Peter Parker woke up the next morning, sewed with Band-Aids and stitches like a patchwork quit doll. He had gotten in late last night after arriving to the hospital and apparently being "mauled by a huge, black dog." He scratched his ass and brewed some coffee. He sat by the window in his crappy chair, staring at the phone. He had four missed calls. Pressing the play button, Jameson's screaming voice crowded the peaceful silence. "Parker! What the hell are you doing? Bring me photos or your fired! Yes, I know you're a freelancer!" He heard the phone slam down. The next message was a sweet, soft voice. "Peter, dear, its you old Aunt May. You haven't called lately, and I know you tell me not be such a worrywart, but please do check in. Perhaps you could come for dinner one evening. I'll see you soon, dear, love you." Peter sighed. A nice, hot, May-made pot-roast would taste real good right now. The next message started playing.
"Hey, Peter. It's Kimberly. Uh, I found your phone number in the coffee jar you gave me, so I thought I'd dial it and y'know, see you again. If you do want to get together, which would be the point of you giving me your number and contaminating my perfectly good coffee, then here's my number-" Peter dove for the coffee table the phone was resting on, and jotted down her number down so fast that it wasn't even eligible, and he had to reply the message again. It was too early to call her, he decided. So he listened to the last message, "Pete, its M.J. Look, we need to talk. Please call me back...please..." Peter pressed the delete button on the machine without feeling any guilt.
He dressed up as Spider-Man a few moments later, feeling sore and bruised from last night. He wondered how the two Jameson boys were doing, and he crawled up to peek through the old Jameson's office. Jameson was sitting there at his desk with a famous doctor known as Curt Connors. He had once been the evil mutated Lizard, but found a cure for himself with his scientific ways. He had helped Spider-Man in numerous occasions. Jameson was looking very uncomfortable and sweaty, awaiting bad or good news.
"Mr. Jameson, I can assure you that your son's mutation can be monitored to its regular monthly occurrence. My team and I may have found a formula to cure him of all his wolf features, but he'll need to stay for observation. Its very dangerous, Jonah." Jameosn nodded. "Oh, I know, Connors. Will you ever be able to rid him of the mutations altogether?" "Its difficult to say, I- well, it seems we have a visitor." Dr. Connors said, getting up and opening the window. Spider-Man waved. "Hiya, Doc. Wazzap?" "Discussing some scientific strategies for Jameson Jr." "Yeah...how's 'e do'in?" "Well, I guess. He hasn't gotten worse or better." Spider-Man nodded. "Jameosn." He greeted, awaiting a reply. "Spider-Man." Jameson coughed illy, ashamed of his good manners. "Well, I don't wanna be rude and interfere, tell J.J. Jr. I said to get better, 'iight?" "'Iight." Connors said as Spider-Man left.
Spider-Man felt him rip a stitch and felt the blood pouring out. He landed on a rooftop. "God Damn it!" He said, looking at the fresh, wet bloodstain. He sighed and sat down. What he wanted to be doing was calling Kimberly, but his 'friend', Johnny Storm, interrupted his pleasant pornographic thoughts, A.k.a. the Human Torch. "S-Man, what's goin down—eww!" He laughed at the blood. "Sure, sure. Laugh at a hurt dude, real nice." Johnny laughed. "You were thinking about a gal, weren't 'ya?" "How in god's name did you know that?" Johnny laughed. "Even with your mask on, I could see your drooling face." "Should I call her?" "Well, that's your call, get it! Ha ha! Call!" Spider-Man shook his head and swung off, holding his bleeding wound.
Peter Parker walked into his apartment, dissatisfied with his day, and found Mary-Jane Watson sitting on his chair. "Mary Jane?" "Pete!" "Give me one reason I shouldn't call the cops right now!" Mary Jane waltzed over and started kissing him. Peter, however enjoying it, pushed her away. "I'm involved with someone, M.J." She looked like she had seen death. "Wha-oh! Umh-good for you." "Just go, Mary Jane." She blushed and nodded. As she was halfway through the door, she said, "See you around, Tiger?" Peter shook his head. "No, M.J." SLAM!