[ WP ] After years of battles hard fought , at the close of a Civil War , Steve Rogers retires from the Avengers . Hanging up his shield and uniform , he settles down in a quiet little neighborhood , where he is known as simply as Mr. Rogers .

`` I've punched Hitler square in the jaw, I can handle this.'' thought Steve Rogers as his hand lingered on the door knob. The serum kept him young but it did n't give him nerves of steel, that was something he honed over the decades but now they were failing him. He peeked out the window hoping that it was just an illusion, his eyes playing tricks. 
 
 `` Damnit,'' he sighed. 
 
 `` Yoo-hoo. I can hear you in there,'' a sinister voice called. `` Come on, I do n't have all day. Let's just get it over with.'' 
 
 Steve looked over at the Vibranium shield he had hanging above his fireplace and knew it would n't protect him this time. A simple flick of the wrist and it could all be over, but it would be too easy. Knowing he had no other choice Steve embraced his destiny and opened the door to the horror that awaited him. 
 
 `` Hello, Mr. Rogers. Holy moly, took you long enough. Anyway, you know the deal. I got the goods, if you got the cash.'' said the little girl in proto-military gear. She brazenly showed off her all her accomplishments on her uniform for all to see and admire. Steve stopped caring about rank once he realized that he was his own man and no one person, government or corporation was going to control him. `` She's just a grunt who is following orders,'' he thought `` Ca n't blame her but does n't mean I'm going to let her bully me.'' 
 
 There was a large box behind the girl in a red Radio Flyer. Nostalgia hit Steve and brought him back into those icy waters he called home for so many decades. A Christmas gift from his childhood. Pretending to be a jet pilot or that he was exploring in cover wagon. Pulling the firewood to the house. Going down the biggest hill in the neighborhood. He could go anywhere or be anybody. 
 
 Steve Rogers realized he no other options. Shaky fingers reached into pockets and handed the tiny emotional terrorist all the cash he had. She began loading the boxes onto his doorstep as he just stood and watched in silence. 
 
 `` Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Rogers. See you next year,'' she squeaked. As she skipped down the street she suddenly stopped at the feet of a woman who could have been her mother or anyone's mother but in this case was not. 
 
 `` Did it work?'' asked the matronly figure. 
 `` Once he saw that dumb old wagon, he forked over his cash. Bet he has n't seen one of those since he was a kid himself.'' 
 `` And there in lies the lesson dear child. We are n't selling a product, we are selling memories. Delicious memories that have been marked up and filled with artificial flavorings. You just have to a little research on the vic -- - I mean client. Speaking of clients, who is next?'' 
 `` Some guy named Doom. Victor Doom.'' 
 `` A challenge for sure but nothing is impossible. Can I trust you to handle this one?'' 
 `` Of course. Scout's honor.''
