For Peter Parker, life sucked.
This first-year college student was having money problems. Serious money problems. For starters, his ESU scholarship was going to run out after this semester, Aunt May needed a costly new medicine, the property tax bill for their small house was due in two months, and a certain hot redhead having a boyfriend far luckier than he deserved was making noises about celebrating her birthday this weekend by going out together on a formal date at a very classy restaurant to dine upon a lavish dinner…for which he'd shell out with a fixed smile on his face, naturally.
All in all, Peter's sole source of income concerning selling action photos of him in his Spider-Man identity beating up assorted super-criminals would barely pay for, oh, exactly three of those above mentioned expenses. Guess which one couldn't be covered?
Mary Jane was not going to be happy next Saturday over being treated to the best Peter could afford then, a soft pretzel bought by him for her from one of Central Park's food carts. Even if it came with free mustard.
In an attempt to forget his financial troubles for a while, Peter put on his costume and went swinging around Manhattan via his web-lines. Maybe he'd catch a break and foil one of his enemies' evil schemes. The glum mood he was in, punching Doctor Octopus or the Kingpin or even some anonymous crook in the mouth sounded like just the thing to cheer him up. There was also the possibility of taking pictures of this which were so sensational even J. Jonah 'Skinflint' Jameson would pay a decent bonus for these photos before putting the best shot on the Daily Bugle's front page.
Hey, a Spider-Man could dream, okay?
But…nada. Zilch. Zip. Zero. Nobody dressed up in with their most colorful underwear worn on the outside and possessing a grudge against the entire law-abiding world was making trouble anywhere in the Big Apple. What, was today some malefactor's holiday that he hadn't been told about in advance?
Spider-Man took a detour through Times Square during his futile search. Might as well as give the tourists there a cheap thrill.
As expected, lots of people with fanny packs and clutching their travel guidebooks while peering about in mutual confusion over how actually boring Times Square was perked up at seeing a genuine New York City superhero. Spider-Man grinned under his mask at seeing all the cameras suddenly pointed at him, even though he bet all they'd get on film was a red/blue streak.
Swinging down to nearly street level, the young man casually glanced to the left, only to blink in surprise at what he'd just read there. When he rose up to halfway the height of the surrounding skyscrapers, Spider-Man let go of his line and hurtled through the air to the side of the closest building. Touching feet-first there, Peter used his innate abilities bestowed upon him by the bite of a radioactive spider to cling to the wall and peer down at the New York Times Tower's electronic news ticker.
There, the letters marching past continued to repeat: SPIDER-MAN, PLEASE GO TO THE DAILY BUGLE ROOF – THEY WANT TO MEET YOU THERE.
"Huh, what's up?" Peter said out loud to himself. He shot out another web-line to start traveling again the Spider-Man way. In a matter of minutes, he was able to see the Daily Bugle building while in mid-air.
It looked the same as usual, but when Peter got closer, he noticed someone waiting under the newspaper's sign. With an expertise gained from years of experience, Spider-Man dropped right in front of the familiar person waiting for him on the rooftop.
"Hello, Mr. Robertson," came from under the full-face mask with its white eyepieces. Spider-Man's head tilted in obvious curiosity, with this inquisitive mood mirroring his next question sent to the mature black man thoughtfully regarding him in turn.
"You said you wanted to meet with me?"
Joseph "Robbie" Robertson, editor-in-chief of the Daily Bugle, cleared his throat. This wasn't going to be easy, but here goes…
"Not exactly. It's Jonah who needs to talk to you."
"Jameson?!," said a startled Spider-Man, unable to believe why somebody who considered him New York Public Enemy Number One would ever want to set up an appointment with this detested crimefighter.
He unnervingly stared at the discomfited newspaperman, before continuing at his most sarcastic, "Oh, sure, why not? I've already had root canal work and a proctological exam this morning, so might as well go for the hat trick. No, on second thought, forget it – there's things too much even for me. 'Bye."
Crouching in preparation for leaping off the Daily Bugle roof and swinging away, Peter was abruptly interrupted in this by Robbie anxiously saying, "Please, it's really important! I swear that Jonah will behave. In fact, that's mostly the reason you have to see him."
Peter straightened up to peer with growing interest at how Robbie standing across from him seemed to be feeling now. There was a lot of worry, intermixed with real amusement and a touch of awe on the older man's face.
That led to Peter asking straight out, "Okay, what's going on?"
"No, sorry," Robbie shook his head, "There's no way you'll think I'm serious if I try to tell you beforehand about it. I mean, I was there, and I still have trouble believing it. You'll just have to see for yourself. Uh, Jonah's agreed to give you a free pass for the first couple of minutes, but anything more won't be tolerated by him. Now, could you kindly come with me to his office?"
If this was some kind of new trick by Jonah to screw him over, it had to be a really imaginative one, Peter considered. Besides, he was becoming genuinely intrigued over the whole thing. No matter what Triple-J might get up to, Robbie himself was a honest and decent man who wouldn't go along with any such nonsense.
Making his decision, Spider-Man announced, "Fine, but if it's more of the same, your boss treating me like dirt again, I'm leaving."
"Oh, we're already way beyond that," Robbie sighed. He turned around, indicating for Spider-Man to follow after him. As Peter did so, that younger man couldn't help wondering about what Robbie had just said.
When Peter went down the emergency stairs with Robbie in taking this rarely-used route to the executive offices of the newsroom, he stayed alert to any possible manifestation of another of the strange abilities given to him by that long-ago spider. Mainly, the awareness of potential danger that Peter called his 'spider-sense' which expressed itself by a tingling at the base of his skull. This knack had saved Spider-Man's life numerous times…but right now, he wasn't getting the slightest twinge.
Hmmm, seems like everything's normal and harmless like always, Peter thought. That is, if you didn't count Jonah's supremely stinky cigars.
The pair came out of the stairwell into the building corridor and approached Jonah's corner office. The door was shut, and when Robbie stopped before it, he knocked there twice to then announce through the door, "Jonah, Spider-Man's here. Are you ready?"
An inarticulate grunt from within the office was the only answer Robbie got. That seemed to be enough for him to open the door and enter, glancing over his shoulder at where Spider-Man got the message to come along after. Still wary of whatever was going on, Peter took a couple of steps to also go in the office—
Which at first glance looked totally trashed, as if the Hulk and Juggernaut had just gone head-to-head in there. That wasn't what really riveted Peter's attention, though.
It took just two seconds for him to recognize who exactly was in the office, limply collapse to the plaster-strewn floor, and while lying there curled up, arms wrapped around his torso, Spider-Man howled in uncontrolled hilarity.
In front of a newspaper publisher's desk, there stood on all four mismatched legs a very strange creature. It had a duck's bill, a purple fringe like a flower's petals around its head, a skinny neck connected to a body covered with green and red polka dots, and a flagpole-shaped tail rising straight up with a flag flying at the top showing a design of a screw and a ball there.
Still hysterically laughing, Peter knew two things. First, this creature was save for one certain difference the exact double of Daffy Duck in the surrealistic Warner Brothers cartoon 'Duck Amuck' when that quick-tempered avian got redrawn from his usual form into a bizarre beast by a mysterious Termite Terrace animator.
Second, on the upper front of the duckbill, there was a black toothbrush moustache just like the one worn by J. Jonah Jameson…
When their prone guest kept on guffawing, Robbie nervously watched how Jonah in his newest transformation began to glare evilly at Spider-Man holding his ribs. It'd already been a very bad day for the Daily Bugle's publisher when only an hour ago his moustache had somehow come to life and showed a separate mind of its own. One that didn't care at all for how much its host disliked a certain wall-crawler and wasn't shy at expressing its displeasure, either then or later on.
Boy, was there expressing later on.
And now, it clearly appeared Jonah was reaching his limits for today's idiocy. Better do something before his friend finally lost his temper and made matters even worse…if that was indeed possible, Robbie mused.
Going over to gently nudge Spider-Man's forearm with the toe of his shoe to get his attention, Robbie spoke into a pair of white eyes looking up at him. "Guess it's obvious you know the cartoon, but can you just put that aside for now? Jonah needs to say something to turn back to normal, and it's going to be hard enough for him to do it without you chortling right in his face. Please, tone it down and get up, will you?"
Spider-Man jerkily nodded his masked head and got back up onto his feet. He stood with his arms folded across his chest, facing Jonah who looked a bit less furious than before.
Taking a deep breath, the creature started off with, "Thpider-Man—"
That same costumed hero was back down on the floor again, laughing even harder this time. It seemed that besides Daffy Duck's unusual exterior, Jonah also presently possessed that cartoon character's famous lisp.
Robbie winced, expecting his friend to explode and ruin everything. Oddly enough, that didn't happen. Perhaps because even J. Jonah Jameson, master of the hair-trigger temper, could realize that unless he delivered here and now the actual apology of which Robbie and himself had labored over through trial and error, he might look like this forever.
Two minutes later:
"…and while I thtill have my thuspicionth about your motiveth, you've thaved tho many people from certain death that I have to admit you're a real hero. Becauthe of that, from now on, I won't print any more thtorieth accuthing you of being a menace to the city. I think that coverth everything."
At that point, Spider-Man was upright again, eyeing Jonah with total fascination. This was only natural, considering the publisher's unusual form was now mostly translucent, revealing a man's original body standing in the middle of a cartoon creature like he was wearing a hologram. Glancing down with growing relief, Jonah then said urgently, "Okay, okay, say you accept my apology! That's the only way I'll turn back to normal!"
Spider-Man thoughtfully scratched his clothed chin. "You mean, the longer I put it off, the longer you risk having whoever owns Warner Brothers hit you with one really big lawsuit for stealing their intellectual property?"
A strangled "Gnnnnggghhh" came from Jonah over hearing that smartass remark, with the man's moustached face also turning brick-red with wrath.
Robbie, who'd been listening to everything, now joined in the conversation. "Look, Spider-Man, Jonah didn't ask for this! Any of it! Whatever he might've deserved, he's paid for it, such as letting you see him looking like a—"
Jonah's basilisk stare sent Robbie's way abruptly cut off the editor-in-chief before saying something he'd regret later. Starting all over again, Robbie tried, "Now, will you please accept his apology so we can get back to work?"
Spider-Man took two steps forward to put him nearly nose-to-nose with Jonah, who didn't budge an inch, not wanting to give him any satisfaction of seeing Jonah cringe. Glowering at the blank visage presented to him, the publisher heard from that blasted big-mouthed bug, "After today, we're quits? You'll leave me alone? No weaseling out of it later?"
Jonah gritted, "I give you my word of honor."
"Okay," Spider-Man shrugged, "Your apology's accepted."
The translucent creature around Jameson instantly faded from existence, leaving him as human as ever. Jonah frantically patted himself to make sure, including scanning what parts of his body he could see to verify they were all back to normal. Dropping his hands with a sigh of relief, Jonah then heard from Spider-Man gleefully contributing, "Hey, fellas, let's be certain about it! JJJ, say 'Suffering Succotash!'"
That got Peter a decidedly cold look from Jonah, though this irked expression abruptly changed into shifty calculation. A slow, wicked smile then developed upon Jonah's visage, making Peter suddenly wary.
Turning away from someone he'd be more than happy to never see again, Jonah addressed his editor-in-chief now also a bit suspicious about this quick change of mood.
"Robbie, I've just decided that the Daily Bugle won't simply stop running nasty articles about…ah, what's his name? Never mind, we'll just never mention him at all. Pass the word around the whole newsroom; anybody who puts you-know-who in their stories, they're fired. No excuses."
"What?!" yelped Robbie. He pointed to a stunned Spider-Man. "How can we possibly do that? He won't stop being real news, going up against lawbreakers like the Rhino and the rest of them!"
Jonah brushed back his flat-top haircut with the palm of his hand before admitting, "Good point. Okay, if it's honestly factual, then put it in, oh, a single column inch should be quite enough at the very bottom of the edition's back page, next to the truss ads."
He was still grandly ignoring anyone else who might be in the office besides himself and Robbie, but Jonah's triumphant grin was now as toothy as could be seen on the inhabitants of an aquarium's shark tank during feeding time.
"That reminds me, since we're not going to run certain front-page photos any more, tell the Parker kid to go peddle his stuff somewhere else."
Swinging again through the Manhattan skyline, Spider-Man had done this often enough so that even in his present numb daze this superhero could avoid colliding face-first into a skyscraper. Thinking about it, Peter wasn't all that surprised how Jonah just stabbed him in the back, even if the Daily Bugle publisher had no idea of what he'd done to the young man inside an identity-concealing costume.
But now what? Regularly selling pictures of Spider-Man in action to that newspaper bought in badly-needed cash for Peter and his aged aunt. Oh, sure, he could try the other city papers and maybe even outside New York, but that'd take time and there was no guarantee any of them would accept his photos. The bills were certain to start piling up again.
Once more sunk in deep gloom, Peter fired another line from his right wristband web-shooter and prepared to arc through the air. It was at that exact point when a loud voice yelled from no more than an inch away directly into his left ear:
"HEY, WEB-HEAD!"
"Yeow!" Peter yelped in sudden fright, contorting to search everywhere at whoever'd just taken him by complete surprise. His spidey-sense hadn't gone off at all!
Fortunately, there was a handy roof right under him. Spider-Man let himself drop onto there, taking the twenty-foot plunge with ease. Landing in a crouch on the roof edge, the superhero put up his fists, ready to attack or defend himself from a….midget in a purple suit, bowtie, and bowler hat?
Floating in the air at head height, this little guy with an oversized head looked a little sheepish. He next said in a decided Brooklynese accent, "Sorry 'bout that, kiddo. Hope I didn't make ya wet yer Underoos."
This…was not what Peter had expected for today. He could be forgiven for immediately protesting at the top of his lungs, "They're not Underoos! And I didn't wet them!"
There was a short pause while the midget developed a wide smirk on his face. He came out with a snigger, "Yeah, right, and ya didn't just check 'em for that?"
Spider-Man put his fists on his hips. Time to get control of this already-dumb encounter. "Who the hell are you?"
"Call me. Mr. Mxyzptlk," cheerfully responded the midget, who got the boggled reaction from Peter he'd been expecting.
"Uh, what?!"
"'Miks-yez-pittle-ik," the midget patiently repeated. "It's spelled m-x-y-z-p-t-l-k, if ya gotta know."
Underneath his mask, Spider-Man rolled his eyes. "Did your parents lose a bet with somebody to load you up with that weird name?"
Pushing aggressively his bowler hat further forward his excessively large cranium, Mr. Mxyzptlk retorted, "Hey, at least I ain't got the same name of some English sailor captain during the Revolutionary war who lost his pants in one fight with the Americans! Betcha that got a big laugh in fifth-grade history class and a lotta teasing fer ya afterwards, Peter Parker!"
Peter felt his blood freeze solid. He gaped at Mr. Mxyzptlk looking well satisfied with himself.
Going on in this same pleased manner, the midget told somebody learning with growing horror his secret identity wasn't all that secret, "See, Pete, I'm new in town, but I still know lotsa stuff 'bout everybody here. You, Aunt May, Betty Brant, Flash Thompson, Jameson—"
"Shut up!" Peter frantically hissed, looking around in sudden fear that somebody else besides the two of them would hear that little jerk's motormouth. It didn't seem likely, not with the roof being completely devoid of other people…hey, wait a minute!
A red/black/white mask suspiciously examined Mr. Mxyzptlk smugly staring back. Peter accused, "It was you who messed with Jonah today, wasn't it?"
Mr. Mxyzptlk casually polished his fingernails on the front of his purple suit and admired them for a moment before tossing off, "One of my better pranks, wouldn't ya say?"
"So you really meant to finish off your practical joke with me losing my photographer job with the Daily Bugle?"
"Er…" trailed off Mr. Mxyzptlk, who now looked quite embarrassed. "I didn't plan for that! Look, lemme make it up for ya."
The little man stuck his hands in his suit pockets and glanced upwards at the sky, obviously lost in thought. Not more than a few seconds later, he brightened up as if struck by an inspiration from out of the blue.
"How would ya like to have a whole mountain of gold? Won't be any problem at all for me to change some hunk of rock from stone into 99.99% pure metal worth some serious bucks," offered Mr. Mxyzptlk.
Inside Spider-Man's mask, Peter's jaw dropped in shock. Right after, a dazed inquiry drifted out from the young man's mouth: "How big a mountain are we talking here— NO! No way! Don't you dare!"
Rather than being startled or peeved by this abrupt dismissal of his offer, Mr. Mxyzptlk just chuckled. "Good going, kiddo! You might've been tempted, but, hey, just 'bout anyone this side of Croesus would've, see? Then, ya figured there hadda be some really big drawbacks being the new owner of Mount Mazuma, so ya turned me down flat. Don't worry, I ain't gonna put ya through that. It would've been one big mountain, though."
"Oh," Peter said hollowly.
Mr. Mxyzptlk hummed under his breath while rocking back and forth on his little shoes, paying no attention at all to the several hundred feet of empty air below this strange person once more thinking to himself.
Peter nervously watched all this. Even for Spider-Man's usual interesting existence, today was becoming even more bizarre by the minute. He wasn't sure how it'd end without the universe showing again its eagerness to inflict a good, loud horselaugh onto Peter Parker.
"Okay, I got it!" happily declared Mr. Mxyzptlk.
Uh-oh, thought Peter. He nonchalantly began to sidle backwards along the roof edge, only to halt in his tracks when the midget did nothing more than a casual wave with one hand. A wave which finished off with the materialization of a scrap of paper in Mr. Mxyzptlk's hand, with that same paper then offered to Peter.
Hesitating, Spider-Man still couldn't get anything bad from his danger sense, so he accepted the scrap of paper since the superhero recognized it right away. Nonetheless, Peter brought up close to his face the unmarked scratch-off New York State lottery ticket to study it in puzzlement.
"Why'd you just give this to me?" After asking that, Peter sniffed in sudden incredulity to next hastily extend his arm to get the reeking lottery ticket further away from his nose.
"Also, how come it smells like used coffee grounds and a baby's filled diaper?"
Mr. Mxyzptlk looked proud. "That, kiddo, is an unclaimed winning ticket worth a cool quarter-million dollars! The reason it's unclaimed is because it got tossed in the trash by the buyer who never got around to checking to see if it was a winner. As for the smell, what'd you expect when it came straight here from the Fresh Kills landfill?"
At that moment, Peter was really glad his Spider-Man costume included a set of gloves. He rapidly set aside that happy fact to instead concentrate on what was really important here.
"Look, why're you doing all this? Playing pranks on Jonah, giving me money…can you blame me if I'm finding the whole thing kinda suspicious?"
Mr. Mxyzptlk didn't seem to be too offended by this expressed note of caution coming from the Marvel Universe character. He merely leaned forward to catch the young man's gaze before saying gently, "I said before I knew a bunch of stuff 'bout ya. Stuff that nobody else knows. Like Uncle Ben. And 'with great power comes great responsibility'. And what you went through in Doctor Octopus' underwater lab when trapped there."
Straightening up, Mr. Mxyzptlk studied the motionless crime-fighter. He went on in the same caring tone, "Peter, you deserve this. Take the money. Use it to have a breathing space in your life when you're not worrying about paying the bills or buying what you need."
Spider-Man continued to stand immobile there, though Mr. Mxyzptlk seemed to be satisfied his words were having their proper effect. Perking up from all the seriousness of the last minute or so, the midget declared, "Okay, I gotta scram now. Maybe I'll see ya again soon, but before that, there's one thing I wanna do."
With those last words, Mr. Mxyzptlk stuck out his hand.
Peter unthinkingly reached out with his own hand. Except, in the next instant after clasping his fingers around a much smaller hand, an overpowering vibration rattled through Spider-Man's hand and arm.
Yelping in surprise, the wall-crawler leapt back a good couple of yards, shaking his now-tingling fingers. He next clenched those fingers in a fist to angrily shake it at where Mr. Mxyzptlk was uproariously whooping in glee.
Opening his shaken hand to reveal a small device resting in the midget's palm, Mr. Mxyzptlk beamed down at his latest successful prank. "Ah, the old joy-buzzer gag. Can't beat the classics!"
"YOU LITTLE CREEP!" yelled Spider-Man. That reaction in turn brought him a wicked grin from Mr. Mxyzptlk, who waggled a chiding forefinger.
"You really expected me not to pull that? Nuh-huh, buster! See ya in the funny papers!"
With those last words, Mr. Mxyzptlk disappeared in a burst of purple smoke.
Shielded by his magic powers gained from last month's Halloween chaos which resulted in him being exiled by the Powers That Be into the Marvel Universe, Xander Harris stayed invisible to savor how Spider-Man then said some very naughty things about insane diminutive pranksters before jumping off the roof to swing away in a definite huff.
Prior to this departure, however, Peter Parker carefully put away the smelly lottery ticket in a costume pocket. Apparently, despite what had been jokingly mentioned in the comics, he'd actually made a superhero outfit with the ability to store things in it.
Well, that was a lot of fun, Xander reflected to himself. It turned out pretty well, using the supernatural glamour to look like the old-style Mr. Mxyzptlk instead of his normal Xanderness.
He'd done it for two reasons. One, simply as a respected homage to the impish DC character who really knew how to have a good time while not taking anything seriously.
The main reason, though, was to create in advance an essential alibi in that there solely existed a new magical mischief-maker with a bowler hat hanging around and not an ordinary-looking guy out to gleefully cause the maximum amount of amusing anarchy among the heroes and villains worldwide.
Looking around at the busy New York City scene, Xander thought about who next to make their life as upsetting as possible. He'd been meaning to set down a list but never actually gotten around to it. What'd been after 'Meet Spider-Man'?
Oh, right. Time now for Operation Stop Tony Stark From Being Such An Alcoholic Dick. Got to come up with a spiffier name for that…