"Alright boys this next scam I got cooking up will get us over 17,000 jawbreakers!"
"Sounds promising. What is it this time, Eddy?"
instead of spending 17000 dollars on dashcon let’s spend 17000 dollars on a remake of The Producers about the events of DashCon
"You know, it’s absolutely amazing! Under the right circumstances, a conrunner could make more money with a flop then he could with a hit!"
"Yes, you keep saying that, but you don’t say how.”
"Well, it’s simply a matter of creative accounting."
"So in order for our scheme to work, we’d have to create a surefire flop!"
"Step 1! We find the worst userbase ever assembled."
"Step 2! We hire the worst staffers in town!"
"Step 3! I raise $17,000!"
"Yes! $8500 for me, $8500 for you. There’s a lotta gullible 12-year-olds out there!"
"Step 4! We hire the worst panelists in town and open in Illinois, and before you can say ‘Step 5…’"
"We close in Illinois, take our $17,000, and go to Rio!”
“♪~We can do it~♪”
I like the idea that in the MCU itself there’s still a ‘Hawkeye Initiative’ but it just consists of photos people have taken of Clint on their cellphones when he’s stretching or bending over to pick something up or whatever.
And then Tony finds out about it and shows it to Clint to embarrass him, but it completely backfires, Clint starts getting Nat to take photos of him in increasingly absurd butt-shot positions while he shoots at things, and uploads them online.
Then he starts doing it on missions whenever he catches sight of someone with their cellphone out. A significant portion of his training becomes dedicated to maintaining his aim while striking all sorts of improbable positions.
Tony regrets everything.
“Barton, what the hell is this?”
“It’s what you requested, sir.”
“I did not request a video file sent to my phone.”
Clint grinned down at the cutting board. “Well, no, but this is just me being proactive. I was told to work on being proactive on my last quarterly review, why is Hill giving me quarterly reviews now, by the way?”
“It has something to do with a conflict of interest,” Phil said. He sounded like he was chewing nails. “In that Director Fury seems to think that me having to give you your reviews might interfere with our working relationship.”
“But doesn’t that define our working relationship?” Clint spun the knife on the flat of his hand, catching it neatly and stabbing downward with an efficient use of force. The potato never saw it coming. “You’re my boss. You boss me. Then you tell me how I fucked that up.”
“Then we go home and sleep together,” Phil pointed out.
“It’s the natural order of things,” Clint agreed, dicing the potato with a few flicks of his wrist. He considered double dicing, but that was probably a bit much, what with the phone call and all.
“As it turns out, SHIELD is not sure I’ll give you an honest quarterly review, because of the sleeping together part.”
THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER