Fly, Dragonfly

Scott Lang: The Ant-Man

Gramps and I went over the plan. This guy, Scott Lang would fall for our heist trap in order to stop Dr Cross. I guess being a smartass runs in the family. Luckily, Scott got the suit no problem. I have to admit, I was impressed, especially with the nitrogen to freeze open the metal door.

A few hours later, I was in the middle of reading a book when Gramps came into my room. "Hey, Gramps." I greeted. "What's up?" "Scott's got the suit on. The plan is working." Gramps responded. "I learned from the best." I said. "So proud of my little girl." Gramps complimented.

He showed me the footage of Scott, who was already shrunk to the size of an ant. "The world sure seems different from down here, doesn't it, Scott?" Gramps asked. "What? Who said that?" Scott wondered. "It's a trial by fire, Scott. Or, in this case, water." Gramps said as Scott almost drowned in a bathtub. "Guess you're tougher than you thought." As Gramps and I watched Scott almost get killed by vacuum cleaner, or stomped on, he finally had enough of our little test drive and returned to normal size on top of a car. "Not bad for a test drive, Mr Lang." I complimented. "Keep the suit. My grandpa will be in touch." "Was that a child?!" Scott wondered. "You'll find out soon enough." I replied.

Later, Gramps took me to the San Francisco Prison, where Scott was held after returning the suit. "I told you he'd be in touch, Mr Lang." I said as Scott joined us, believing that Gramps was his lawyer. "I'm starting to think that you prefer the inside of a jail cell. Sit down." Gramps explains. "Sir, I'm sorry I stole the suit." Scott apologized. "I don't even want to know why you have it." "Maggie was right about you." Gramps sighed. "How do you know about..." Scott wondered. "No wonder she's trying to keep you away from Cassie." Gramps continued. "The moment things get hard, you turn right back to crime. The way I see it, you have a choice. You can either spend the rest of your life in prison, or go back to your cell and await further instructions." "I don't understand." Scott said, confused. "No, I don't expect you to." Gramps replied. "But you don't have many options right now, and quite frankly, neither do I. Why do you think my granddaughter and I let you steal that suit in the first place? Second chances don't come around all that much. So, next time you think you might see one, I suggest you take a real close look at it." "Bye, Mr Lang." I waved as Gramps and I were headed back home.

As soon as we returned home, I made sure the ants were ready to play their part of the plan. "Gramps and I will send you the coordinates. Good luck." I explained to the ants.

As soon as Scott put the suit on, he shrank and escaped his cell. "Smart choice. You actually listened for once." Gramps said. "Slide under the door." I explained as Scott listened to me, sliding underneath the door to escape from that hellhole. "Okay, where to now?" Scott asked. "Hang tight." I replied as the ants surrounded him. Judging by the size of the ants compared to himself, I could tell he was uncomfortable. "Scott, these are my associates." Gramps explained. "Is that a camera on an ant? Yeah, sure. Why not?" Scott asked. "Where's the car?" "No car. We've got wings." I said. "Put your foot on the central node and mount the thorax." "How safe is..." Scott began. "Just get on the damn ant, Scott!" Gramps and I shouted. As Scott mounted the ant, he flew on top of a police car. "Why am I on a police car?" Scott asked. "Shouldn't I not be on a police car?" "So they can give you a lift past their five block perimeter." Gramps explained. "Now, what's the next move?" He asked. "Hang on tight." Gramps replied. "Oh, this is easy! I'm getting the hang of this." Scott said. "Yank up to go up. It's like a horse." "You're throwing 247 off balance." Gramps warned. "Wait, his name is 247?" Scott asked. "He doesn't have a name, he has a number, Scott." Gramps explained. "I wanted to name them, but Gramps insisted on assigning them numbers." I added. "Do you have any idea how many ants there are?" Gramps asked. "No, no! Vertigo! Vertigo!" Scott shouted. "I think I'm getting the hang of this." "Brenna is controlling 247. He's not listening to you." Gramps said. "Can I make a little request?" Scott asked, going higher in the air. "What happens if I throw up in this helmet?" "It's my helmet, Scott. You do not throw up." Gramps demanded. "Let's set her down, alright? I'm getting light headed." Scott begged, breathing heavily. "I need a snooze button. Hit me in five minutes." As Scott became unconscious, I used 247 to catch him and bring him back to our place.