Part Two

            Peter sat beside his old friend Harry Osborn at the cafeteria. "Hey, I haven't seen you in a while." He remarked gently, "How are things going?"

            In response, Harry sat on the small round seat blankly staring at the dish on his trey, "Oh?" He picked at his fries, "I hadn't noticed."

            "Hmm, well, I-uh-guess things are going okay." Peter patted Harry on the back, "How's your dad?"

            "My father?" Harry stared at Peter with a puzzled look, "He's a great man, one of the greatest."

            Peter sighed, he wasn't speaking to a friend, this was a shell; an empty case for what once was a good young man. "I guess." He replied not wishing to contest the bizarre claim.

            "Yellow eyes, that's all I can remember."  Harry stated emotionlessly, "Burning yellow eyes."

            Peter's eyes raised suddenly, "What? What did you say?" Yellow eyes, those simple and seemingly meaningless words sent shivers down his spine, "What about yellow eyes?"

            Harry grimaced, "Leave me alone."

            Gwen smiled slyly at Peter as they walked to the English class. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

            She shrugged, "No reason in particular."

            "Okay." Peter replied oddly, "What?"

            "Hey, don't forget to bring comfortable shoes." Gwen suggested, "You'll need them." She tugged at his arm gently, "And please, Pete, dress nicely."

            Peter nodded, "Yeah, I've got a suit ready for tonight and everything."

            Gwen blushed slightly, "No, I mean dress nicely for a night out, not for dinner." She nodded, "Do you get my drift?"

            "We're not going to dinner are we?" Peter asked.

            "My dad does and I just told his friend who owns the restaurant to say we were there. I've got something a little more special planned to help you unwind. It'll give us an opportunity to get to know each other a little bit more intimately."

            Peter raised an eye, "Is this going to be painful?"

            Gwen shook her head, "Only if you're adverse to fun."

            "This is definitely going to be painful." Peter remarked. Nothing gets in the way; I tell her tonight, there's no backing out now.  

            High above New York City the HobGoblin planned atop his roaring glider. His dull-grey lips curled around his face. "The day of reckoning is drawing close for Norman Osborn."

            He banked down deeper into the city. "I will not allow him to hide behind his corporate veil, oh how protecting it is." The HobGoblin zipped through the streets and intersections with ease. Every few blocks he'd come across a crater or a torn building left over from the incident involving Venom.

            "To draw Spider-Man in, I'll need to attract his attention. While his identity eludes me, from reports I've concluded that he lives in Queens. It's the only reasonable way to explain his reaction time to incidents there."

            The HobGoblin looked in his satchel and smiled at the pumpkin grenades inside. "If a few homes in Queens must burn for Spider-Man to notice me, so be it."

            "What is this place?" Peter asked as Gwen led him to a rectangular nondescript building situated at a bland corner of Queens. He had passed by the place a few times but had never taken notice of it.

            Gwen laughed, "You'll see." She said slyly and grabbed his hand dragging him towards the building.

            The sun was beginning to set, casting night across the city. Peter just hoped there was a nice quiet spot inside the building where he could tell Gwen what needed to be said.

            She brought him to the door, covered in shadows and knocked on the door. The door opened and a huge fat man opened it, "Hey, look who it is, haven't seen you in a while."

            "Stuff kept on coming up." Gwen replied, "Come on, let me in."

            Peter grimaced. Something's not right, that all too familiar feeling is telling me to get the hell out of here while I've got a chance

            The fat man nodded; "Fine, go on in. Keep an eye on your friend there; I've never seen him before."

            "He's cool." Gwen assured the man at the door. She led and Peter followed her into the building.

            Once through the front door, Peter's senses were assaulted. "This is a night club?!" Peter blurted out. He was on an upper landing that led down to a dance floor. The music was blaring, some sort of techno, while the light show basked any given person in any particular color that randomness chose.

            "Yeah, this is great, isn't it?" Gwen said, "Come on."

            Peter grimaced, "Y-you know, I really don't know how to dance." He stammered looking at some young girl standing by a banister with a face covered in piercings.

            "It's really easy." She promised bringing Peter to the edge of the dance floor, "It's just some bumping and grinding, that's all, you'll get the hang of it quick, trust me."

            Peter spotted three people, two young women and a single man all nearly on top of each other. His expression became one of anxiety, "I don't know if I want to get the hang of this."

            "Will you just trust me?" Gwen dragged him in towards the center.

            He began to bump into people along the way. "Sorry." He muttered. Peter nearly tripped over another, "My mistake, sorry about that."

            Gwen suddenly stopped and pressed her body against his, "You're going to love this."

            The house went up in flames and the HobGoblin cackled. Bystanders in the street ran every which way to escape the destruction. "I've already decimated an entire street block and still no sight of Spider-Man!"

            He closed his fist angrily, "That freak had better show his face soon or a lot more will be going down than some low income housings." He pulled another pumpkin grenade from the satchel slung around his chest, "Oh well, until he shows I might as well enjoy myself. I get so few opportunities for wanton destruction these days!"