Spider-Man: Origins

It was a windy day. Rainy, too. The nerd was getting picked on . . . just like always.

"Parker, get your pansy rear-end over here!" screamed Flash Thompson, football team captain at Midtown High. Leading bully, too.

Parker was a young man. His first name? Peter. He'd had a hard life. His parents died in a plane crash when he was just six. And now this? Would he ever be popular?

"No!" Peter ran, but it did him no good. His skinny legs were no match for the muscle-bound quarterback.

"Gotcha, ya little runt!" Flash grabbed Peter by the tail of his shirt. Peter began to wonder why he didn't tuck it in.

"Please," begged Peter, "just let me go!"

"Not a chance, suirt," replied Flash. He forced Peter against one of the four cafeteria walls and stuck his hand near Peter's backside. He came up with a fistful of underwear.

"Nice, Petey, love your FTLs," Flash laughed. The whole cafeteria joined in. Couldn't Peter go without this humiliation for just one day?

Peter shook off Flash's hold and ran to the bathroom. When he got there, he looked into the mirror.

As he gazed, he thought, "Why me? Just because I'm smart doesn't mean I have to be Flash's chew toy! . . . Does it?"

A brown-haired man gazed at some lab rats.

"The performance enhancers seem to be working."

He strolled around to where a balding, nervous, plump scientist was sitting. "What do you think?"

The plump one spoke up. "Mr. Osborn . . . this is insane. Look at the mice fight each other day after day. Do you really think that that's just their nature? The serum did that to them."

Mr. Osborn just smiled a little. "Dr. Stromm. It doesn't matter what you think. I want to see your resignation on my desk."

"But --"

"Right after the human trial."

Doctor Stromm grimaced. He knew he was helpless in this situation. He knew that Osborn held all the cards. Still, he could try to defend himslef. "You -- you can't do that!"

Osborn smiled again, and knit his brows. "Oh, but, Doctor Stromm. I can."

Peter walked up to a girl. She was a pretty blond, way out of Peter's league, and he knew it. Still, he wondered if she might have some sympathy and let him take her to dinner. He was pretty sure Sally Avril wouldn't let him do that. But he was two steps away from her now.

"Umm . . . Sally?"

Sally looked up. The way her blond hair shone in the light made her look even prettier than before, which made her reply more harsh to Peter, captivated by her.

"WHAT, nerd?" she asked, rather indignantly, indicating that this wouldn't be Peter's smartest choice ever.

"I, uh, I just wanted to know if you had a date for tonight?"

"IS THERE SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU!?" Sally's reply came across to Peter like cold water, waking him up from the dream world where she would say "yes."

The whole school looked across the hall, where they were standing beside Sally's locker. No, it certainly wasn't his smartest move ever.

"Go ahead, Doctor Octavius."

A metal arm with three claws on the end reached for a lever on the control panel.

"Of course, Mr. Osbron," a thick German voice intoned. The German voiced man was plump with a haircut that looked like it had gone out in the 1920s. He had around his waist a metal harness, with four of those arms coming out of either side. He seemed to be controlling them with his hands. He made a grabbing motion with his hand. The claw grasped the lever.

Dr. Stromm was also in the room. He watched nervously as the lever was pulled down.

Norman Osborn, for the first time in eighteen years, looked scared. "Stromm. Turn on the gas."

Dr. Stromm sat with a blank look on his face and didn't move. Dr. Otto Octavius threw his arm towards the computer keyboard, saying, "Must I do everything myself?" He hit the key.

A young man with blond hair was sitting on a park bench. He had just come from Dr. Connors' Empire State University lab. The scene replayed in his mind.

"Brock, treat this spider."

"Yes, sir. Darn spider, stay still!"

Brock had grabbed the spider (with gloves on) and subjected it to enormous amounts of radiation in his anger. Dr. Connors told him to go home and chill out.

As that drama faded out of his mind, a new one crept into the night with a bang. An explosion rocked the starry sky. It appeared to come from OsCorp Industries.