2
"Well, good morning to all of you listeners! This is NYFM at 7 in the
morning!"
MJ woke up from a dazed sleep.
"7?" she rubbed her head, then slapped it. "Holy god! I'm gonna be late!"
MJ showered quickly, pulled herself into her jeans and threw on her High
School sweater. Grabbing her bag, MJ left the radio on. She also left the
door open.
*****
Harry Osborn looked through his binoculars. "The jelly has left the donut, boss. Over." Crackled the voice from the walkie-talkie. Harry sighed at his 'handy' man's language and put the binoculars down.
"Very well, Pedro. Over." Harry picked up the binoculars and watched Mary Jane Watson hail a cab. "Follow that cab, Jenkins."
"Very well, sir."
"Its payback time."
"Whatever you say, sir."
"Hand me the phone." His butler obeyed and Harry punched in a number. "Hello? It's Harry Osborn.."
*****
"Help me! Where's my purse? Oh dear god! Stop that man!" yelled the mom with three kids.
"I'm already on it, ma'am." Spider-Man had swung down. She was saved!
Peter hurled himself onto the pickpocket. The face was familiar. Taking the purse, Peter ran through his 'face base.' It was something inside his head, which had hundreds of faces that he could compare with one he was looking at. It reached an answer.
"Flash? Is that you?"
"Just let me go, you freak!" Flash struggled but Peter held him tight. A policeman ran to him.
"Thanks." Another policeman put him into the car. The woman took back her purse saying 'thank you Spider-Man!' over and over again. But Peter didn't notice her. The policeman carried on. "We've been looking for this one for some time. Frederick 'Flash' Thompson. How did you know his name?" Peter didn't answer. He stuttered.
"I..I..I've been looking for him for a long time too. Um, goodbye, officer."
Peter swung into his apartment. Flash? A burglar? Flash was the second- richest kid in school to Harry's first. Why would he need to steal? Peter pressed 'play' on his answering machine.
"You-have-three-new-messages." Said the monotone female voice.
"BEEP. Peter, it's Aunt May dear." Peter smiled as he took off his jacket. "I haven't seen you in a long time. Are you all right? Is your new apartment okay? Silly May, it's not THAT new. How is poor Harry? Was the move into his dad's house okay? Mrs Watson said he and MJ aren't together anymore.." Oh yes, thought Peter. "..Which you know already. He's been quite distraught maybe you should call him. I'm going to bed now. Call-." The beep signalled she'd gone on for too long. Peter smiled and deleted it.
"Message-deleted. Message-two," said the voice.
"Parker!" It was J. Jonah Jameson, Peter's boss. "Want another freelance? Harry Osborn, making new company." Peter stood to attention in his uniform. "You do pictures, article. 5th. That's in two days, or a week gone if you've missed it, depending on when you get this message. Get to it!" Peter kept the message.
"Message-three."
"Peter?" It was a voice, whispering, frightened.
"MJ?" said Peter, attentive.
"Listen, I'm so scared! Please, get Spider-Man. I'm in some sort of huge room. Please, get him, Peter. Help me!" It cut off. Peter started to pull on his mask. Why didn't the spider-sense work? He kept thinking. Then the sudden and familiar blur signalled something was wrong.
"What are the bastards doing to her?" he left the apartment, locking the door but leaving by the window, not even checking if the coast was clear. MJ was in trouble, which was all that mattered. Just as he'd left, the phone started to ring. Unanswered, the machine kicked in.
"Hey, this is Peter Parker. I'm sorry I'm not in at the moment but leave your number and message after the beep and I'll get back to you. Bye," said Peter's voice from the machine. *BEEP* Silence.
"Can Spider-Man come out to play?"
*****
Harry Osborn looked through his binoculars. "The jelly has left the donut, boss. Over." Crackled the voice from the walkie-talkie. Harry sighed at his 'handy' man's language and put the binoculars down.
"Very well, Pedro. Over." Harry picked up the binoculars and watched Mary Jane Watson hail a cab. "Follow that cab, Jenkins."
"Very well, sir."
"Its payback time."
"Whatever you say, sir."
"Hand me the phone." His butler obeyed and Harry punched in a number. "Hello? It's Harry Osborn.."
*****
"Help me! Where's my purse? Oh dear god! Stop that man!" yelled the mom with three kids.
"I'm already on it, ma'am." Spider-Man had swung down. She was saved!
Peter hurled himself onto the pickpocket. The face was familiar. Taking the purse, Peter ran through his 'face base.' It was something inside his head, which had hundreds of faces that he could compare with one he was looking at. It reached an answer.
"Flash? Is that you?"
"Just let me go, you freak!" Flash struggled but Peter held him tight. A policeman ran to him.
"Thanks." Another policeman put him into the car. The woman took back her purse saying 'thank you Spider-Man!' over and over again. But Peter didn't notice her. The policeman carried on. "We've been looking for this one for some time. Frederick 'Flash' Thompson. How did you know his name?" Peter didn't answer. He stuttered.
"I..I..I've been looking for him for a long time too. Um, goodbye, officer."
Peter swung into his apartment. Flash? A burglar? Flash was the second- richest kid in school to Harry's first. Why would he need to steal? Peter pressed 'play' on his answering machine.
"You-have-three-new-messages." Said the monotone female voice.
"BEEP. Peter, it's Aunt May dear." Peter smiled as he took off his jacket. "I haven't seen you in a long time. Are you all right? Is your new apartment okay? Silly May, it's not THAT new. How is poor Harry? Was the move into his dad's house okay? Mrs Watson said he and MJ aren't together anymore.." Oh yes, thought Peter. "..Which you know already. He's been quite distraught maybe you should call him. I'm going to bed now. Call-." The beep signalled she'd gone on for too long. Peter smiled and deleted it.
"Message-deleted. Message-two," said the voice.
"Parker!" It was J. Jonah Jameson, Peter's boss. "Want another freelance? Harry Osborn, making new company." Peter stood to attention in his uniform. "You do pictures, article. 5th. That's in two days, or a week gone if you've missed it, depending on when you get this message. Get to it!" Peter kept the message.
"Message-three."
"Peter?" It was a voice, whispering, frightened.
"MJ?" said Peter, attentive.
"Listen, I'm so scared! Please, get Spider-Man. I'm in some sort of huge room. Please, get him, Peter. Help me!" It cut off. Peter started to pull on his mask. Why didn't the spider-sense work? He kept thinking. Then the sudden and familiar blur signalled something was wrong.
"What are the bastards doing to her?" he left the apartment, locking the door but leaving by the window, not even checking if the coast was clear. MJ was in trouble, which was all that mattered. Just as he'd left, the phone started to ring. Unanswered, the machine kicked in.
"Hey, this is Peter Parker. I'm sorry I'm not in at the moment but leave your number and message after the beep and I'll get back to you. Bye," said Peter's voice from the machine. *BEEP* Silence.
"Can Spider-Man come out to play?"
