Panel 1: View is of a door. On the door is a sign: Kleptomaniacs Anonymous.
Panel 2: View of Scott Lang from chest up. He looks tired. Eyes are baggy and he is one piece of bad news away from falling off the wagon.
Scott Lang: Hello. My name is Scott and I’m a kleptomaniac
Crowd: Hi Scott.
Scott Lang 1: I’ve been theft-free for five years now. But you know what? I still get those urges.
Scott Lang 2: Today, for example. Billionaire Justin Hammer arrived in town for Spy Con. Do you have any friggin’ idea what Spy Con’s net worth is? I’m sweating just thinking about it.
Panel 3: Scott is in the background, at the head of the circle sitting in a chair surrounded by other members of the anonymous group. One person is already up and walking away. Another kleptomaniac is listening closely but halfway out of her seat.
Scott Lang: It’s like the time last April, when I was casing the Worthington place (his place is in town too, on West 68th), just to see what was up. I was four years free, I wasn’t taking anything, just remembering the old thrill.
Panel 4: View of the group. One person is wiping sweat off his foreground, one is listening closely while taking notes, and another person is biting on her finger nails.
Scott Lang 1 (off panel): I don’t know, sometimes, I just- I don’t know if it’s worth it.
Sponsor (off panel): What’s that, Scott? What’s not worth it?
Scott Lang 2 (off panel): Giving up that life. I mean, I did pretty damn well for a while. Don’t you remember what that’s like?
Panel 5: The man next to Scott, the Sponsor, is sweating as he watches more of his recovering thieves make for the doors.
Sponsor: Well, let’s not forget- let’s not… Don’t you remember what this did to you?
Scott Lang 1: I guess so, yeah.
Scott Lang 2: But I also remember what this did for me.
Panel 6: Most of the remaining recovering thieves at the door, out the door or making for the door. The sponsor running his hand through his hair, looking utterly dismayed.
Panel 7: View of the three remaining members, Scott, the Sponsor and a handsome Southern gentleman with medium length hair held back by a headband, sporting a pink shirt and a brown trench coat. The gentleman is smirking at Scott, who seems the smallest bit ashamed of himself. The sponsor can’t even look at either of the men.
Remy LeBeau: Congrats, mon ami, you made 18 recovering thieves relapse.