckers again?" Marshall cursed and squeezed out all the information possible. He knew the face, the name, the place.
"Sir!"
"First Man!"
Right then, the nearby door burst open and Captain America, with his missus, Agent Carter, stormed in, both dressed in their hero costumes, both tall and muscular super soldiers.
"Catch, pretty boy!" Marshall threw the assassin over to Steve. "Gotta track down some Russian cock-goblin… hold up! Track? Me? Fuck no. I'm a fucking god."
Instead of going anywhere, Marshall walked to an opening on the floor and dragged an office chair. He sat down in the middle of the open area and closed his eyes, arms crossed. By now, Marshall had so many powers, and amongst them, even above Galactus', stood the Aspirant's. The very power that allowed him to bring back Marty. He also had the Aspirant physique and cosmic energy manipulation.
On top of that, having inherited the power of the Tesseract, he held dominion over space manipulation as well.
"Let's see… George Sergius de Mohrenschildt… Where are you hiding?" Marshall focused and tried to find the man. He knew the face, the voice, the name. All he needed to do was use the weird godly power that he didn't inherit but simply grew. If humans saw him as their god, then he was just that. "Got you!"
As soon as he had the target, he summoned a spatial portal, and in less than a second, the man appeared in front of him. Tall, dressed in a suit and tie, hair slick.
"W-What?"
George was confused as he stood there, looking left and right.
"On your knees!" Marshall ordered. A flick of his finger was enough to press the man to his knees so hard that the kneecaps just shattered.
"Aaaaaargh! G-God! First Man! Forgive me!"
"Forgive you? For what?" Marshall asked back.
"..." George cried real tears, pleadingly looking at Captain America and Agent Carter. "P-Please… I don't know. But I must have done something utterly sinful."
"Damn right you did. You send this scrawny little fucker to blast my goddamn barbecue plate and cockblock my lunch?"
"..."
"Eh…" Steve suddenly approached his side. "Sir, I think their goal was to assassinate President Kennedy."
"Huh? Then fucking blast his skull already! Why ruin my plate of absolutely fine meat? That shit was perfection, juicy, flawless. Can't even fucking aim," Marshall snarled, yanking kneeling George through the air like a ragdoll. Seconds later, George's head was locked in his grip. He didn't need to touch to read, however. He just liked to crush their heads and give them headaches.
"Hmm… what the fuck is this? A British guy plotted all this? Why? Goddamn tea-sipping cockwombles. Only thing I remember about those pricks is their shriveled-up dwarf queen."
Unseen, Agent Carter's jaw tightened behind.
Since he'd seen the British guy in the memory, he summoned that man next. Again, two kneecaps were shattered. The man was old to begin with. Marshall again asked why they ruined his lunch. All he received was apologies and begging.
He read the tea-fucker's mind and learned about a group called Hydra. So, Marshall summoned the man he saw in the memories, the supposed operator of the secret group. Everything repeated, and another mind was fucked.
Finally, two names came, some Rothschild and some Romanov of Russia.
Woosh!
Marshall summoned both men in question. Old fossils, but not that old. They were dressed in fine suits. By then, the floor was crowded with so many figures that Marshall had summoned.
"Your Holiness." The man called Edward Rothschild bowed.
"First Man, it's an honor." So did Romanov.
"Suck each other's tits!" Marshall ordered. "You ruined my meat, so now you gotta slobber each other and jerk each other off."
"..."
"Y-Your Holiness, I assure you—"
"Shut it, Ratchild," Marshall growled and pointed at the assassin. He sent a beam of phoenix flames and burned a hole in the man's chest. "You want that? No? Then start sucking."
Thud!
What happened in that room was far too disgusting to even describe in words. The two men were old and wrinkled to begin with; their faces were prime examples of the horrors of incest. Fucked up teeth, fucked up nose, and sure enough, one was missing a ball, while the other had a cock that needed a magnifying lens to look at.
"Uwaaa!" Peggy Carter vomited at the sight.
Marshall looked behind and grinned at Steve. "Congratulations, son. Seems you're gonna be a daddy again."
"..."
"I-I don't think she's…"
Marshall shook his head. "I see all, kid. There's life growing inside her."
Steve stared at his wife, and Peggy also looked down at her belly. They had no idea, but since the literal god was saying it, it must be true.
Marshall watched as the insanity resumed. Two old fuckers on top of each other. Best not to say more. Even Marshall frowned at times, finding the sight filthy and just off-putting.
"Jesus! Roman, you're enjoying that, ain't you? Why the fuck are you moaning?!" Marshall frowned and stared at the Hydra leader. "You, go and diddle Roman's ass."
"..."
"You, tea-fucker. I'm sending you back home. Bring a videocamera, I'll count to a hundred."
Soon, the world's finest, filthiest movie started being recorded. Something that would shame ancient families.
"Tea-fucker, go and shove it in the Hydra guy's face."
"..."
At that point, Steve and Agent Carter had turned away. It was too much.
"First Man… Sir," Steve murmured. "Shouldn't we find out why they tried to kill the President?"
"Ah! Fuck, should've done that first. All of you, stop. Ratchild and Roman sit there like good little dogs." Marshall ordered and swept through their minds. He avoided the newly made memories, and as he read everything, he became enraged.
They were powerful, shadow rulers of many nations. Shadow hands that brought many man-made calamities. And worse, they were a part of a strange cult where they did horrible things to young ones.
Instead of explaining all of it, he uploaded all that information into Steve's brain. The mighty Super Soldier sat on his knees right away. The man looked horrified.
"I guess Kennedy boy was doing something good. Fighting you cocksuckers." Marshall growled, "Makes me wanna puke that you assholes pray to me like I'm your goddamn hall pass. Fine. You get a prize. You, your whole screaming bloodline, your friends who do the same, and their screaming bloodlines too. Poof. I'll erase every last molecule tied to your shitty DNA. I'm the First Man to humans, and you are… hellspawn."
It was radical. But Marshall was never kind to those who annoyed him. That was true for the old Marshall, and it was still true for the new Marshall.
That day, tens of thousands of humans, men, women, and children just vanished from across the world. They were all important and influential people, some in secrecy and others in public view. Immense wealth was left behind.
And Marshall was done with it all.
"Sir…" Steve voiced. "What about the Hydra leader and the Russian?"
"Do whatever you want. My day's ruined anyway," Marshall said and got up, making a portal to Dinosia. "Teaching you humans to make fire was a goddamn mistake. Evil shits."
Woosh!
And just like that, the portal closed, and Marshall vanished inside it.
Steve stared at his wife, sighing.
"That was… extreme," Agent Carter commented.
But Steve shook his head, having seen the memories. "I… don't think so… Peggy."
####
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