Edit: 8/10

Grammar

NARM (Really corny parts) pieces

Punctuation

Deeper dialog (Depending on your point of view)

Peter was going to stay on the building and crush some more pipes, maybe a piece of wood here, a beer can there, or something else before his stomach growled fiercely, causing him to hold it in pain. "So hungrrrryy…."

He looked around weakly, for any sign of money, or change or something of value that he could sell for money. Bottles, cans, anything! He couldn't find one scrap of it! It was times like these where he hated that people decide now would be a good time to clean.

And then he realized he was on the roof.

He went over to the other side of the building and grabbed the end and awkwardly crawled back into an alley separated from the lot by the building he'd just came from. He would have simply walked back to the store, and if things were always easy, he would have. But alas, they aren't, and he couldn't.

A small faint tingle in his head beckoned him to move on and being the impressionable child he was, he did.

{At that moment}

Two children were cornered in an alley by several people; all of which looked like they were harboring bad intentions toward the two. One of them, a teenage boy, stepped forward with a mischievous grin on his face that made one of the children shiver. In his hand he held a knife, and he seemed to be admiring it intensely before he glanced toward the two.

"Now I'll ask you again," his tone started out nice and calm. "Where is the money?" One of the kids was a boy; his short black hair hung slightly over hi face and the faint marking on his cheeks made it look like he had a tattoo of some sort. He tried to stare at the older male without fear. "We don't have it! Now leave us alone dammit!"

The antagonizer laughed. "Or what? You'll scratch me?" His smile turned into a grimce and his eyes flashed red, with three unmoving black dots in them. "Just try it. I'll have you crying home to mommy in no time. Oh wait! That's right! You two have no family, you little freaks!"

Another boy stepped up from the crowd of others, looking bored. He had on a fishnet shirt of all things with an earring and his hair tied back into a spiky ponytail. "Quit being so troublesome Sasu. They didn't know. Let's just get out of here before someone sees us. This is too troublesome." He took a puff on the cigarette in his hand and rolled his eyes when the boy rounded on him and glared.

"And then you'll have to explain why you wasted the money your mom gave you to buy cigarettes, right?" The teen paled, and backed up, holding his hands up in a defensive manner before he took his place back between a blond haired girl with blue eyes and a large boy eating potato chips.

"Now," Sam turned back to the children, dramatically flipping his jet black hair and glaring at them with his equally jet black eyes. "If you don't have the money to pay the fine of trespassing into our part of this hovel," he spoke with a dignified accent. "Then you'll have to pay the penalty fee. Saku," he snapped his fingers, and almost at once a girl with light, almost pink, red hair and green eyes appeared with a shopping cart and put them inside. She didn't look rather happy about it though.

"Thank you for riding Chiha motors. Please keep your arms, hands, legs and heads in the cart at all times. I fyou should die during the ride, then please consult the support agent nearby. Thank you again, have a pleasant day." He said with an almost sadistic tone of voice before kicking the cart out of the long alley and down the street.

-During-

Some people were telemarketers that were hated by the majority of the population for their horrible and annoying timing and cause, along with people working for ad agencies that sold ridiculous things that no one actually needed to just make a living. Others were hackers that stole credit card numbers and vital information to live, or in their free time would be pick pockets to make money. Some sick bastards as ugly as sin and driven by some detestable force just stayed at home and created viruses to ruin other people's day. He hated those people with a fiery passion with the might of a thousand suns…

Some people starred in porn.

Thank the merciful lord that wasn't his case.

As one of the key people of SHIELD, he didn't like his job. It had too many hard choices, to many bad consequences, and the people who held even more power over him then he did at his own job always worked behind his back, doing things he would never do. That and the paper work amount sucked big time.

Nearly twenty years of that would make anyone else go crazy. Like Deadpool.

Children and agents alike looked up to him. He was on posters, toys, lunch boxes, and shoes. Women swooned over him. Men envied him. He worked alongside some of the greatest people his country ever even saw. He met Captain America, who worked under him, asking him for orders. He was the leader of the Ultimate branch of the Avengers, or the east coast Avengers. He had money, fame, cars, homes across the nation, and power.

And right now, he would trade it all just to get home and get some sleep before his hands fell off because of him writing too much. Well, maybe not all of it. He wasn't stupid.

He assigned his second in command Natasha, a.k.a. the Black Widow to the job for a while. He felt that she wasn't doing anything anyways. She spent her days on the warms beaches of Florida, or in the favorable part of Los Angeles, pleasuring her self with martini's and cock tails and sea food.

When not doing that and was in town she was with some fancy pants famous lawyer Matt Murdock. Nice guy, actually-but considering he was blind and could still tell what you looked like, whispered, where you were in the room, and what you smelled like, it was a bit creepy. The red haired woman even gained a bit of a gambling problem, which given how bad she was at it, was how he got her to do the job.

But that was a story for another time. He looked outside the window with a look that most would think was an angry one, but actually a tired one. The sun was going down. That was good. Now when he got home he could kick off his shoes and release his inner child self that was being suffocated by all of his work. He really wanted to play the new Avengers game they had too; he heard that he had a cameo and a playable character in it. This was all before a rusting shopping cart came out of no where and got stuck in front of his car and was being pushed along. In his job he learned to think fast, as the last time he didn't it cost him his left eye.

Quickly, he slowed his car down gradually, so it could stop without any casualties. The inevitable laws of fate decided to spice things up by making his file folders with all of his finished and sorted paperwork somehow opened enough to split right down the middle and one part weighing down the accelerator and the other spread to stop him from hitting the brakes instantly speeding his car up.

Things were not going his way today. Not at all. Also, he made a mental note to sue the lousy son of a mother who invented the 360 binders that wouldn't break when bended.

-Meanwhile-

By the time Peter had gotten to the end of the street, he could hear a loud rattling sound and screeches of tires against the road. His eyes widened when he looked up to where the sound were coming from and saw a car (Prius) trying feebly to stop while it swiveled with two children in the front. His head whipped to the end of the street, where he was, and saw nothing but an abandoned building and a newsstand.

He unconsciously grabbed the jacket that was Venom and pried it to his shoulders, revealing his bare t-shirt. 'Uh-oh.'

He ignored what Venom began to say and ran directly toward the oncoming cart, and jumped into the it. The children looked up at him and saw he was no older than they were and looked at him in surprise. Seeing was a problem for him because he had to shield his eyes from the lights of the car. He looked to the two occupants in the shopping cart from hell and saw them shivering in fear, which they had every right to be since they would more or less become the first subject ever to be called 'human paste'.

For an extremely brief moment he wondered if he was extremely brave or stupendously stupid, because he could very well be the paste as well.

Jerking one up, a girl, from what he saw, he threw her out of the cart with ease, and just like he had did before pressed his middle fingers to his palm and fired two extremely thick strands of webbing that inflated when the hit the a buildings wall, and the ground, expanding seconds before she fell straight into it safely as his eyes glazed over to a empty silver like blue.

The other one, which was a boy, looked up at him in trepidation as he saw the lights seemingly die in his eyes instead of flicker off like they were lost forever in them. Before the child could protest, he was grabbed by the shirt, and with his rather tiny fist held attempted to free himself from the person's grasp. It was then that Peter jumped out of the cart silently and toward another wall as the car swerved wildly and the curses of the driver-albeit calm- resonated throughout the air and made his clothes that Venom made squirm ever so slightly.

His lifeless eyes glanced toward the car as it crashed into a telephone post at an intersection with another street with an empty, stoic expression. He had the other boy hanging precariously with his shirt firmly in his grasp, and the boy himself dangling from a dangerous height; thirty feet.

His palm held the rest of his body up as he started to crawl down slowly, ensuring the boy wouldn't fall to an untimely death from the pavement. As he dropped the boy down about a foot give or take a few inches, he suddenly blinked and his clothes shot out several tentacles as he gasped, his eyes turning back to there regular shade like dye being sucked from water.

-Meanwhile-

The driver of the vehicle cursed vehemently as his shining forehead met with the dashboard of the car and a resulting groan could be heard from the open window. Looking around, the bald eye-patched man cursed yet again at seeing his front window was cracked fiercely and some smoke was coming from the engine. That wasn't the problem seeing as he could just have it fixed rather than scrap it and sell it like some overzealous rich person would-which he wasn't- and buy another one.

Looking closer, he could see the shopping cart had been crushed from the force of the car and pinned between the vehicle and the streetlight, broken in several places and severely scratching and denting the front of his car. Though he could get it fixed, he couldn't help but curse again.

It was his favorite car! Why did he have to choose today of all days to drive it in one of the crappiest places of New York that could make Jersey seem like… like Brooklyn? Why?

Then he remembered that there were children in that cart and quickly surmised that either that had they gall to actually jump out of it to safety or by some divine intervention were saved, he didn't really care either way; they were most likely alive and safe, and not guts or screams would fill his ears and he wouldn't be badgered by the press for such a thing.

With a grunt, he opened up the door and reached down to the pedal and grabbed the large pack of paperwork in the binder and looked it over. Giving a satisfied nod of the head and smiling, he then proceeded to get out of the car and threw the binder to the ground in fury and stomped on it repeatedly before picking it up and chucking it down the street and into some trash.

Peter watched in confusion as he saw the strange man beat up the inanimate object and throw it in his direction. He ducked, wide eyed as the binder was launched down the street and caused several cats and dogs to bark in alarm as the buzzing inn his head receded. Looking back to the man, he wasn't sure if he should be afraid, or glare at him for doing that, but still he felt like he saw him before. As if on cue, the dark sinned bald man looked into his direction and groaned out loud.

"Son of a bitch…" The tall man continued to let out a string of curses under his breath, making Peter's clothes shiver in amusement. A name flashed through his mind and he could have sworn he heard Venom whisper something.

"Colonel Nicholas Fury, head of SHIELD. I thought he would be taller in person." But Peter wasn't really paying attention. Only one thing was going through his head at the moment.

'I can shoot webs now? Cool.'