All characters belong to Marvel unless stated otherwise.

The Fabulous Spider-Man

Episode One

=Bad Vibrations=

It's the night of the twelfth of August, nineteen-sixty-six. A group of four crooks, darned in shabby clothing with balaclavas fitted tightly over their heads, hold a young cashier at gunpoint. Scared, the young girl trembles as she pulls notes out of the cash register.

"That's right - all of 'em!" a gunman commands, eyes growing wide as he watches the notes stack up on the table.

"That's everything!" the cashier squeals, "Please, don't hurt me!"

"Put it in the bag, Schultz!" the gunman orders. One of the robbers walks up to the counter with a bag, emptying the cash inside. "Now you stay there, understand? No need to be a hero!"

Filling the bag and tying it up, Schultz motions to leave. The crooks pile out of the grocery store's entrance when a light shines down upon them. The four robbers shield their eyes, cast in colours of red and white, a symbol resembling the mask of one of New York's newest, finest heroes: the groovy, the swinging, the fabulous Spider-Man!

"What do we have here?" Spider-Man teases, the signal projecting from a belt around his waist, "Have you mooks not learnt anything over the last twelve months?"

"It's him!" the gunman shouts, "C'mon, we gotta get outta here!"

"Not so fast!" Spider-Man raises his hand and presses down on his palm, triggering his homemade web-shooters. A string of sticky, artificial webbing fires out, glueing the gunman's armed hand to the window of the grocery store. The other three crooks erupt into a panic; two arm themselves with knives, while another drops the bag of cash and breaks into a sprint. Spider-Man effortlessly leaps from the rooftop opposite the store and onto the street below, the landing causing no apparant discomfort.

"Last chance, web-head!" a knife-wielding thug warns with a slight tremour in his voice, "Back off, before you get hurt!"

"Knives?! Aw, shucks!" Spider-Man exclaims monotonously before quickly firing a web, hitting the knife's blade and yanking it out of the thugs hand before spinning another web around his ankle, tripping the bewildered crook and sending him sliding onto his back. The other armed thug charges forward, unleashing a terrified battle cry, only to be repelled by a carefully controlled blow to the jaw.

Hanging the two knife-thugs by their ankles from a street light, the gunman grits his teeth, failing to remove the webbing from his hand. "You little punk! I'll get you one day!"

"If you do, you'll have to be more creative," Spider-Man mocks, "I've dealt with thugs like you so many times that I could run rings around you while I sleep."

"Well, you didn't catch all of us!" the crook snidely remarks, "What you gonna do 'bout that, huh?"

"I suppose I'll catch that knucklehead the next time he does something stupid," Spider-Man retorts to a seething expression from the armed crook.

The sound of police sirens becomes present, growing slowly louder as the cop cars approach. Spider-Man approaches the glass next to the gunman, climbing onto it before turning upside-down, his head right next to the gunman's ear.

"And a little tip from yours truly..." Spider-Man mutters, "If you want to rob a store, don't dress like a robber. You don't do yourself any favours, you know..."

The web-head tuts as he scales the glass while the gunman supresses a roar of anger, writhing in his constraints as the wall-crawler ascends onto the rooftop before swinging down the street. A cop car pulls up outside the shop and two young officers get out, laughing at the scene in front of them.

"Officer Richards? Officer Richards?" a voice buzzes over the radio, "What's going on? What's the situation?"

"All resolved, sir," Officer Richards speaks with a smile, "Looks like Spider-Man cleaned 'em up for us!"

=Bad Vibrations=

A half hour has passed. The escaped crook, out of breath, scales the stairs to his apartment. He still glances over his shoulder, praying under his breath that the web-head didn't follow him. Fumbling his keys, he unlocks the door to his apartment and slides through, scrambling to lock it again behind him. He collapses into his couch before talking to himself.

"This... is no good..." Schultz pants, his mouth clutching for air, "This old type of crime... ain't enough no more... there's no way to compete... I don't got any super-powers..."

He pauses. Grabbing his yellow balaclava, he peels it off and throws it aside, revealing a head of short, unkempt hair and pale, greasy skin. As if a lightbulb has appeared over his head, Schultz's face glows with realization.

"Unless... I gave myself super-powers..."

=Bad Vibrations=

We flash-forward a month, moving from the dingy apartment of Herman Schultz to the clean student digs at the Empire State University campus. We see an elderly lady with a small frame struggling up the stairs, a cardboard box full of items weighing heavily on her hands. As she reaches the top of the stairs, a nearby door swings open. Out comes a young man; combed, brown hair and an athletic physique, he rushes to take the box out of the lady's hands.

"What did I tell you, Aunt May?" he lifts the box from her hands with ease, "My roommate Harry and I will do the heavy-lifting!"

"Oh, thank you, Peter - but I was only trying to help!" Aunt May responds with a relaxed sigh, "Is that everything, now?"

"Should be!" Peter shows May into their apartment; a decent size, two bedrooms and a shared bathroom and kitchen. May looks around, sizing the place up while Peter drops the box on top of a bottomless pile at his door.

From the kitchen comes another boy; his hair is styled more radically compared to Peter's conservative hair-do. Long at the sides and back with a sweeping, sandy fringe across his forehead, he could fit in amongst any of the rock stars of the day. He greets May with an attractive smile.

"You must be Mrs Parker?" he shakes her hand, "I don't believe I introduced myself: I'm Harry, Peter's roommate!"

"Lovely to meet you, Harry!" May Parker shakes his hand with a giddy smile, "And what exactly will you be studying?"

"Biochemistry, just like Peter here!" Harry pats Peter on the shoulder.

"Biochemistry, huh?" Peter asks, his interest suddenly piqued, "That's excellent! Boy, I could talk about it for days - what made you take interest, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Well, it's a complicated story," Harry slides his hands in the pockets of his jeans, appearing uncomfortable, "I suppose you could say that science, as a whole, has been our family's business."

"Really?" May implores, "What do your parents do, exactly?"

Harry gulps. "Well, you see, my father... he's the CEO of a company."

"Brilliant! That sounds like a dream come true!" Peter exclaims, "What company?"

Harry gulps again, louder. "Oh, um... OsCorp."

Peter's jaw drops; even May, a layman when it comes to science, seems surprised. "OsCorp?" she repeats.

"That's right," Harry smiles awkwardly, "I'm Harry Osborn - Norman Osborn, he's my father."

"You mean to tell me that your father is the CEO of one of the most highly-renowned scientific companies in the world - that not only are you the son of a multi-millionaire, but the heir to one of the most innovative scientists out there?" Peter asks, words spilling out frantically like water from a cup, hardly taking time to breathe, "And you're in this place?"

"Yes, yes," Harry confirms, though he seems embarrassed or even ashamed, "Well, I suppose I wanted to prove to my father that I could do it myself, that I could survive in the real world, outside of his bubble."

"That sounds very respectable," May commends, "So you won't be taking the position of CEO from your father, then?"

Harry winces. "Well... it wouldn't be so bad to stay involved in the company, one way or another," he chuckles, backtracking. "It just feels like my father has too much influence over me. I want some independence."

"You'd be insane to give it all up!" Peter expresses with an unusual degree of confidence, "If I were in your shoes, I'd be jumping at the chance to even be employed at OsCorp, let alone run it one day!"

"I suppose... maybe one day..." Harry toys with the idea under his breath before speaking up, "Anyway, that's a long way away! Peter, can I help you move any of your things? I don't mind helping you unpack!"

As Harry reaches down for a cardboard box, Peter catches something tucked in the very bottom, the glimmer of a symbol. Crested into a patch of red spandex, the silver spider shimmers. Peter grabs the box from Harry's hands, catching his roommate by surprise. "Oh - well, if you want, you can do it yourself..."

"No! It's just - well, you've helped me enough already!" Peter rushes to find an excuse, "Really, I can manage this by myself!"

"Are you sure, Peter?" May runs her eyes over the large pile of belongings stacked against the wall by her nephew's door, "You brought an awful lot with you..."

"I'll be fine, Aunt May!" Peter shows her into his bedroom; relatively small, it has a single bed, wardrobe, desk, chair, and a window overlooking the Empire State campus. "You've helped enough already by driving me here! I'll have unpacked everything in no time!"

"Well, if you're sure..." May looks around the new bedroom, her eyes watering. It's a bittersweet feeling for her. Peter takes notice of her emotions, lowering the box onto the bed and hugging May tightly.

"I'll be okay, Aunt May!" he reassures her, "I can fend for myself! I promise to call you as often as I can!"

"It's okay, Peter," May pulls herself away, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, "I only wish your Uncle Ben was here to see this. He'd be so proud of how far you've come!"

"I'm sure he's watching from somewhere," Peter smiles, "Would you like me to walk you back to the car?"

"Oh, I'll be fine!" May dismisses as she enters the doorway, "It seems that you have enough on your hands! Take care now, Peter; and remember to take your vitamins!"

Peter blushes red. "I will, Aunt May! You take care, now!"

Hugging again, the nephew separates from his aunt, and only maternal figure, as she exits the apartment. This is it - he is now responsible for himself, out in the world; but Peter already knows plenty about responsibilities.

A tap on the shoulder snaps Peter out of his sentimental moment. He turns to Harry with a blank smile.

"So, I've heard talk about a get-together on campus," Harry explains, "Something about getting to know the professors, the people in your lectures, that kind of thing. Sounds like it could be fun! You might wanna finish packing first, but if you want, we could..?"

"Sounds like a good idea!" Peter approves, "I'll just take this stuff into my room - it's gonna take days to unpack everything anyway..."

"Alright!" Harry claps his hands together excitedly, "Let me know when you're ready - I'll just be in the kitchen!"

Nodding, Peter ducks into his room with another box of belongings. Setting it aside, he returns to the box he first carried in here and, rummaging through, finds his Spider-Man outfit. Slightly creased but nonetheless folded immaculately, he holds it up before him. Who knows when crime might strike? A gathering of young students could be the perfect opportunity for a crazed, merciless lunatic to unleash carnage. With a quick glance outside, Peter shut his door to.

Moments later, Peter and Harry get ready to head out. Peter makes sure his shirt is buttoned up, while Harry ties the laces of his boots, propping his foot up on one of the kitchen chairs. Both stop what they're doing when they hear a series of three light knocks on their apartment door.

"You expecting anybody?" Harry looks up at Peter, who only shakes his head.

"You?"

Harry responds the same. Stepping over to the door, Peter spies through the peephole and gulps. On the other side he sees two girls; one a fair redhead, darned in a black-and-white checkerboard-pattern mini-skirt and whom Peter instantly recognised. The other was unfamiliar to him; luscious, voluminous black hair and smooth, brown skin, she wore a striped skirt and boots. Both were disarmingly attractive, enough to paralyze Peter.

"Who's there?" Harry asks, standing up and knocking Peter out of his trance.

"Oh - um, some - some girls," Peter stammers, stepping back and allowing Harry to look through the peephole. Harry snickers at Peter.

"Some lady's man you are, huh?" Harry teases, opening the door for the two gets. The redhead beams at Peter.

"Peter!" she grins, flashing her pearly white teeth, "I hoped you'd be here!"

"H-hello, Mary Jane," Peter flashes a grin, barely holding it together, "This is my new room-m-mate, Harry."

"Hi-ya, Harry!" Mary Jane smiles.

"You know these guys already?" the other girl asks, hands on her hips.

"Oh, only Peter here!" she rests a hand on Peter's arm. For the few seconds it makes contact with him, he doesn't move a muscle. "It's funny, actually - you know I was telling you how I just moved in with my aunt? Well, she lives right next door to Peter and his aunt!"

Harry does his best to hold in his laughter at Peter's tension. "So, you two have already met?"

"A few times, huh, Pete?" Mary Jane answers for Peter, who is only able to make flinching facial expressions, "We found out we'd be living right next door to each other! Oh, where are my manners - Peter, Harry, this is my roommate, Glory Grant!"

"Hello, Glory!" Harry shakes her hands, "So tell me, how can we help you girls?"

"Well, we'd heard about a little meet-'n'-greet going on outside, and M.J. told me about you guys..." Glory answers, "So, we thought we'd invite you on down!"

"Funny you say that - me and Peter here were just headed there ourselves!" Harry pats Peter on the back, prompting his silent partner to jump. "Whaddya say, Pete - mind the girls tagging along?"

"Oh, erm, no - of course not!" Peter obliges, following the two girls before waiting for Harry to lock up. Catching up with him, Harry gives him roommate a pat on the back.

"Watch 'n' learn, Parker!" Harry whispers under his breath before catching up with the ladies. Peter jogs to keep up with them.

=Bad Vibrations=

The four youngsters exit out onto the large campus, bustling with large crowds of other freshmen. Huddled together, the group stayed close as they moved from stall to stall before a distant figure caught Peter's eye. Could it be? Was there even the slightest chance that the man Peter saw a few dozen feet ahead of him was the same man whose work he had so closely studied?

"Wait, Peter!" Mary Jane made a weak attempt to ask Peter where he was going, only for him to be lost easily as the unassuming young man ducked through the crowd, approaching the stall where the man stood.

From a distance of mere meters away, Peter's suspicions were all but confirmed; in front of him stood a handsome man, his hair swept to the side. Barely into his thirties, one wouldn't assume that this relatively young professor was unlocking scientific breakthroughs that would take even the most seasoned scientists decades of research. Despite his elegant facial features, one might be surprised by the rest of his physical appearance; one sleeve of his overcoat dangled empty, unsupported.

"Doctor Connors?" Peter mustered the courage to make an introduction, "I'm Peter - Peter Parker. I'll be attending your lectures this year."

"Mr Parker," Connors held out his left hand for Peter to shake, "A pleasure to meet an upcoming biochemist!"

"And a pleasure to meet you, Doctor!" Peter grinned like a giddy child, "I've read all your theories, ever since I started high school! I could recount your book on cross-species genetics word for word!"

"I'm flattered!" Connors beamed, "Though I'm a little surprised that you could understand my work when you were merely a high school student?"

"Oh, it made perfect sense," Peter nodded affirmatively, "Your theories on combining genetics, DNA from one animal being utilized to enhance another..." Peter rubbed his chest, feeling his suit's symbol through his clothes, "It really struck a chord with me."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it," an impressed Connors motioned to the right sleeve of his coat, "As you are most likely aware, cross-species genetics is particularly important to me too. In fact, if it weren't for the injury I suffered in Korea, it's likely we'd be nowhere near this close to reaching a breakthrough."

A hand on Peter's shoulder distracted him; Harry, Mary Jane and Glory had found him in the crowd. "Harry, look! It's Doctor Connors, our professor!"

Harry smiled blankly at Connors, finding himself distracted by the empty sleeve in the coat but flashing him a smile nonetheless. "Hey, professor! Nice to meet you!"

"Likewise," Connors smirked, silently noting Harry's faltering eye contact, "Will you be attending my lectures?"

"Of course!" Harry cleared his throat, "Yeah, me and Peter here are really looking forward to learning from you!"

"I'll make sure to look out for you both at our first lecture next week," Connors smiled, "I've had many students express interest in this course. I see great promise in this year's class."

Waving them goodbye, Peter re-joined Harry, Mary Jane, and Glory. Glory glanced back at Connors over her shoulder before leaning in to her roommate and whispering, "Did you see him? Maybe I should have taken biochemistry..."

"Glory!" Mary Jane giggled.

"That reminds me - what brings you girls to Empire State University?" Harry asked, alternating his focus between the girls and the bustling crowd ahead of them.

"M.J. and I are going into performing arts," Glory answered, "Acting, singing, that kind of thing! I'm hoping it might help with my modelling career."

"A model, huh?" Harry grinned before flashing a wink at Peter, "Sounds exciting - must be a whole lot more fun than biochemistry!"

Their laughter was suddenly muffled by a loud echo, a boom that rang out from afar. Peter stopped in his tracks, peeking over the heads of the crowd to try to identify a source. On the road that ran alongside the campus, Peter saw the flashing red-and-blue lights of police cars.

"What's going on?" Mary Jane asked Harry, her being too short to see over the crowd.

"Looks like the police are after someone..." Harry surmised, "You see anything, Pete? Peter?"

Looking around, Harry found himself alone with the two girls again.

=Bad Vibrations=

Two cop cars pursued a light-green Ford Econoline Travel Wagon, which swerved dangerously through the Manhattan traffic.

"What the hell happened back there?" the officer in the front passenger seat of the leading asked in disbelief, "You hear that noise it made?"

"You didn't get a look at it?" the driving officer asked, almost scared, "Geez, what is that thing?"

As if to answer his question, the back doors of the fleeing Ford flew open. Crouched in the back stood a figure in a clashing outfit; a yellow all-in-one suit and balaclava, with a brown jacket and murky brown boots. It wore silver gauntlets on each of its hands, which seemed to glow vibrantly.

"Who is that?" the passenger cop questioned in disbelief, "One of those spandex types gone bad?"

"I don't know..." the driver's voice trailed off as the man aimed his gauntlets at the cop car, "What - watch out!"

A large boom burst through the air, and before they knew it the two cops found themselves being flung through the air by a shockwave powerful enough that even the car behind them became airborne. The two officers threw their arms over their faces, bracing for a hard impact... only for that hard impact not to come.

Looking outside, the officers found themselves stuck in a large cobweb, poised several feet above the ground. Leaning out of the window, the driver looked above to see its creator swing above them.

"Looks like this might be out of our league..." the driver tutted, "But if anyone can deal with it, it'll be Spider-Man!"

The van continued to swerve through the streets, narrowly avoiding collisions with vehicles, people, and objects on the sidewalk. At first, pedestrians reacted with horror to the speeding vehicle, before cheering and clapping for the hero pursuing it. The man in the back of the minivan held a different opinion.

"It's him..." he snarled as his gauntlets sizzled, "I've waited a long time to dish this out!"

Peter swooped down until he was on the same level as the van, trying to get a good look at the attacker through the lenses of his mask. "Looks like this guy's taken some inspiration," Peter noted his costume. "But what are those things on his hands? Surely devices so small couldn't have generated such force?"

Taking a deep breath, the web-slinging hero swung forth onto the door of the minivan. "Who told you marmite and mustard would be a good color scheme?" he teased, quietly examining the metal gloves on the crook's hands.

"Back off, web-head!" the crook spat as the gauntlets whirred. As they pointed towards him, Peter's spider-sense, his brain's alert to imminent danger, began to tingle. Leaning back, Peter dodges a powerful shockwave that knocked the door off its hinges, sending him hurtling onto the street before balancing on the removed door, riding it like a surfboard whilst clinging to the van by a web.

"Wow!" Peter exclaimed under his mask, "He could have done some serious damage if I hadn't moved in time! I'd better keep an eye out..."

Before he had time to utter another word, his spider-sense once again alerted him to danger. Another shockwave came flying towards him and while its force had dissipated, it was still enough to detach him from his web and to knock Spidey off his door-come-surfboard.

"Hah!" the crook laughed victoriously, "That'll show the web-head! He won't mess with me so easily!"

Skidding across the harsh concrete, Peter winced before standing to his feet and brushing himself off. It didn't seem possible; over the course of the last year, Peter had overcome so many common street thugs, wielding firearms and blades, that he had thought of himself as unstoppable; yet here, he had just suffered defeat from an unexplainable foe. Who exactly this man was and how he had obtained such uncommon weaponry was unknown to Peter, as he was far too distracted by his own embarrassment.

"What a humiliating defeat..!" Peter looked at the people around him, seeing their hero tumble for the first time. "That van is long gone... I need to recuporate, plan my next move!"

With one large bound, Peter leapt half a dozen stories into the air, clinging to the wall of a nearby building and quickly ascending.

=Bad Vibrations=

Returning to his flat, Peter, now dressed in his civilian clothes, found the door to his apartment unlocked; Harry must have returned. Peter cringed upon the realization that he had ditched his own roommate, worried at the prospect this might cause friction in their burgeoning friendship. Mustering the courage, Peter opened the door. Moments later, Harry emerged from his room.

"There you are!" he exclaimed, "Where'd you go? The girls and I were worried sick!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry..." Peter's brain worked overtime for a conclusion; as much as he hated lying, it had become a necessity to hide his alter-ego and protect those he loved. As a result, he had no other choice than to become rather good at it. "You see, I... I'm no fighting man. I heard those loud bangs, I saw the cops, I thought that maybe there were an armed fiend on campus..."

"Hey, don't worry 'bout it!" Harry reassured him, rubbing him on the shoulder, "I thought it might have been something like that! Still, if that were the case, you shouldn't have just left me alone with those poor girls..."

"I understand - I'm sorry, Harry, I really didn't mean to trouble you," Peter apologized before smirking, "Although, I wouldn't have thought you'd complain about being left alone with the ladies!"

"It wasn't so bad," Harry chuckled cheekily, "Oh, before I forget - our phone was ringing like crazy when I came in. Somebody from the Bugle wants you to meet at... what's his name? Oh, I can't remember - but they want you there, it sounded urgent!"

"Mr Jameson, most likely," Peter surmised before explaining to a confused Harry, "Oh, well, you see, I'm something of a freelance photographer. It's how I make most of my money, as the Bugle pay me for pictures; specifically, pictures of Spider-Man."

"Spider-Man?!" Harry exclaimed in disbelief, "No way! You know him?!"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," Peter answered humbly, "But he seems to allow me to take pictures of him. It's unlike Jameson to demand a meeting with me like this, though; I'd better head back out!"

"Oh, one other thing before you go!" Harry grabbed Peter by the arm, "It turns out leaving me alone with those ladies wasn't such a bad idea after all - MJ and Glory invited us over to a party at their apartment, tomorrow night! Think you'll make it?"

"A party, huh?" Peter entertained the idea, "I've never been to a party before - you can probably guess that. I don't really know if that's my scene."

"C'mon, give it a chance!" Harry encouraged, playfully punching him on the arm, "We're at college now; this is our chance to reinvent ourselves! It's all about trying new experiences, man!"

Peter chuckled. "Well, if you say so! It might not be so bad..."

In all honesty, the idea of attending parties never particularly appealed to Peter. Back in Midtown, he was quite the loner, having few people he could call a friend. Him being at a party seemed as ridiculous an idea as placing a polar bear in the Sahara desert.

"I'll let you go - but think about it! I'm expecting a yes!" Harry teased as Peter walked out of the apartment.

"I'd hate to let you down again!" Peter played along, "See you later!"

=Bad Vibrations=

The offices of the Daily Bugle had a frantic atmosphere; news had travelled fast regarding the incident involving the fabulous Spider-Man and the new unknown, unnamed threat to the people of Manhattan. Peter politely pushed through the crowd, apologizing as he squeezed between people and desks, before reaching the desk of Jonah's secretary, Bettie Brant. She looked up at Peter under a mop of smooth, black hair.

"Mr Parker!" she smiled, "Jonah's waiting for you. Knock when you're ready."

"Thanks, Bettie!" Peter cleared his throat. Knocking loudly as to be heard over the buzz of the office, Peter heard the familiar bark of the chief editor himself.

"Parker! Get in here!"

Peter entered the room to find he was not the only one summoned to this meeting; stood opposite Jonah, who sat scratching his bristly moustache at his desk, was Eddie Brock. A year older and a half-foot taller, Eddie was another freelancer at the Bugle. A greaser, he carried a too-cool-for-school attitude.

"Parker!" Eddie exclaimed in surprise, "Didn't expect to see ya here - ain't you moved into your digs yet?"

"Yes - this morning," Peter answered, taking his place beside Eddie, "What about you, Brock? Don't you have a new place to move in to?"

"Already done it, Peter," replied Eddie, "In fact, I moved in just over a week ago now-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah - enough of the chit-chat already!" Jameson interrupted, his tone more urgent and demanding than ever, "Listen, unless you two boys have been living under a rock, you've probably heard the news going 'round that the ol' web-head has gone and humiliated himself at the hands of some nobody!"

"Yes," Eddie jumped in while Peter shuffled awkwardly, "I was thinking we ought to give him a name - how about Thunder Gloves?"

"'Thunder Gloves'?" Jonah laughed, almost spitting his coffee at the two freelancers, "Oh, boy - stick to photography, Brock! No, I've had Hoffman come up with a list of names. 'Shocker', I like! Anyway, what we're calling him isn't what I called you boys here for - the point is, I need pictures of the guy!"

"Well, sir," Brock interrupted once again, uninvited. "You may be happy to hear that I happened to be out while Spidey fought, um - Shocker? Anyway, I managed to get the photos developed in time! Check this out!"

Eddie placed the prints on the table. Peter leaned over to look at them; embarrassingly, they only captured Spider-Man's defeat, showing him lying face-flat on the road.

"Hah! Perfect!" Jameson roared, "I can see the headline now! 'Fabulous Vigilante Falls Flat!' This'll do for now - but I want pictures of Shocker, understand? Whoever brings me snaps of him first gets double their usual pay!"

Peter and Eddie shot fierce looks at one another. "You got it, chief," Eddie affirmed.

"You can count on me, Mr Jameson," Peter promised.

"Yeah, yeah - what good are empty words? Go out and find him, for Christ's sake!"

The two boys rushed out the office, brushing shoulders.

"You know I'm gonna get those pictures, Parker!" Eddie taunted.

"Just you wait and see, Brock!" Peter retorted.

=Bad Vibrations=

In a desolate warehouse, we see the newly-christened Shocker, meeting with the two unaccompanied thugs who accompanied him on that day's mission. On the floor in front of him sits a bag of cash, their winnings from today's mission.

"You're still wearing that?" the first crony asks, eyeing up the Shocker's outfit.

"What do you think the whole point of it is?" Shocker replied defensively, "I'm trying to protect my identity!"

"Geez, you're really not the sharpest knife in the drawer, huh?" the second crony sighs in exasperation, "You don't think wearing that neon outfit is gonna draw more attention? You saying a cop wouldn't instantly recognise you in that neon yellow get-up?"

"Cut it out, will ya?" Shocker snarled, "Listen to you both whining when there's a bag of cash right in front of us!"

"Whatever," crony one clicks his tongue, "How we doing this? Splitting three ways?"

"With the attitude you two are givin' me, I'm tempted to cut your shares!" Shocker proposed, "You really think you would have made it outta there in one piece without me? You think that the web-head wouldn't have tied you up for the cops if I didn't blast him?"

"No, I don't," a deep, booming voice declared, belonging to none of the three members of this party. Each crook's face dropped, turning around to identify the source of the voice.

"Look!" crony two pointed towards the entrance of the warehouse, "Stay where you are!"

Through the warehouse's opened door stepped a large, bulky figure. Built like a tank, he wore a sharp black suit, fitted specially for his unnatural frame. At his side walked another man, smaller in height but still well-built, skin of snow white and hair of a similar colour in a short, military style. Not heeding the crooks warning, the two continued to advance towards them, prompting each member of Shocker's crew to draw their weapons.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," the large man warned in a heavy drawl. "I have one of the best marksmen in the world working for me. He has a sniper rifle trained on this position. He could take out each of you before you could even think to turn and run."

Successfully intimidated, Shocker and his crew cooled off. The big man and his aid stopped a few feet before them.

"Who are you?" Shocker asked, trying his best to maintain a tough exterior.

"A man who's interested in what you have to offer," the big man declared ambiguously. "I'm a man who's interested in how you so easily achieved what I have been planning for some time."

"And what's that, exactly?" Shocker demanded hot headedly.

"To find a way to counter Spider-Man," the big man explained. "And not just Spider-Man, but all costumed vigilantes in New York City."

"So what? You expect me to work for you?" Shocker rebelled, "Or are you gonna try and take my technology away from me?"

The big man howled with laughter. "I know you will work for me," he slowly stepped closer, parting Shocker's cronies while their leader slowly retreated. "I know what drives petty thieves like you. I know that if I offer you a big job, for the right payment, you will work for me."

"And what job's that?" Shocker gulped, no longer able to put up a front.

"A piece of artwork has been installed at the Midtown Museum of Contemporary Art," the big man explained. "I have a contact on the black market - the son of an oil tycoon - who is most interested in obtaining it. I'm sure you can imagine how much money is on the table here, given our buyer's heritage. A hefty sum will be awarded to each of us."

"W-why me?" Shocker stuttered, contemplating the job, "Why come to me specifically?"

"Because you are the only one that can stop the wall-crawler," the big man snarled. "And any other so-called 'superhero', for that matter. The three of you will break in, steal the painting, and escape. You will meet me here at exactly midnight the following day. As a group, you will receive a third of the total payment. It is up to you how you choose to distribute that money."

Extending a hand the size of Shocker's head, the big man grinned.

"What do you say?" he growled, "Do we have a deal?"


Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed! This will be a fairly light-hearted, campier fic in comparison to Spider-Man: Archived, which, while I still hope to continue, feels more intensive to write whereas this is more fun. Inspired by elements from the Raimi Spider-Man movies and the 1966-1968 Batman TV series.