The Month Peter Parker Learned Humility
Chapter 6: Thursday September 6th
New York Police Department Criminal Investigations Report #ASM300588
Officer In Charge of Investigation: Daniel O'Brady
Time of Activity: 1:19 AM
Report/Notes of Importance:
An Asian, overweight male suspect had been approaching an older Caucasian gentleman, leaving a popular bar, Stan's Stout, on the corner of 25th and 9th. The suspect demanded the older gentleman give him everything his wallet held. Credit Cards, cash, IDs, the suspect demanded everything. The older man refused, and the suspect then pulled an unlicensed, loaded .45 caliber pistol, pointing it directly at the older man's head. Fearful for his life, the older gentleman screams "HELP! HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME!". The suspect then shoots a nearby trash can, proving this gun is loaded and he is not afraid to shoot this older man down. In response to these threats, the older man continues to scream for help. A male, muscular humanoid figure, doused in what appeared to be oil or black tar, jumps down between the two persons of interest. He had a large white spider on his chest and back, along with white, rounded out triangular eyes, looking possibly extra-terrestrial.
The armed gunman then switches his pistol aim from the older man to this new, strange being. He shot the creature in the head, with the figure not flinching or seemingly hurt in any shape or form. Now both the gunman and older man are terrified, albeit for different reasons. The third, black figure firmly grabs the suspect's left forearm, hairline fracturing that arm and throws the gunman towards the same trash can he had shot earlier. The gunman landed directly on his spine, breaking multiple spinal bones. The figure then "stretched its right arm", clung onto a nearby building rooftop, swung upward and towards 8th Ave. It never spoke, or acknowledged the existence of the older man.
New York Police Department Criminal Investigations Report #WO54M7945
Officer In Charge of Investigation: Marcus Ramirez
Time of Activity: 2:28 AM
Report/Notes of Importance:
An Eastern European, above-average height male suspect is exiting the popular mutant-friendly nightclub Scales, Tails and Ales on 56th St and Broadway. He is extremely intoxicated, and vomiting inside a public garbage can profusely on the corner of 57th and Broadway. In his drunken stupor, he walks up to different groups of young, attractive women in the hopes of having sexual relations with one, if not all, of them. One particular group of women had told him clearly multiple times they would not have any sexual relations with him, and the suspect soon became belligerent. He forcibly grabbed the heaviest woman, one of African-American descent, and hit her in the face with a glass beer bottle he had retrieved in the vomit filled garbage can. Suddenly, a lanky yet muscular, male humanoid figure made of black slime jumped in between the heavyset African-American woman and the drunken suspect. At first, the group of ladies were yelling foul, slurred obscenities at those not originally apart of their group.
The slime figure then proceeds to grab the head and right arm of the drunken suspect, and proceeds to crush the arm. Due to the extreme pain, the suspect lets go of the heavier woman and screams in agony very loudly. Bar patrons from around a three block radius exited the establishment to see what this screaming was all about. While holding onto his head, the black slime humanoid slams the suspect directly into the street sign lamppost of 57th St and Broadway. The group of women are now mortified at the intense, quick and public beating happening before their eyes, running inside a nearby pizzeria. The heavyset African-American woman, however, froze in trauma and watched the scene unfold in real time. She tried to ask the humanoid what its name was, or if it even could understand her. The figure made no comment, stared her down, and launched a gooey hook from the palm of its right hand towards the parallel stoplight, swinging its way towards Columbus Circle.
"These reports sound familiar enough to me, Reed", a concerned Hank Pym states. "So you agree that this is a confirmed appearance of that goo I lost control of?", replies a shameful Mr Fantastic. "Yeah, this is that damn goo I shouldn't have trusted you with, Stretch." "Please stop calling me Stretch, we're not that close." "I'll do what I want to do when it comes to failures, Richards. Now I'M gonna talk to Spider-Man—" "He has a real name, you know. I told you it so you could talk to him CALMLY." "Yeah, yeah, I'll 'politely' talk Penis Parker outta wearing that goo and retiring for good out of the superhero game. He stinks, and I don't like him!" "Jesus, Hank. What the hell happened to the bright, happy-go-lucky futurist I read about all those years ago?" "He became a founding Avenger and learned what the real world is, Reed. Not all of us can get donors for our goofy space missions, thinking we can use a wormhole to go to Mars—" "We could, we have, and I just couldn't figure out that last equation calculation and you know it!" "Cuz you're not the smartest man alive RIGHT NOW, Reed. I am", monologues a cocky, cruel Hank Pym hopping onto a nearby winged ant.
END OF CHAPTER 6
