The Spectacular Spider-Ham
(Author's Note: Hey, BasilioBoy777 here. I found this story in an old hard drive of mine a while back. It was originally a school assignment for an English class I had way back in my freshman year of high school. The assignment was to write an alternate ending to the book we were reading at the time, Animal Farm. Being a Marvel fan, I came up with this. I know that Spider-Ham is a spoof character Marvel made some years ago, so this isn't that original. I wrote this quite a long time ago, and it's severely lacking in quality; I'm aware of this, so you don't need to tell me. I just figured that I would post this here for good measure, and to show my progress as a writer over time. So, try to enjoy this simply for its context and my own personal evolution as an author. If not, believe me, I know why. Later, True Believers!)
Chapter 1: The Origin of Spider-Ham
Many years past. As Napoleon's influence grew, so did his greed, as if it wasn't big enough already. The other neighboring farms, Foxwood and Pinchfield, were fiercely competing with Manor Farm for profit. This greatly angered the greedy pig. His evil mind devised a heinous plan to eliminate any and all completion.
Many more windmills and buildings had been constructed since the pigs took over. Manor Farm now resembled a small town. In the furthest off windmill, Napoleon was experimenting with radioactivity, called Project-R. His objective was to develop a nuclear super-weapon that would easily destroy the other farms competing with him. Most of the other pigs shared Napoleon's greed and conceded with his diabolical schemes, all except for one. That pig's name was Porker, Peter Porker.
Peter had always hated Napoleon for his evil ways. Napoleon had both of Peter's parents executed many years ago, before the pigs' takeover was complete. Peter always secretly objected to all that Napoleon stood for, but consistently kept his mouth shut out of fear for his own life. However, he tried to ease the pains of the other animals, get them off the hook, and thwart the pigs' plans from the shadows whenever he could.
One day, Peter finally had it with Napoleon's plans for inter-farm, possible world-wide, domination. He decided that he would sneak into the Project-R windmill that night and sabotage it. Just a little before dawn, he crept out of the farmhouse, across the field, and into the Project-R windmill. He got behind the radioactive generator, opened the control panel hatch, and began fiddling with the wires and dials. He accidentally turned it on.
"Ooops!" said he said.
Unbeknownst to Peter, when he turned on the machine, a small spider was struck by the radioactive rays. Now irradiated, the tiny arachnid fell down on Peter's arm and bit him.
"Ouch! Something bit me!" said Peter in pain.
Immediately, he began to feel woozy. He shook it off and finished disabling the infernal generator. By now it was morning, and the rest of the animals were wide awake and doing their harsh labors. Peter stumbled out of the windmill, still feeling a little lightheaded. He heard some faint screams in the distance. He figured it was those nefarious dogs torturing innocent animals again. He also heard something violently squeaking gradually getting louder. Then all of a sudden, he heard a voice in head that sounded remarkably like his own shout at him.
"An out of control cart is coming your way fast! Quick, jump out of the way!"
That voice had come so hastily and loudly, Peter found himself leaping before he knew what he was doing. Then he saw a cart full of grain careening out of control whiz right by him.
"What the? I'm losing my mind! Do I have foresight or something?" Peter thought to himself.
Then Peter realized something freaky. When he leapt out of the way of the cart, he had jumped over twenty feet! Not only that, but he was now sticking to the wall of the windmill!
"Holy . . ." cried Peter.
He heard some hooves running toward him. He quickly jumped back down so nobody would see him on the wall. Two horses ran up to him. They were Puncher and Kicker, Boxer's two eldest sons.
"Are . . . are you okay, Mr. Porker?" said Kicker in a trembling voice. They were afraid they would be killed for this.
"I'm alright, boys. No harm done," said Peter kindly. "By the way, just call me Pete, okay? No need to use fancy titles."
" . . . Okay, Mr. Pete, sir," replied Puncher.
Peter couldn't help chuckling to himself. He walked over to the former out of control grain cart. He looked at it, examining its contents. It must've weighed more than one thousand pounds. Puncher and Kicker re-hitched themselves to the cart and started dragging it back up the steep hill.
"Here, let me help you with that, boys," said Peter.
To his surprise yet again, the cart weighed next about as much as a feather to Peter. He was actually doing most of the work. With his help, the two horses easily ran back up the hill with the cart. As a matter of fact, they could hardly keep up with Peter.
"Wow, Pete! You're so strong!" cried Puncher.
"Yeah, and fast too!" added Kicker.
"Nah, it's you two," replied Peter, not believing a moment of what was going on.
Peter started back for the farmhouse, wanting to take a nap and sleep this thing off. After walking about two feet, something tugged at his wrist. If he thought he was losing his mind before, he completely couldn't believe his eyes now. Strands of some material that closely resembled a spider's web was coming out of his wrist and sticking to the side of the cart!
"AAA!" cried Peter. "That's it! I've officially lost my sanity!"
"Somethin' wrong, Pete?" asked Puncher.
"No no! Everything's fine," said Peter quickly. He turned his back to the cart to hide the webbing from the horses' gaze. "Look over there!" he shouted, pointing to his far left. "You guys missed some grain. You had better go get it!"
With that the horses galloped off. When they were beyond the reach of both sight and sound, Peter quickly broke a sharp piece of wood off of the cart and used it to saw apart the webbing. It took a couple of minutes to do so; the webbing's tensile strength was stronger than steel wool. When Puncher and Kicker returned empty-hoofed, Peter acted as though everything was normal.
"There was nothing over there, Pete," said Kicker suspiciously.
"Really? My mistake," said Peter hastily. "See you guys later!" With that, he sped off for the farmhouse far faster than a normal pig could.
"What's eating him?" asked Puncher.
"No idea," said Kicker.
Meanwhile, Peter had gotten back to his room in the farmhouse in record time.
"What the heck is happening to me?" Peter thought to himself. "One minute I'm fine in the Project-R windmill, and the next I'm a freak of nature crawling on the side of it twenty feet above the ground! What gives?"
Peter paced for several minutes, trying to figure out what was going on.
"I was crawling on walls, hearing voices in my head warning me of impending danger, super strength, super speed, super high jumping, and webbing coming out of my wrists. Maybe it was the radiation? No, it was only on for a second. Besides, none of the radiation beams hit me; they were all aiming at the ceiling. Then that spider . . ."
Then it hit him.
"That spider! Of course! Why didn't I think of that before? I wasn't hit with radiation, but it must've been! Then when it bit me, its DNA must've fused with mine, granting me its abilities!"
Frantic, Peter began to formulate ideas about how to use his newfound powers wisely.
"Not that I've got these powers, what am I gonna do with 'em? I know! With these powers, it'll be the perfect chance for me to overthrow Napoleon! But if he were to find who I am, he would have me have me executed for sure. I'd better make a disguise."
Over the next week, Peter spent nearly all of his time in his room. He left only at meal times to eat. The other pigs didn't seem to care, nor did they act suspicious. During that time, he sewed together a colorful costume and honed his spider-like abilities. He practiced web-targeting, lifting heavy things, running fast, flexibility, combat skills, and using his new sixth sense that warned him of impending danger (which he called his "spider-sense). He mastered his newfound powers in a matter of days.
"Now that I've got a costume and I've trained myself so I'll use my powers correctly, what am I gonna call myself?" Peter asked himself at the end of his training session.
He thought about that for a few hours. The first name that came to mind was Spider-Swine; no, too weak. Then he thought of Spider-Pig; nah, that's worse. The name that he invented next was Spider-Bacon; heck no, that's even worse! Then the perfect name came to him.
"I've got it! Spider-Ham!" he shouted in his head.
That name was strong and short; powerful, yet quick. He was sure it would strike fear into the hearts of evildoers. Bad animals everywhere, beware! Now you have to deal with the spectacular Spider-Ham!