A week later, as this villain's plot prepares to come to fruition, our hero Jumping Jack deals with a rather frustrated caller.

"You've been B Grade for less than a week, and you've already skipped 2 days worth of patrols. How the hell do you call yourself a hero when you can't even do your damned job?" the irate man on the phone says in his quiet tone, voice seething.

"Well, I figured I could take a day or two off to celebrate the promotion, you know?" Jack's taking this call as he sits along the edge of a rooftop, legs dangling over the side overlooking the streets below.

"You can't just keep taking leave anytime you feel like it. You're Grade B now, you have a responsibility to uphold."

Jack digs through a bag of fast food, watching the cityscape as he unwraps a burger. "It's not like it's that big a deal right?"

He can hear an exasperated sigh through the phone. "Not that big a deal? You're a hero, you're supposed to act like o- Can you please stop chewing so loudly? I'm trying to talk to you."

Jackson swallows a bite of his burger. "People gotta eat, Tommy."

"Oh for the love of Christ," Thomas grumbles to himself. "You know you disgust me right? When I recommended you to be promoted, I at the very least expected you to pay me back by taking your job seriously for once. And I swear, you'd better be going on patrol, your hours are set to start in 20 minutes."

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about it, soon as I finish up here I'll start hopping along, beating down baddies and saving all those damsels in distress," he takes a sip from a large pop. "Speaking of stressed out damsels, how you feeling man? We spent all this time talking about me, nothing about you though."

A pause. "I'm fine, just want you to get your act together, and do a full patrol for once."

"You know, crazy thought here, how about we go on patrol together, eh Tommy boy?"

A second pause, before Thomas asks "And why would we do that?"

Jack nibbles on a couple of fries. "Well, because, we haven't really gone on patrol together in a pretty long while, and since you're oh-so-very-worried about me not taking things seriously, you could always come along and keep me on the straight and narrow."

"No."

"No? Come on man! We never hang out anymore! You're all so super serious nowadays, and I miss bopping baddies and saving lives together. Just one little patrol together? Just for funsies sake?"

Another round of grumbling. "No, I shouldn't have to babysit you to keep you from running away from your duties. Just go on patrol, and we'll find some other time to hang out."

"Aww, fine. But don't blame me if I get distracted and 'run away from my duties' again, ain't my fault I don't have someone responsible to keep track of me."

"I'm hanging up the call now." Before Jack can reply, Thomas has already ended the call.

Jack pockets his phone, and plops his scraps and trash into a paper bag. "Love you too man."

As Jumping Jack stands up, stretching his legs out before a big patrol, he notices a series of police cars pulling in front of a large bank. A rather familiar sight thanks to his recent filming.

Jack steps a couple of paces back, paper bag clutched in one hand, and sprints toward the edge of the roof. He leaps off, rapidly plummeting towards the ground. His feet slam into the pavement, the shock being absorbed by his legs as he springs forward immediately after.

In one hop, he's flying over a dumpster where he tosses the paper bag. In two hops, he's just outside the bank parking lot. In three hops, he lands securely on the roof. As he stares down into the reception area through a glass roof, he mutters to himself, "Deja vu huh?"

He takes a moment to eye the situation at hand, counting the number of thugs inside, a total of 4 from what he can see. He takes the next moment to glance over himself in the glass roof's reflection. "Hair's good, mask's good, mustard glob on my sleeve lemme wipe that off...and good." He's ready to make his entrance.