Like costume superheroes? Confidentially, sometimes we in the comic mag business refer to them as "weirdos in tights," or "long underwear characters." However, not all heroes run around in their underoos. Some of them go out fighting crime while donning a shiny suit of armor, or just their average, comfy civvies. You've seen them all: Big, glamorous, bold figures in their adult years, handling adult responsibilities like it's no problem. And, as you know, they're about a dime a dozen! But, we think you may find our Spider-Man just a bit... ...different.

...

[*December 4th, 2015*]

"Keep crying, little Jew!"

That was the roar of Carl King, the most toughest and feared kid in the 8th grade, and possibly the whole middle school. Although his body wasn't well-shaped, this boy collected the strength of a level one boxing champion. He could have any girl he ever wanted. He could have any friend he wanted. Carl was dominant of the school grounds. Lord have mercy for whatever crook who tries to cross his path. Oh, but the story isn't about him, nor is he the protagonist of our tale. This is really the tale of a boy named Peter Parker.

Wimpy, weak, short, geeky, scrawny, doormat, glasses-wearing Peter Parker. The one who didn't know how to make himself friends, and isn't the most masculine fella you've ever seen. Right now at this moment, he is tied to a goal post, shedding tears of pain, while Carl flung footballs straight at him. His backup men were laughing out of amusement. One was recording the show on his phone, without regarding how poor Peter would feel. While putting him through this pain ride, they'd laugh at him, taunt, and even bring his uncle into it. Carl had a knack for tormenting the weak, pint-sized, girly men for his own pleasure. Of all boys he's taken a crack at, he was Peter Parker's "biggest fan."

That's not all he's done to Puny Parker. He'd take food off of his tray whenever he was still hungry. Him and the gang would steal his clothes before he gets out of the gym shower, just for laughs. He would give Peter a beating for failing to help him ace a grade he's been aiming for. His torture towards Peter wasn't just physical, but emotional as well. He degrades Peter for being non-masculine, being a Star Wars nerd, having an uncle that looks like "the guy from Sea Biscuit and Great Gatsby," and etc. Bullies like these are only fiction, but Carl was real as day. He laughs, and the school laughs with him. Peter restraints himself from fighting back. He knows he'd never stand a chance. The principal has done nothing to stop this because of the old slogan, "boys will be boys."

Nobody wants to take a walk in Peter's shoes. He was not the best at conversation starters. He had trouble talking to girls, or any gender for that matter. Boys would throw insults at him, including some inappropriate slurs. He wasn't a favorite to just about almost everyone in the 8th grade, due to being too smart for his own good. Peter never had any friends. Not because other teenagers can be unwittingly so cruel to the young man for being smarter than all of them, but because Peter is too timid to jump at that chance. Poor boy lacked confidence. Well, he had an online friend named "Osbored97." If only he could hear from him again after a year.

"Sally... Hey. Ya know, there's this new Star Wars film out-"

"Oh my god, Parker, are you trying to ask me on a date? This better not be a date. I don't wanna be seen anywhere with you. Or anyone like you."

"Uhhhhh... No. I was just letting you know that there's this new Star Wars film out, called the Force Awakens. It received quite positive."

"And you think I would be interested in some nerdy little kids movie because...?"

"I'll-I'll leave now. Sorry for troubling you. (And it's not just for kids)"

The kids all giggle as you walk by
They're making faces, they catch your eye
You ignore the things they do
Hide the pain you're going through
You're hiding well
You're hiding well

No ones got a crush on Peter
No one wants him on their team
Kids can be cruel, when the kid isn't cool
No ones got a crush on Peter
No ones got a crush on Peter

...

After a hard day of school, he finds himself some relief when he gets home. The caring presence of his Uncle and Aunt. As soon as he walked in through that door, he was greeted by a friendly tackle, followed by a noogie, from none other than Uncle Ben himself. It was one of his most loving greetings during every Friday, since that is the day of his day off. Ben just can't wait to see his favorite nephew again.

"How was school for you, old champ?"

"Not this again. Doing fine as always, Uncle Ben! Now let go!"

"Ohhhhhh, you can do better than that, Pete-O!"

"Aunt May!"

Boy, have they been good to him. When his parents had died, just about the time he was too young to remember what they looked like, Ben and May took him in and did whatever they could to be the caring family every child deserves. They made sure he was happy, and they also made sure he wasn't spoiled. Though they didn't have that much money, they sacrificed everything to get Peter where he is now. He was smart then, and he's much smarter today. It'll only be a matter of time when he passes the exam that will enroll him into Midtown High, a school for intellectuals like him. Ben and May gave him company when he needed it. They comforted him whenever he was feeling down. They treated him like he was valid, no matter what other kids thought of him.

After shaking off the shenanigans back there, Peter went up to his bedroom to put away his school things. In his room, there were posters of the Avengers, merchandise, and he even kept the old ridiculous toy helmet he wore when he was nine. Peter had his first encounter with Ironman when he was wearing that helmet, and he kept it ever since. He sat down on his bed, and looked through the news on his phone, just to find any current events happening with the lovable hero alliance. He admired them so much. In fact, he wanted to be just like them. It was a dream he had since he was very young, and it still sticks to him to this day.

He didn't want to be a big, broke loser anymore. Not some guy who just lets everybody walk all over him, forced to take a punch from Carl every day. No, he wanted to be out there standing in the spotlight. He wanted to be a part of something big. It wasn't the whole heroics that interested him, but the fame, the popularity, and the powers. Anyone who's ever made fun of him would bow before him. If he possessed strength greater than the Hulk, Carl would think twice before coming at the nerd. Imagine flying through the air, lots of sight to see, with the wind in your face. Or he doesn't have to have powers. He could be a high tech inventor like Tony Stark, and possibly equip his own suit of armor, with plenty of weapons. He'd wear it everywhere. Working with the Avengers meant big money, all for the taking. He could repay his aunt and uncle for sacrificing everything they did to get him started.

Unfortunately, for young Peter, those will always be dreams. It would take some miracle to join the Avengers. Or at least be gifted with a special talent that would get him in. He can't turn into a jolly green giant, conjure up voodoo spells, or wield a shield. Worst, him and his family need the money more badly than you think. Both May and Ben are working part time jobs. He hardly sees them anymore. They don't spend time together like they used to. They're making the most of it, never having time for themselves. They deserve better than that. If he can't be an Avenger, he could always work for Tony Stark, if that'll ever be possible. The job would pay well, and he'd still get some recognition. He'd give his soul just to have a short conversation with Mr. Stark.

"Peter, dinner's ready! I know you'd never wanna miss out on Friday takeout night!"

"Heh. What's on the menu?"

"Hope you're craving Filipino barbecue!"

"(Actually, I was craving pizza.) Be there in a sec, Ben!"

Square boy
You gotta get cool, get cool
Square boy
You gotta get cool
Square boy
You gotta get cool, get cool
Square boy
You gotta get cool

Peter was a boy
An average, all American, US male
Mindin' his own business in this crazy world
But the world wouldn't leave well enough alone
Alone, alone, alone

He had some problems with the girls
He didn't quiet know how to strike up a conversation
No, he couldn't communicate with the feminination
Oh, it's a nation you could say he was an egghead

...

[*December 5th*]

7:25 am on a Saturday, and Peter was already up. After one quick trip to the bathroom, he then followed the sweet aroma down the hall. Aunt May was making her famous wheatcakes, while Uncle Ben helped set the table. Peter and May then had their first conversation of the day.

"Wheatcakes? Don't you usually make those for a special occasion?"

"Well, it's a special occasion today!"

"It's no holiday, and none of our birthdays... Oh! One of you got promoted!"

"Not even close."

"Someone died!"

"Peter!"

"Someone you hate, I mean."

"Why don't you just sit down, enjoy your breakfast, and then the answer will be handed to you on a silver platter."

As Peter sat down, Aunt May planted a slight peck on his cheek, then placed his breakfast down in front of him. Ben poured the orange juice for his nephew. Peter drizzled some maple syrup all over his hotcakes, then dug right in. For a whole 4 minutes, everyone just ate in silence. Some occasion this is turning out to be. Uncle Ben then handed him a bunch of napkins, telling him he had syrup on his face. As Peter grabbed the napkins, there was something hidden within. It was a brochure for The Museum Of Atomic Science.

"This is-!"

"That's right. I thought we'd have the chance to spend time together in a long time. Besides, it might help your young mind stay inspired. My young nephew deserves the best."

"This is so cool, Uncle Ben! But this looks rather expensive. How were you able to afford it?"

"Eh, I decided to take up full time on my shift."

"Full time?"

"You mustn't worry so much, boy. It's all for educational purposes, right?"

"Yes. I guess you're right. Thank you, Uncle Ben. Thank you so much."

The two then hugged it out. Full time? That means Peter will see less of his uncle now. He really wished he would just stop doing this. He doesn't have to do all of this.

"Care to join us, May?"

"Oh, I wish I could, honey, but I have to leave for work in about two hours. You boys go ahead, have your fun."

"Hahaha. C'mon, if you didn't wanna go, you could have just said so."

"Hey! What makes you think I wouldn't wanna go? It sounds like an interesting event! With all the... ...technology, and sciencey stuff."

"Yeah, yeah. We'll give your best regards to the atom smashers."

After Peter finished his breakfast real quick, he immediately rushed to the bathroom, showered, groomed himself, and then put on a fresh set of clothes, along with his favorite science-themed t-shirt. It wasn't just the thrill of visiting the museum that made Peter excited, but also spending time with his only father figure every once and awhile. Speaking of father figured, it took Ben about 40 minutes to get ready. After he was done, the two got into the car together. Ben started the engine and they were off.

Peter looked out the window throughout most of the drive. Geez, the crime wave in New York sure is getting worse. Muggers, robbers, carjackers, and the cops are barely lifting a finger to stop this. Aside from the criminal activity, he also caught glimpse of Carl tormenting a local 8th grader, forcing him to eat garbage. Now looking away from the window, Peter changed the radio to the news station, just to hear if there's anything going on with the mighty Avengers recently. After a 23 minute drive, they eventually made it. Peter stepped out with a huge smile upon his face. But, forgetting to watch where he's going, he accidentally bumped into someone.

"Watch it, you skinny little twink!"

"Sorry! I'm terribly sorry, man! This is all on me!"

"Hell yeah, it is! And what were you even smiling about, little boy? Huh?"

"I was just excited to go-"

The fight was then broken up as someone called the angry kid's name.

"Flash, stop trying to pick a fight with random kids!"

The angry teen then took his leave, and giving Peter the bird afterwards. Boy, New Yorkers sure are mean. When Uncle Ben asked if he knew that guy, Peter said he don't, but he hopes he doesn't run into him again. Peter decided to just shrug off that commotion and move on. Pretty soon, they entered the museum together. It was a lot bigger inside than the young boy expected, and the air was fresh too. So many inventions to look at, so little time. To the small ones, to the really big ones. To the old, ancient ones, to the new ones. Some were rare prototypes, and some were just non-working replicas. Peter took out his phone, and began snapping pics on whatever invention he came across, including the cafe and gift shop. He even took himself in the photos with them. Photography was one of his hidden depths. While looking at every displayed machinery, Peter would educate his uncle with trivial facts.

Uncle Ben suggested they dine out at the museum's cafe, but before Peter was ready to, he wanted to check out one last invention first. It was an old radioactive ray from 1962, sponsored by General Techronics Corporations, a company that faded away by the early 1980s, courtesy to Stark Industries. As cheesy and simple as it looked, it was groundbreaking for its time. The machine had been turned on, showing off its beam of radioactivity. Peter seemed to be one of the only people interested in it. People sure are losing respect to history. Despite how old the ray was, it was still working, and still safe enough for spectators to observe up close. The radiation was too weak to harm any human being. Peter took out his phone and positioned it for a photo.

Elsewhere, a lone spider was crawling her way on the floor of the staff's lounge room. She then squeezed her way into the air vent, but unaware of the heating system activated, her light body got carried away in the warm breeze, bumping into the walls a few times on her trip. She got blown out of the other vent, the one behind the old radioactive ray Peter was taking pictures of, and flew straight into the beam. Set in slow motion, the eight legged arachnid began to struggle as her tiny body absorbed the beam's radioactivity. After that, she made a safe landing on Peter Parker's shoulder, without him noticing. She started to crawl her way down. Finished taking the last photo, he put away the phone in his pocket, ready to join his uncle for a coffee. Then suddenly...

"OW! Son of a-!"

Peter felt a hot sting on his hand. Panicking, he swiped it off. It was just a spider. A little spider. Although that bite felt like it belonged to a tarantula. Peter set his eyes on it a little longer as he watched it fall onto its back, and then die. She wasn't dying from hitting the ground, she was dying from all the radioactivity her small body sucked in. Peter stopped looking at the arachnid as he heard his uncle call him. He walked towards the direction of the cafe, and when he looked back at the spider, he could've sworn he saw it glow. Peter snapped out of it as a random spectator accidentally stepped on its carcass.

A few minutes later, as the uncle and his nephew were waiting for their orders, Peter was feeling a little ill. His blood felt like it was getting hotter, his head ached, and his stomach was churning. He tried to act as though he was okay, to prevent this family outing from cutting short. Peter thought back at that spider for a while. Despite its size, that bite had so much pressure to it. It was like getting impaled by a flu shot. And its body... Why was it glowing like that, especially while it was dead? Could this be a new, undiscovered feature of arachnids? Is this spider poisonous? Is he gonna die? No, he thought, I can't die! There's so much in this world he hasn't accomplished yet. Like becoming a scientist, meeting the mighty Avengers, or spending the time he wanted with his whole family. Peter swears he's going to check this in with a doctor eventually.

Their orders soon arrived to the table. Uncle Ben ordered the club sandwich with an iced coffee, while Peter just had some plain water. Ben looked at him awkwardly for it. To excuse his illness, Peter told Uncle Ben he's trying to watch his "athlete figure," although Ben tried to convince him that he's skinny enough. However, one sip of water was enough to push his queasiness at its limit. Peter sealed his mouth shut, heading to the nearest bathroom. Some of it couldn't stay in his mouth, and leaked through his hand. Unfortunately, Peter couldn't find the men's room, nor could he even make it, so, to his greatest embarrassment yet, he spilled the contents of his stomach onto the neatly polished floor, in front of all those spectators.

The two had to leave the museum, even before they could buy a souvenir. Not because Peter was feeling sick, but because they got kicked out for messying up the floor. Uncle Ben wasn't mad or upset at all. How could he be mad at his favorite nephew?

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick, Peter?"

"I wasn't sick. I mean, I was feeling fine before, and now I'm not. I don't know how it happened. It was just so sudden, I swear."

"It could be a stomach bug, or a little too much excitement. I remember the time your aunt got queasy when I first proposed to her at Coney Island. She appeared to be a little too happy. Heh heh. Or maybe it was from having five funnel cakes after riding the roller coaster."

Peter would laugh if he wasn't feeling so damned sick.

"I'm so sorry our trip was cut short."

"No need to apologize! Things happen when we least expect it! It was all fun while it lasted. We could probably do this again some other time. ...if they're ever ready to forgive us for that accident."

Peter wasn't ready to tell Uncle Ben the real cause of his illness.

These symptoms have all the traces of a certain glowing spider. If he told him, he would have worried him. He doesn't want Ben to fear his only nephew dying. Maybe this flu is only temporary. All he needs is a good rest, and maybe some hot fluids. If it lasts longer, now would be the time to visit a doctor.

Night falls out! Takes my hand
Sleeping costs, but this brain seems to work overtime
Yes, this brain seems to work overtime
And with sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeep
Comes the awesome dreeeeeeeeeeeeeam
Dreeeeeeeeeeeeeam
DREEEEEEEEEEEEEAM