Part Two
The female reporter for the Globe approached the surly old owner with her television crew, "Hello, Mr. Jameson."
JJ rubbed his mustache eagerly, "It's about time the city realized that everything I've said about Spider-Man was true."
"If I may ask, what made you realize Spider-Man was corrupt?" The reporter asked as the cameras rolled live to the world.
"Well, it was a number of things." JJ said proudly, "Firstly, my natural journalistic instincts told me Spider-Man was nothing more than trouble. Second, I've seen plenty of con artists in my times, guys showing up with flashy gimmicks and such but Spider-Man has to undeniably be the most obnoxious, two-faced liar of them all."
"He killed my son." Norman Osborn said sorrowfully into the television camera, "How do you think I feel?" He rubbed his eyes in a dramatic display of grief, "Excuse me."
"Technically, I shouldn't even be speaking to you." DareDevil said addressing Spider-Man while he approached the web-slinger who was crouched behind the ledge of a building.
"Like your record is clean?" Peter inquired, "It's getting bad out there, I can barely show my face without half the city going crazy and aiming for my head." He sighed, "Do you have any idea how many old people carry guns?"
Matt Murdock laughed and leaned against an antenna, "It's the nature of the job. We all have our ups and downs."
Peter shrugged, "Yeah well, I've been having more downs than ups lately. Listen, did you find that information I asked about?"
"Yeah, it wasn't easy though." Matt said rubbing his knuckles, "I had to beat it out of a few guys but the authorities are definitely approaching nearly every psycho, thug and lowlife in the city trying to learn more about you. This could just be the tip of the iceberg; the guys I asked had limited knowledge. Listen, Spidey this is definitely serious."
"When hasn't it been serious?" Peter asked grimly.
Matt grimaced, "You pissed…Norman…Osborn off. Despite whatever his public image is the guy has his hand in a lot more than is seen."
Peter raised his eye-lids slowly, "Tell me about it."
"You okay." Matt asked deeply concerned in Spider-Man's increasingly depressed mood.
Peter rose up from behind the ledge and leaned over, "Thanks for the information, horns. I'll see you later." He said jumping off the roof his future more clouded than ever.
Norman Osborn picked up his ringing cell-phone while working late over at the office. "Hello?" He said rudely with the cell pressed against his ear, "Who is it?"
"Mr. Osborn, I only wish to tell you that everything is ready for me to act." A raspy voice responded on the other line. Thunder boomed and it slowly began to pour down on the city.
"Wonderful work, I must applaud you." Norman said with a smile, "I didn't expect you'd be ready so soon. Remember, I want Spider-Man broken not dead." He turned the cell off and leaned back into his seat, "That honor will be solely mine."
Peter landed on a roof drenched in water. "I hate the rain." He said sneezing loudly, "I really should have made this costume water-proof." Peter complained jumping to another roof with amazing ease.
"This whole thing sucks. I've always tried to do what was right and what do I get for it? Jeez, I wonder if Osborn's got things in the right perspective sometimes." Peter asked in the middle of a leap which he nailed down perfectly.
An explosion shook the roof Peter was on throwing him against a ledge more clumsily than he would like to admit. "Please, not today, not in the rain."
The Vulture emerged from the smoke, "Spider-Man, I see you've been tracking my movements." He snickered proudly, "Well, let me assure you I will no longer allow you to interrupt my glorious schemes. I shall remove my greatest nemesis and New York will be mine."
Peter rose back up rubbing his shoulder, "How do you figure that?"
Adrian frowned for a moment; his eyes darted from side-to-side before he closed his visor either out of embarrassment or frustration, "Silence!" He roared diving in like a WWII bomber.
"Come on, man, I'm tired and soaked, and I've got a Physics test in the morning." Peter said imploring the Vulture's civilized senses to which the latter continued his charge.
"Fine, we'll play this but I can't hang out for too long." Peter dodged the Vulture as he swooped by and fired a spray of webbing that caught Toomes by his feet, "Okay, play-time is over." He dragged Adrian in who was screaming angrily, desperately struggling to escape. Another spray of webbing stopped the Vulture as he reached for a grenade and enveloped his entire torso. He then created a line which he hook to the ledge and lowered the Vulture to the street, "That should hold you until some police show up." He could already hear the sirens approaching in response to the explosions.
Peter didn't wait too long, the police wouldn't thank him; he was a wanted man and would have to act as such. He prepared to swing away leaving Vulture to the police when suddenly a bomb landed at his feet, "What the heck?" It exploded covering the roof in a green mist. "That's some smelly stuff." He said waving the mist from his nose, failing to spot the source of the bomb to his great dismay, "I-I uh have to go now." He shook his head, "Wow." Peter fired a web-line and began his new journey.
Mary Jane was watching the television in Peter's room when he entered through the window, "Ouch, you look like someone just beat your head in with a screw driver."
Peter frowned, his costume dripping water on the floor, "What? Oh, I ran into Vulture."
"That old guy with the wings, are you okay?" She asked concerned throwing her humor aside.
"Yeah, I-I guess, I sort of kicked his butt." Peter said sitting on the edge of the bed, "I guess I'm just really tired."
MJ shrugged, "I'll let you get your beauty sleep then, lovely." She yawned loudly, "Call me in the morning, tiger."
"I'm right next door." Peter replied.
"Oh, then I'd guess you better drop by later, tonight, instead." She said playfully and left the room, closing the door slowly behind her.
Peter took his wet mask off and dropped it at his feet, "Yeah, later."
Later, across town the Museum of Natural History was broken into. The security guards on duty responded. They were overwhelmed within minutes by their attacker who made his way through the halls destroying everything he could.
Priceless relics were destroyed, artifacts that held the only ties to long-dead civilizations. He stole nothing; this break-in had been designed to only cause mayhem. On his way out through the windows, the cameras captured the very distinct image of Spider-Man laughing every inch of the way.