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It was 1973 and Stanley Pines was in New York City. He had been chased out of his home state of New Jersey because of certain... irregularities with his Sham Total product. The Rip-Off had gotten him ejected from Pennsylvania and What A Racquet! had likewise gotten him banned from Connecticut. Obviously, time for the Big Apple! If he could make it there, he'd make it anywhere! Excepting New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Connecticut. Still, he had high hopes!
He was passing by 135 W. 50th Street when the door to the building opened and a little guy with slicked back hair and glasses crashed right into him. "Oops, sorry, buddy. Let me buy ya lunch! TAXI!!" The little runt said. A cab pulled up. "205 East Houston Street" the little guy said.
"Katz's? I wouldn't say no to a pastrami sandwich!" Stan said.
"A man of taste, I see." The runt said as they climbed into the cab and headed for the Lower East Side. Stan looked back at the building they just left and noticed the logo on the building, Marvel Comics.
"You work there?" Asked Stan.
"Yeah. Just made publisher. I guess I kinda run the place now." The runt said.
"No shit? I usta love reading Captain Nazi-Puncher when I was a kid!"
"Not my department, then. I was kind of in the army during world war two."
"Really? See any action?"
"Not so much. I mostly climbed poles. Until I was made Playwright."
Stan laughed. "What did you do in the war, daddy? I, um, wrote crap."
"Don't laugh. It was a very prestigious position. There were only nine of us. I worked with Frank Capra, Chuck Addams, Ted Geisel. Select group."
"Y'know, back when I was twelve, I tried my hand at writing a comic."
"No kidding! Any good?"
"I took it around to the shops. They said there was too much cursing and that it was a pyramid scheme in comic form."
"Well, kid, the comics code is changing! Besides, we've got cash flow problems, a little Ponzi scheme might be just the ticket! Tell ya what, bring around a portfolio next week and I'll take a look at it! The comics scene is a bit stagnant right now, a forward thinker might be just what we need!"
"Gosh, thanks Mister... Mister...."
"Lee. Stan Lee."
"I like you already! I'm a Stan too!"
"Us Stans gotta stick together!" The cab pulled up to 205 East Houston. They got out. "Besides I like helping out a fan! Excelsior!"
Excelsior? Thought Stan. What the hell does that mean? Is he making fun of me? That sounds like Poindexter! The barely concealed rage that was a part of Stanley Pines ever since his pa Filbrick had thrown him out bubbled to the surface. The guy sounds like Stanford! Stanford the smart! Stanford the Golden Boy! Stanford, who didn't lift a finger to help him. He took a swing, a left cross. The runt was quick! He ducked and came up with two quick left jabs to the face and a right to the breadbasket. He might've wrote in the war but he could fight. He moved like a flyweight but punched like a welterweight! Stan automatically felt the footwork start, left jab, left jab right uppercut. The right connected and the runt went down! Stan noticed the crowd outside of Katz's and saw money changing hands. Two guys were arguing. "Yeah, the big guy won, but the little guy scored first blood."
Now, two jews duking it out in front of Katz's Delicatessen wasn't a common thing. But it wasn't unheard of. Stan heard the sirens coming and took off towards the subway. The Stanleymobile was parked in a lot on 65th street, near the park. He had a black eye and a split lip and kinda wanted to puke. The little runt could really throw a punch! Oh, crap! He was a nobody, not even welcome in Jersey and he just punched out a successful publisher! Who was offering him a job! Stanley, why do you gotta be so stupid?! Welp, might as well write Manhattan off! Just another place Stan Pines can't show his face! Where now? Albany? Buffalo? Too close! Guess I'll try Ohio.
Stan Lee got up rubbing his bruised jaw. What a maniac! Angry violent nutjob out of nowhere. Huh. That gives me an idea! Angry violent nutjob out of nowhere! Thirsting for revenge! Fists, guns, knives, whatever! What to call him? Got it! The Punisher! I'll give it to Gerry, have him come up with something for Spidey. This could work! An Antihero!
Forty years later, Stanley Pines was watching some God-awful thing on TV with Dipper and Soos. He had no idea that Frank Castle was based on him.