Another Spider-Man 2 Parody

BY LARGEMARGE

Author's Note: So I needed some inspiration for my other fic. And I thought, hey, what better way to get me in the parodying mood than Spider-Man 2? And here it is. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I really don't own much of anything, and especially not Spider-Man 2 or any of the characters therein. I don't even own a Spider-Man comic. Plus I'm not making any money off this.


Peter Writes a County Song

Mary Jane Watson's face, approximately the size of Texas, appears on the screen. Peter Parker, who is late for work, stops to stare and muse inwardly.

"She looks at me every day. Mary Jane Watson. Oh, boy. She's so hot. Plus it looks like she's gone with a lighter shade of red for this movie." He sighs. "I wish I could have gotten a new hair color. No fair. MJ gets all the breaks."

He continues musing as he strolls leisurely to work, which he is still late for, by the way. "If she only knew how I felt about her. But she can never know, unless she's psychic and I just don't know it.

"But anyway, I made this choice once, to not go out and get drunk like other guys my age, but instead to spend all my free time saving lives and helping old ladies cross the street. And that's a life she can never be a part of, because…well, I don't really know why, but anyway. Just pretend I never said that, or it destroys the whole premise for this movie. So where was I? Oh, yeah. Spider-Man, blah blah blah, Peter Parker. And I have a job to do. Until I get fired in a little while, I mean."

Peter arrives for work.

"Parker! You're late!"

"I'm sorry. There was a…disturbance. And I always pause meaningfully before saying the word…disturbance."

"Well, knock it off! It's weird. Look, you gotta deliver these pizzas in Florida in the next seven minutes. And if you don't make it in time, you're fired!"

"But –"

"Goooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"


Peter is on his bike weaving in and out of traffic and getting in people's way. But it's okay, because he's Spider-Man.

Random people yell at him and make rude hand gestures. Suddenly he decides the bike isn't cutting it, and he'll make it faster if he becomes his alter ego. Or maybe it was just a convenient excuse to stick some Spidey action in right at the beginning. People see him flying through the air and yell stuff like:

"Whoa! Spider-Man delivers pizzas!" and

"Why don't you wear your underwear on the outside like Superman?!"

Two suicidal kids run in front of a big ugly truck. Peter, being the hero that he is, rescues them even though it places his pizzas in peril.

"No more running in front of trucks," he tells the kids sternly. "Unless you're me, that is."

"Yes, Mr. Spider-Man."

"Well, gotta go deliver some pizzas – I mean…I'm off to save the world!"

More people yell stuff, but now it's friendly.


Peter lays the smackdown on some brooms in a closet. Ultimately, he is the victor. Which isn't saying much, 'cause they were brooms, after all.

"Pizza time," he says to a snarky gum-chewing lady.

"You're late plus you came out of the janitor's closet. That's just weird," she tells him.

"Well, pay for the pizzas anyway."

"Get out of here, kid. You're freaking me out."

Peter walks off dejectedly, wishing he'd let those kids get run over so he wouldn't have been late.


Joe yells at him for a while about not knowing the meaning of a promise. Which is ironic, see, because Peter's just been talking about that, remember? He's given up the love of his life because he made a promise to himself once…and now he's getting fired because he can't keep a promise. Oh, the irony, the angst, the –

Sorry. Ahem. Got carried away.

But anyway, then Peter begs and grovels a lot in order to keep his job. Which doesn't end up working anyway.

"You're not even worthy to wear my sticker on your little helmet thingy," Joe tells him before ripping it off. "Now get out of here. I never want to see your face in the pizza business again!"

Peter leaves, and since he's already having a bad day, he decides to make it worse by going to see Mr. Jameson.

"Parker, you're the worst photographer in the world. You're fired."

"Why?"

"Your pictures are crap. Crap crap crap. You should try selling old cheese sandwiches on Ebay. More profitable."

"I was thinking you could show the softer side of New York for a change. You know, little girls catching butterflies and children frolicking in the park and Boy Scouts helping old ladies cross the street and stuff."

"Jonah, we need a front page, like yesterday!" Robbie says.

"Parker, I don't pay you to bring in crap like that. I pay you because you're the only one in town willing to sell out that psycho Spider-Man."

"Look, I'm not giving you anymore pictures of Spider-Man, even this really great one that I brought along for no reason."

"Ooh, neato!" Mr. Jameson grabs the picture. "Well, there's your page one." He hands off the picture. "I'll give you 150."

"Two million."

"That's outrageous! How about 300?"

"Oh, fine."

Peter goes out and talks to the girl with the lipstick. "Mr. Jameson says to give me two million," he tells her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Pete," she says. "That won't cover the money I already gave you. But don't feel bad about it, because I'll pat your back and smile at you a lot. And hey, I'm one of the few girls in this movie who's shorter than you!"

This makes Peter feel better.


Any normal person would have just given up and hidden in a corner for the rest of the day, but noooooo, Peter is still torturing himself for some reason. Also, to further blur the fine line between Peter Parker and Clark Kent, he trips and drops his books and lots of people run into him, just to emphasize what a doofus he is. Plus his professor shows up.

"Hey, Dr. Connors. I'm on my way to your class! Wanna walk together?"

"Parker, I know you're a genius, but you're an idiot."

"So…you don't wanna walk together?"

"Not really, no. And by the way, your paper on fusion is late."

"Oh, that. Um…my landlord's anorexic daughter ate it."

Dr. Connors is not amused.

"I mean…I'm writing it on Otto Octavius," Peter quickly amends.

"Hmmm, he's a good friend of mine. Really, we hang out all the time. But don't be surprised if I never refer to him again, even if his wife dies and he suddenly sprouts four new limbs and tries to kill everyone in the city."

"Okay," Peter says. He is slightly confused.

"But anyway, do your research," Dr. Connors continues. "Or I'll fail you and you'll have to find some other university that lets you get this far without ever studying or doing homework."

Peter begins to grovel for the third time that day. "I'm really sorry, Dr. Connors…I'll do better, I promise."

"Good. And stop being so klutzy, will you? It gives us geniuses a bad name."


Peter rides his motorbike to Aunt May's house. He walks in and is completely surprised when everyone jumps out at him.

"Boogah boogah boogah!" Harry says, practicing for his future role as the next Green Goblin.

MJ elbows Harry to knock it off. "Surprise!"

Peter is surprised.

"Well, say something!" Aunt May says.

"Is it pizza man appreciation day again? Well, I've got bad news for you, in that case…"

"Peter, it's your birthday!" Aunt May gives him a big sloppy kiss.

"You live in another reality, don't you, Pete," MJ says.

"Well, it's not the best area of town, I'll admit, but I wouldn't call it that..."

"Hey, Pete," Harry says. "Seen Spider-Man lately? Cause you know I want to kill him. As soon as possible. Then my life will truly have meaning."

"Let's not talk about him," Aunt May says. "The angst is already emanating from Peter; we don't need Harry to start too."

"So what's going on at Oscorp?" Peter asks.

"Oh, same old same old. We're gonna make a breakthrough on fusion soon, and then I can be rich and famous, like I've always dreamed."

"Oh, that's wonderful, Harry," Aunt May says. "Your father would be so proud. If he wasn't dead, that is."

Peter looks around guiltily.

"We're funding one of your idols, Pete."

"Ooh, Justin Timberlake?"

"No, Otto Octavius."

Peter looks faintly disappointed. "Oh, him. I've gotta write a paper on him."

"Wanna meet him?"

Peter perks up. "Can I? It'd save me a lot of time researching…"

"Sure. He's gonna put Oscorp on the map in a way my father never dreamed of, and I don't just mean like he's gonna make a crater out of New York City."

"Come help me with the food, Mary Jane," Aunt May says.

"But I want to stare at Peter for a while longer," Mary Jane objects.

"You can stare at him later on the back porch."

"Oh, fine." They disappear into the kitchen.

"She's waiting for you, pal," Harry says.

"Waiting for me to what?"

"I dunno…but the way she's always standing around giving you looks…you don't owe her any money, do you?"

"Don't think so..."

"Or maybe she just wants you to ask her out."

Peter shrugs. "No time for girls."

"Why not?"

"Weren't you listening to my little monologue at the beginning of the movie? Sheesh, catch up with the rest of us here."

"Does this have anything to do with Spider-Man?"

"Stop talking about him! Everywhere I go everyone's talking about Spider-Man!"

"Then be honest with me. If you knew who he was, would you tell me?"

"Well, maybe…if he wasn't me, that is."

Harry is mad. And I don't mean in the "he's gone crazy" sense. Although that doesn't seem to be too far in the future…


Peter snoops around and finds out Aunt May is broke. She's fallen asleep on the table, so Peter wakes her up to stop her from drooling on the tablecloth.

"Mmmmmfff…what?"

"You're broke!" Peter accuses her.

"Oh well, I don't want to talk about that. Here, I'll give you twenty bucks to shut up."

"But –"

Aunt May starts yelling randomly. "Take the money or you'll regret it! Really, really, a lot! I mean it! Kids these days –" And then it's over. "Oh, I'm sorry. Don't know what came over me. Ahem. It's just that…Oh, I miss your Uncle Ben so much, especially since I'm broke. Can you believe it's been two years since he died? I wonder what I'd do if I were to face the one responsible."

"Wish him happy birthday?" Peter guesses.

Aunt May doesn't seem to be listening. "Now, you'd better take the rest of the cake home," she says.


Peter takes the garbage out, which may or may not contain the aforesaid cake. Maybe it wasn't the greatest cake in the world. And at last it seems he's finally beginning to realize that this really is the crappiest day of his life.

"Hey!" It's MJ.

"Oh, you're still here. I saw your billboard."

"Yeah, I'm kind of embarrassed about that. It's so terrible to have my face up for everyone to see and fawn over...oh, who am I kidding. It rocks. And now I'm rich and famous."

"Well, at least I get to see you every day now."

"I liked seeing you tonight, Peter."

"Oh boy, yeah."

"Oh boy yeah, what?"

"Oh boy, yeah I liked seeing you tonight too."

"Do you want to say something?"

Peter is confused. "I thought I just said it."

MJ throws her hands up in disgust.

Peter tries to come up with something good to say, as she seems to be expecting more from him. "I…was…wondering if you're still on Weight Watchers. You look really good."

Mary Jane puts a hand to his face. "You're such a mystery. Peter?"

MJ's hand seems to work as a sedative, as Peter is now falling asleep. "…huh?"

"Happy birthday." She turns away and Peter begins to wake up again. "I'm seeing somebody now."

"You mean like a shrink? Not a bad idea…"

"I mean a boyfriend."

"But what about me?"

"What about you?"

"When are we going to get serious?"

"I have a boyfriend," she reminds him.

"Oh, right. That's good. You know, companionship."

"Maybe more than that."

"More? More than a boyfriend? You mean a girlfriend too?" Peter feels truly betrayed.

"I don't know."

"I'm going to come see your play tomorrow night."

MJ perks up momentarily. "You're coming?"

"Well, don't hold your breath."

"I might have known," MJ mutters under her breath as she storms away.


Peter walks back into the house. If I had known the beginning of this movie was going to be so crappy, I never would have signed on for this deal, he grouses inwardly. I've lost my job, my good grades, my love interest, my best friend, and my self respect, all on my birthday. I think I'll go write a country song.

Peter trudges dejectedly up the stairs to his apartment, trying to come up with the opening line of his new country song.

"Nothing rhymes with Spider-Man!" he mutters in frustration.

Suddenly a random door pops open and cigar smoke and polka music wafts out.

"Rent!" Mr. Ditkovitch calls.

Peter tries to be nonchalant. "Hi," he says casually.

"Oh yeah? What's hi? Can I spend it?"

"No. See, we use dollars here," Peter explains.

Mr. Ditkovitch closes his eyes. "What I wanna know is where's my money?"

"Oh, that. Well, I have a paycheck due this week. Really. Right after I get a job. And I'm really not holding out any money to buy a ticket to a play and some flowers."

"You're a month late! Again!"

"Look, I came through for you last month, didn't I? I promise –"

"If promises were cheese wheels, my daughter would be fat!"

"Hey, you're not pinning her eating disorder on me, are you? Look, I'm really sorry. All I've got is this twenty bucks for the rest of the week –"

"Ha! I take your twenty bucks. And if you've got a minute now, I'll do my rat impression for you."

"Hmmm…impressive." Peter is more frightened than impressed, but he doesn't really want to let on. He backs slowly away.

"And don't try to sneak past me again, eh? Or I'll sic my daughter on you. She's scary. She blows things up."

"Hi, Pete!" Aforesaid daughter waves at him before randomly blowing something up.


Author's Note: Well, there you have the first installment. Like it or not? Let me know…