Pete never wanted eternal life in the first place, much less a version of it set in a Lovecraftian nightmare with only his own company. Or that of the Revengers, but on balance he prefers to go slowly insane without the evil space squid version of Giant-Man stepping on his head.
What the hell kind of superhero name is 'Giant-Man,' anyway? Almost as dumb as calling yourself Star-Lord.
He doesn't bother to get up from the rock where he's sitting, or even to be surprised at the sight of Rich not looking like as much of a Robinson Crusoe mess as Pete does. Truth be told, he doesn't bother with much of anything anymore. Hope only ever makes things worse.
"Gotta say, buddy, if you're a hallucination, you're in pretty poor taste...but I guess I'm past the point of being picky." Pete shrugs. Might as well talk to himself. "How've you been, Richie? And where the hell'd you find a razor around here?"
no subject
What the hell kind of superhero name is 'Giant-Man,' anyway? Almost as dumb as calling yourself Star-Lord.
He doesn't bother to get up from the rock where he's sitting, or even to be surprised at the sight of Rich not looking like as much of a Robinson Crusoe mess as Pete does. Truth be told, he doesn't bother with much of anything anymore. Hope only ever makes things worse.
"Gotta say, buddy, if you're a hallucination, you're in pretty poor taste...but I guess I'm past the point of being picky." Pete shrugs. Might as well talk to himself. "How've you been, Richie? And where the hell'd you find a razor around here?"