Lights go out, the crowd goes silent. A huge unicorn appears onstage. The gays flock on the field wearing nothing but relics from the “Artpop” era.
Suddenly, a voice echoes throughout the stadium:
“It doesn’t matter if you love him, or capital H I M”
A republican drops dead.
The unicorn explodes, releasing a cloud of glitter and grease. Tom Brady chokes on this eleganza. Gaga emerges wearing nothing but an American flag.
She sings the first verse and chorus of “Born this Way”, immediately destroying every nuclear weapon in the world.
She stops, looks straight at the camera: “My name is lady Gaga, but you can call me Joanne”.
An electric guitar bursts into flames while Gaga belts out “Perfect Illusion”, dismantling the white supremacy. The song suddenly fades out into “Manicure” for fifteen seconds.
A dance interlude storms onstage, while the “Venus” chants morphs into “Dance in the Dark”. An exorcism is performed live onstage.
The démon rises up, followed by “Bad Romance”. The Wesboro Baptist Church disappears into oblivion. GOP is drowned into hot cheetos, which allows time for Cher to become the first female US president.
The new United States of America is reborn to the tune of “Poker Face”, sung as a duet with Tony Bennett. Lady Gaga kicks a football and score a touchdown. Texas becomes officially gay™.
The performance ends, as Tony Bennett drops his flesh suit to reveal… BEYONCÉ!!! “Téléphone Part 2/Judas/Video Phone” mash up grants three wishes to every person who ever bought “Joanne” and watched “AHS: Hotel”. Laganja Estranja death drops on Joe Biden’s face.
Lady Gaga shoots fireworks from her Versace boobs while singing “The edge of Glory”, effectively ending homophobia everywhere in the world.
The stadium erupts in applause, as Lady Gaga’s voice fades away, singing the iconic bridge from “Applause”.
A jock in the audience turns to Barack Obama wearing a rainbow jacket, and whispers “She did that.” Obama answers “yes, she did.”
Imagine the first time Steve makes a modern pop culture reference. Not just gets it or adds to one, but makes one himself. (Natasha would be so proud.)
The problem with battling
villains in a city wasn’t just the massive structural damage and civilian lives
at risk. It was also how tight the fighting was; there was
nowhere to go but into someone or something else. Steve found it difficult enough, he didn’t
know how Tony did it, having to account for the size of the suit as well as the
damage his repulsors did just getting him off the ground and the weight of the
suit when he landed.
However he did it, he did
it well. As Steve rushed towards more
oncoming, (Tony was calling them dustbunnies
and Steve didn’t know what they really were so he’d taken to calling them dustbunnies
and here they were. Fighting dustbunnies. Technical term.), he watched Tony rush past
low, taking out a half-dozen dustbunnies as he went before rocketing straight
up into the air.
Clint and Peter were busy
managing containment; they’d managed to shrink the radius of the fight to two
square blocks and were holding strong if their occasional reports on his comm
were any indication.
More dustbunnies (Steve
really needed to ask FitzSimmons what these things really were when all this
was over) came pouring through the wormhole above them and Tony created a
distraction, circling them quick and plummeting towards the ground. The dustbunnies didn’t have great reaction
times, and while Tony stuck a one-footed landing on a bridge railing, arms out
for balance, a number of dustbunnies either slammed into the ground, or hit the
water and fizzled into ash.
Steve smiled at the sight
and whispered unthinking under his breath: “Strike a pose now, vogue.”
“…Steve?” That was
Natasha. Who sounded like she was
smiling. Which meant she had heard him.
Which meant. “Capsicle!” There was Tony. “You’ve joined the twenty-first century!”
“I’m so proud.” Natasha sounded in his earpiece again.
Steve thought that was the
end of it, as more dustbunnies came pouring through the wormhole.
And it was. Until three days later, when Steve was
double-checking his suit and tie in a mirror, (another charity event, this time
for the damage wrought less than a week before), and he heard Madonna streaming
from the speakers he usually heard JARVIS through.
Very funny, Tony. Steve texted.
Steve got back a picture
from the security footage in the common hall he’d been checking his tie in, his
hands on the lapels of his jacket and practicing his Public Appearances Polite
Smile. Vogue! Was the only text Tony attached to the image.