"Dammit! Stand still," the man screamed at the woman. All of a sudden,
he felt something on his back. It was sticky, and felt like rope. Then, the
man shot into the air, flying toward a wall. THUD! The man hit, and was
knocked out. Spider-Man walked out from the shadows, binding up the man in
a cocoon of spider silk. The woman the man was trying to mug stumbled for a
second, and managed to find some words. "Th-thank you, sir." Spider-Man
looked up at her, hoisted the man, now completely encased in his cocoon,
onto his shoulder and said, "Just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man!
Next time, I suggest staying out of dark alleys at night. They have a bad
reputation around here." The woman simply stared as Spider-Man shot some
silk from his wrist, and swung valiantly building to building until he was
out of sight. "Thank you," the woman whispered once more to no one.
Peter took off his mask and top, stripped down to his underwear, and plopped down on the couch. Man, I'm starving, Peter thought to himself. He got up and began making himself a sandwich. All of a sudden, the phone rang. RIIIIINNG! RIIIIINNG! Startled, Peter picked it up. "Hello?" "Hey, Pete! How's it hangin'?" "Hey Harry. How do you think it's hangin'?" "I think you're in your underwear making a sandwich," Harry said sarcastically. Not realizing the sarcasm, Peter replied, "How'd you know!?" Harry laughed and said, "Dude. You're way too damn predictable." "Oh really?" "Yeah!" "How's this for predictable!" Peter slammed the receiver down, and continued making his sandwich. RIIIIINNG! Peter, now irritated, picked up the phone and yelled, "Dammit, shove the receiver up your ass! I'm tryin' to eat here!" "PARKER!" Jameson's voice screamed from the receiver. "Oh! I'm so sorry Mr. Jameson!" "Don't be, Parker. My own mom tells me to do that." "Uh-huh. So, what? You want some more pictures or what?" "Damn straight. I the sales are starting to drop, and I need grade A meat for tomorrow. I'll give you a day." CLICK! As soon as I'm done with my sandwich. Peter thought. RIIIIING! Peter picked up the receiver. "No, now! Your sandwich can wait!" Jameson's voice shouted, and then hung up. Man, I am too predictable.
Peter set up the camera on it's tripod, put on his mask and costume, and bounded up the wall. The camera, set on detecting movements, snapped picture after picture. Peter bounded up the wall, then back down. He heard a familiar scream; Mary Jane Watson's. Forgetting about the camera, he leapt over the building to see five or six guys hassling MJ in the alleyway. Man, what is it with alleys these days!? Peter thought. He leaned over the side of the building and fired his webbing, pinning one of the guys against a wall. Another guy took out a .44 Magnum revolver, pointed, and shot. Peter's spider-sense went off like an alarm, and everything slowed down, slow enough he saw the hollow-point bullets whiz by him. Peter dodged them all, until the same guy decided a .44 wasn't powerful enough. POPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOP! The man pulled out an Uzi and fired wildly at the spot Peter was a second before. The man looked all around, but not above him. 200 pounds of muscle fell upon him, and started punching him. The other men were just as, if not more, armed than the first man. A flurry of bullets erupted around him. Peter felt something like a punch to the shoulder, and saw that a bullet had passed right through his arm. Leaving a clean, neat hole. Luckily, it only hit the skin and muscle, but never went through any arteries or bone. Peter, now fully enraged, shot webbing from both wrists, as he did with Norman that fateful night. They were pinned against the wall, and Spider-Man walked up slowly and casually, and gave them each a solid punch in the head, which knocked them out. "Hey! You have a knack for saving me! What? You do this as a hobby?" "Close enough."
Two hours later, Peter got home, where his Aunt May was waiting. "Hey, Aunt May. Something wrong?" "No, no. I'm fine. Just bored. Most people think I like sitting around knitting and cooking. I would rather do something fun. Therefore, I came over here. You're a fun person." Peter walked over to the kitchen and poured himself some Coke. "Nah, I'm not fun. I'm too nerdy to be fun," Peter said with a smile. "Not according to Mary Jane. She said you're the funniest person she's ever met!" "No, I just-OW," Peter exclaimed, as the wound under his bandage began to throb. "What's wrong?" Peter lifted his shirt sleeve. "OH, my! What happened?" "Oh, uh, I hurt it biking," Peter said, not letting her know it was a hole, not a scrape. "Well then, looks like I should stay a while. Help you heal." "Sure, I could use the company."
The next morning, Peter dashed out of the house to get to school, but, as always, he was late for the bus. No problem. He ran up to the side of the bus. When he banged on the side of the bus, and it didn't stop, he cautiously looked around, then let out a small amount of webbing, sticking to the back bumper and climbing on, not letting anyone see. He stood on the back bumper, riding the bus to school.
Next chapter: Peter finds out who the gang was and why they were hassling MJ, and he finds out the real meaning of pain... Please review!
Peter took off his mask and top, stripped down to his underwear, and plopped down on the couch. Man, I'm starving, Peter thought to himself. He got up and began making himself a sandwich. All of a sudden, the phone rang. RIIIIINNG! RIIIIINNG! Startled, Peter picked it up. "Hello?" "Hey, Pete! How's it hangin'?" "Hey Harry. How do you think it's hangin'?" "I think you're in your underwear making a sandwich," Harry said sarcastically. Not realizing the sarcasm, Peter replied, "How'd you know!?" Harry laughed and said, "Dude. You're way too damn predictable." "Oh really?" "Yeah!" "How's this for predictable!" Peter slammed the receiver down, and continued making his sandwich. RIIIIINNG! Peter, now irritated, picked up the phone and yelled, "Dammit, shove the receiver up your ass! I'm tryin' to eat here!" "PARKER!" Jameson's voice screamed from the receiver. "Oh! I'm so sorry Mr. Jameson!" "Don't be, Parker. My own mom tells me to do that." "Uh-huh. So, what? You want some more pictures or what?" "Damn straight. I the sales are starting to drop, and I need grade A meat for tomorrow. I'll give you a day." CLICK! As soon as I'm done with my sandwich. Peter thought. RIIIIING! Peter picked up the receiver. "No, now! Your sandwich can wait!" Jameson's voice shouted, and then hung up. Man, I am too predictable.
Peter set up the camera on it's tripod, put on his mask and costume, and bounded up the wall. The camera, set on detecting movements, snapped picture after picture. Peter bounded up the wall, then back down. He heard a familiar scream; Mary Jane Watson's. Forgetting about the camera, he leapt over the building to see five or six guys hassling MJ in the alleyway. Man, what is it with alleys these days!? Peter thought. He leaned over the side of the building and fired his webbing, pinning one of the guys against a wall. Another guy took out a .44 Magnum revolver, pointed, and shot. Peter's spider-sense went off like an alarm, and everything slowed down, slow enough he saw the hollow-point bullets whiz by him. Peter dodged them all, until the same guy decided a .44 wasn't powerful enough. POPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOPOP! The man pulled out an Uzi and fired wildly at the spot Peter was a second before. The man looked all around, but not above him. 200 pounds of muscle fell upon him, and started punching him. The other men were just as, if not more, armed than the first man. A flurry of bullets erupted around him. Peter felt something like a punch to the shoulder, and saw that a bullet had passed right through his arm. Leaving a clean, neat hole. Luckily, it only hit the skin and muscle, but never went through any arteries or bone. Peter, now fully enraged, shot webbing from both wrists, as he did with Norman that fateful night. They were pinned against the wall, and Spider-Man walked up slowly and casually, and gave them each a solid punch in the head, which knocked them out. "Hey! You have a knack for saving me! What? You do this as a hobby?" "Close enough."
Two hours later, Peter got home, where his Aunt May was waiting. "Hey, Aunt May. Something wrong?" "No, no. I'm fine. Just bored. Most people think I like sitting around knitting and cooking. I would rather do something fun. Therefore, I came over here. You're a fun person." Peter walked over to the kitchen and poured himself some Coke. "Nah, I'm not fun. I'm too nerdy to be fun," Peter said with a smile. "Not according to Mary Jane. She said you're the funniest person she's ever met!" "No, I just-OW," Peter exclaimed, as the wound under his bandage began to throb. "What's wrong?" Peter lifted his shirt sleeve. "OH, my! What happened?" "Oh, uh, I hurt it biking," Peter said, not letting her know it was a hole, not a scrape. "Well then, looks like I should stay a while. Help you heal." "Sure, I could use the company."
The next morning, Peter dashed out of the house to get to school, but, as always, he was late for the bus. No problem. He ran up to the side of the bus. When he banged on the side of the bus, and it didn't stop, he cautiously looked around, then let out a small amount of webbing, sticking to the back bumper and climbing on, not letting anyone see. He stood on the back bumper, riding the bus to school.
Next chapter: Peter finds out who the gang was and why they were hassling MJ, and he finds out the real meaning of pain... Please review!