"Dad, can I come to work with you?" I was in my pajamas and caught his just before he left.
"Uh, no." he laughed, "Forgetting something, like, school?"
I wrinkled my nose at his sarcasm. He could be extremely touchy in the mornings. It often annoyed me to deal with it, but I had to put up with his "playfulness" today if I wanted to achieve my goal.
"Teacher planning day. Pleeeeeeeeeeeease?" I begged, "I want to see the Daily Bugle!"
I had one shot to convince him, and, seeing he was in a hurry, it wasn't a particularly long one.
"You won't like my boss."
He was really going out on a limb now.
"From what I here, he's a self-obsessed man who has no regard for other human beings, what's not to like? Please?"
"Fine. Get dressed."
"Yeah!" I fist bumped the air and ran to my room. My dad worked for the only newspaper to ever get pictures of Spiderman! Apparently there was one guy who could get him to pose for him. It was amazing to live in New York City, but I never seemed to be able to reap the benefits. Super heroes are exiting, and wonderful, but only if you get a chance to see them. I was never particularly lucky in that aspect. I was either at the right place at the wrong time, or vice versa.
"You ready?" dad shouted, his attitude the equivalent of an eye roll. He was such a… a dad.
"Just a sec!" I threw on my black t-shirt and jean shorts. After checking the mirror and deciding my curly hair was presentable. Some mornings it became a golden afro of death. Then, after the epic battle to tame it, I was late.
"Ready!" Having an apartment in New York City had only one upside, depending on who you ask. For my dad it was walking to work. For me, it was seeing Spiderman. Only… I haven't. Which was annoying.
"Have you met him?" I asked as we power walked down the sidewalk. The trees that shadowed the side walk had just begun to shed their leaves, swirling the fallen foliage around our feet. Our other side was flanked by skyscrapers, their tips settling against the sky's creamy blue.
"For the millionth time, no!" he chuckled, "We're here."
The building itself was quite impressive. It was huge, stalky, and imposing. Just like the man who owned it. We purposefully strode through the sliding glass doors, smoothly slipping into the elevator. I bit my lip as I imagined the wonders of this new world.
Except it wasn't wonderful.
It was boring.
Really boring.
I sat in the corner of his cubicle while he typed things. And that was the exciting part. I had never experienced such Lack of entertainment. I felt like every second I lingered I was losing more brain cells.
"Is it time to go yet?" I whined, trying to ensnare every ounce of boredom I contained in those six words.
"It's only eight. I get home at nine," this time he literally rolled his eyes. Wow! Attitude! Because that's always helpful!
"Can I walk home?" I suggested, believing I was bringing up a perfectly valid point.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is on the street at night?" he actually turned around so I could see his exasperated expression. Wow. He must be serious.
"Mleh," I stuck out my tongue, "Which one gets pics of Spiderman?" I attempted to bring up anything remotely interesting. Like Spiderman. Spiderman was definitely on the interesting list.
"Parker, he isn't here right now," my dad had resumed not looking at me, preferring to talk into his desk.
The building suddenly exploded in movement, the structure rocking about haphazardly. I failed my mission to grab anything to support myself, instead getting my first proper introduction with the floor. Hello, floor.
"Olivia! Are you okay?" my dad asked, frantically helping me up as anther quake erupted. This one took him down, and I had to roll onto my stomach to avoid being crushed by 300 lbs of dad.
There were far more impressive ways to go.
"Yeah," I rubbed my elbow, which had begun to smart. Perfect. That's exactly what I need, "What's going on?"
"The city's in mayhem!" an African American man cried, his rolls of fat jiggling under his cheap navy suit as he bounced into the room, "The Sinister Syndicate captured the statue of liberty with an anti-gravity gun, and all hell's breaking loose! Crime rates are through the roof!"
Well, good someone knew what was going on. The Sinister Syndicate, who were they again? Doctor Octopus, I remembered, The Scream, Hobgoblin, Hydro-man, and… Electro! Good I knew what was going on.
"Everyone!" JJ grumbled, "I suppose we should go into the basement so you're safe," the sincerity was taken away by the malice in his voice, "I don't get paid enough for this…"
The infamous Jonah Jameson, owner of the Daily Bugle and my dad's least favorite person. I liked to call him a little ray of sunshine. Not to his face of course, that guy's terrifying.
Once we were gathered, JJ made the big announcement. And by big announcement, I don't mean, "Surprise birthday party!" or "You just one a hundred dollars!" or even "Look! It's Spiderman!". No, I mean the "Most of you are probably gonna die!" big announcement.
"Okay," he frowned, "I really need to get someone out there. I hate to do this, which is really saying something, but can I get some of you to go? The techys developed a vehicle called the Scoop. It video tapes everything you see and sends it to my computer. I'll be able to talk to you, and it can be manually controlled. It needs six people to operate. Any volunteers?"
The nine of us looked at each other with looks so suspicious it scared me. These people each thought they were going to survive, and if that meant pushing another man into the line of fire, so be it. I started to raise my hand because, come on, Spiderman, but my dad instantly smacked it back down. Since JJ and I were pretty much out of the option, that left the other seven.
"Okay," he pointed, "You, you, you, you, you, and you."
One of those was my dad. Goofy dad. Slightly annoying in the morning dad. Dad who I liked much better, you know, not dead.
"No way," he glared, "You'll get us all killed!"
"I'll double your salary," wow, JJ was offering money? This must really mean a lot to him.
"No," my dad's glare never faltered.
"Then you're fired," JJ shrugged. His demeanor was nonchalant, but there was a cruel gleam in his eyes.
My dad visibly paled. It was hard enough to get a well-paying job in NYC, and he had a family to support, "Fine."
"I knew you'd see thing my way. Come on," he turned, not waiting to see if we followed.
We went up the stairs and into a sort of garage. In it was a blue… thingy, which resembled a miniature tank without a top. Painted on was the word SCOOP.
"Can I come?" I asked, batting my eyelashes sarcastically, the picture of angelicness. Okay, guys, sorry to interrupt, but spell check just tried to correct angelicness to angularness. "The picture of angularness." Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.
"NO! Absolutely not." He growled. I actually stepped back. My dad just growled. Dogs, dogs growl Dads? Not so much.
"Fine!" I pouted, "Be that way!"
He cautiously boarded the SCOOP, as if it might bite him. I, on the other hand, far more oblivious to the dangers, was attempting to smother a laugh.
"Good luck!" JJ smiled with false enthusiasm, even throwing in a cheery, facetious little wave. I love that guy.
He went to his computer to start the auto drive. That's when I slipped into the trunk.
I felt the SCOOP engine roar and roll outside. Into the dreaded unknown!
"So," JJ asked, turning to the spot I used to reside, "What do little girls like to do for… shit."