I do not own Avengers Endgame.

I do not own a Flerken. I don't think.

Goose The Flerken and The Destroyer of Worlds

They say your body bears the story of your past.

The scars, the roadmap of your pain and experience.

Your journey.

And Thanos, son of A'Lars, had many, many scars suffered in his quest for balance in an unbalanced universe.

A universe that was now, finally, balanced.

By his own hand.

And as Thanos the farmer now dipped that hand into the barrel of water collected over many days of rain, his rippling reflection revealed those many battles.

Not the least of which, ravaged his rugged face.

Upon the destruction of half the species on its home planet, the captive Flerken, had squirmed, writhed, in the grip of The Mad Titan.

The one who would subdue it, interrogate it.

And discard its lifeless body once he was done with it.

Flerkens were formidable opponents, high level risks in any situation.

But Thanos was a courtier of Death.

And the creature's mouth and tentacles therein were bound fast. Rendering it helpless and under his control.

For Thanos had no need of hissed words and mewling confessionals.

The truth would be told in the depths of its glittering eyes.

So he had held it tight in his massive, powerful hands.

Determined to extract from it the information he required.

And the furred Flerken, lethal maw held shut within the constrictive metal cage, had lashed out suddenly with sizzling talons of razor-wired brutality.

And Thanos had paid the price for his hubris and underestimation of such a vicious foe.

"Ahh! Demon!"

And the creature . . .

"Capture it! It must not escape! Contain it!"

"It is gone, my liege."

"Ah, useless!"

. . . had escaped.

Thanos huffed in derision at the long held memory of the humiliating and painful defeat.

It enraged him still.

The Flerken.

He had almost lost an eye.

Ladies and gentlemen, Goose the cat.

Er, Flerken.

Ha!

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