Open on a CHILDISH ILLUSTRATION of THE BATTLE OF NEW YORK. Toomes rubs his thumb over the Empire State Building, softly smiling with a twinge of melancholy. A man to his side clears his throat.
BROCK (O.S.)
's a real nice picture.
Toomes turns, incredulous to find EDDIE BROCK, attempting to look compassionate but landing more in the ballpark of “uncomfortably constipated”.
Eddie gestures towards Stark Tower.
BROCK
Fancy.
Beat. Toomes pockets the photo, turning towards Brock.
TOOMES
Can I help you?
BROCK
Eddie Brock. Independent.
TOOMES
Right. Make it quick.
BROCK
Okay. How'd you end up in that prison?
TOOMES
Same way everybody else does.
BROCK
Uh, reports are saying that you just appeared--
TOOMES
They're efficient.
Beat.
BROCK
…did you know that, uh... Spider-Man was just a kid when you fought him? Or did you find that out later?
TOOMES
Who says he's a kid?
BROCK
The news.
A prolonged beat.
TOOMES
Right.
In a flash, Toomes grabs Brock's collar and pulls him close.
TOOMES
Are you and I the only two people on the planet that know what we know?
Brock smirks.
BROCK
Three, actually.
TOOMES
The hell—?
After a moment, BROCK’S FACE DISTORTS! Eddie’s eyes are completely white and jagged, the ends of them reaching the sides of his temples. His teeth are frozen in a wide, almost rictus grin.
Toomes only tightens his grip.
VENOM
We've been watching you for a long, long time, Mr. Toomes. We can help each other.
TOOMES
Yeah? How’s that?
The thing leans forward, grinning, impossibly, wider than before.
VENOM
How would you like to go home?
Toomes smiles — partially out of shock, partially out of relief, and with just the smallest bit of mischief.
SMASH TO BLACK.