A gruff looking man sits on the stone floor doing calisthenics as best as he can in the small space.

His dark beard with white streaks, gives him a pirate look.

He lifts his head to reveal a black eyepatch over his right eye.

"What do you want?" the man says with no interest except boredom.

"Mirikuru or not," The visitor says from the shadows, "You still have those sharp senses, Mr. Wilson. It must be rough to know your best friend in the world, heck your only friend did it to you."

"Let me guess," Wilson replies, "Argus or whoever thinks the Kid has become a problem. You'll let me go if I take care of it."

"Good guess," the stranger says, "But we both know the Mirikuru has worn off. You don't want to harm Oliver Queen. In fact, you spend much of your time thinking of your days thinking of ways for redemption when not seeking a way for forgiveness from your sons."

"I only one son." Slade says slowly.

"Adelaide really hated you," the stranger responds, "Grant, named after her father."

"How, do you know all this," Slade growls, grabbing the bars.

"Don't worry," the Stranger says, "I'm not doing this to torment or get you to harm your only friend. In fact, part of my job is to help you get redemption for the sins of your life and believe me that's no small list."

Slade Chuckles

"Who are you?" Slade asks

"Call me The Stranger," The Stranger replies, "My real name is less dramatic sounding, but you won't believe me.

"Try me," Slade responds.

The Stranger tells him and their great disbelief. And there is serious back and forth."

Finally, the stranger snaps his fingers and they both disappear from the bunker. They jump to various moments of Slade's life all the way to his first training session with Oliver. And they're back."

"If you want further proof," The Stranger responds, "I can take you back to you potty training, but I'd rather not."

"How, do you do that?" Slade asks.

The stranger steps into the light. He's wearing a blue trench coat like a cape clasped at the collar with a blue suit.

"It's a gift of where I was born," the stranger replies, "Actually where I was conceived."

"Small problem, Kid's not going to trust me," Slade replies.

"There's a proverb," The Stranger says, "A bird lands in a cold field, freezing. A cow walks by and defecates on him. The bird warms up and starts to sing. A cat hears the song and grabs the bird and eats.

"Just because someone craps on you, it isn't always bad. And just because they pull you out, doesn't always mean it's bad."

"That actually makes sense." Slade replies.

"So, do we we have a deal?" The Stranger asks.

"Deal"

"Here," the stranger snaps his fingers, "A liquor bottle appears in Slade's hand."

"Your Reuther Rum Bottle," the stranger says, "I figured you needed something to take the edge off."

"So, what happens when they realize I'm gone?" Slade responds?

"Got it all covered," The Stranger replies, "According to plan. What's the worst that could happen?"

"This island is called purgatory," Slade snarks, "Everything here is the worse that could happen. Do you have a backup plan?"

"Not really," The Stranger responds, "I do have it on my list to put Australia, New Zealand, and Canada back under the British rule."

"I may regret this," Slade replies.

"Kidding, sort of. Every time I get rid of Parliamentary supremacy, they just bring it back. Morons. Maybe next time I'll work on those ungrateful bastards in 1776.

"You're going to have to handle my sense of humor. I spend the first billion years waiting for other sentient life. I went insane. After a few more billion, I got over.

"Still do you know what it's like to try to teach Dinosaurs to play poker. First, I actually had to invent poker and T-Rex's cheat."

"You're making this up!" Slade snaps.

"Of course, you should be drunk enough now."

"Wait, maybe this isn't just a good idea," a drunk Slade asks.

The Stranger smiles and snaps his fingers.

"Time to go, Uncle Slade."