Spider-Man/Muppets Fanfic: The Spectacular

[The Count]

Huh? Nothing about Butch and Clyde tending to Zongo, along with the inference that as far as Mr. Singer's concerned, the events of Old Friends never happened? That's got a glum Gonzo trudging off back to the Happiness Hotel. But I'm sure Sean has his reasons and will show them in the next chapter.

 

[muppetwriter]

Oh that was AWESOME! I loved seeing Shego, and the "Arlas" (love the nickname for them), and Nicky! Funny bit with his socks. Great scene at the hospital too, verry cool. Great job!

Thanks, P.C.

Huh? Nothing about Butch and Clyde tending to Zongo, along with the inference that as far as Mr. Singer's concerned, the events of Old Friends never happened? That's got a glum Gonzo trudging off back to the Happiness Hotel. But I'm sure Sean has his reasons and will show them in the next chapter.

I will, Count. Have no fear. It might take a while to get another chapter in, seeing as how I'm trying to get a few chapters in for the first story of my other fanfic series right now, "Legends of Disney," which is being based on the events of all three Pirates of the Caribbean films. The Muppets have parts in the story as well, making references to events in Muppet Treasure Island. I'll post them up sometime soon, too.

 

[muppetwriter]

I'm back with another fun chapter.

Chapter Four​

After visiting his sister’s place during the middle of the night and snatching some suitable clothing for himself, Shego, and the “Arla’s” (as well as his old Pontiac Firebird, which was still in mint condition), Holiday and his “comrades” drove their way to Downtown Manhattan to a site that was all too familiar to five of them. They were going to the Mallory Gallery, where Holiday claimed had thousands of dollars in cash hidden somewhere by an “old friend.” The area had brought too many bad memories for Flint Marko, due to the fact that it was where he his bad luck streak had began, and it brought too many strange ones for Holiday and his girls, mostly from their attack by groups of Muppets and teen heroines.

Their trip was smooth sailing until they heard the sound of police sirens in the distance, which had soon blared near their location. They instantly knew what it meant, and Holiday pushed down hard on the gas pedal, accelerating down the road and completely missing the turn that would’ve led them straight to the Mallory Gallery.

“Where are we going to go now?” Shego asked.

“I don’t know!” Holiday retorted. “All I care about now is getting these guys off our tails!”

“If that’s even possible!” Shego remarked, and Holiday glared at her for a brief moment, before he looked back at the road and made a hard left turn down a road that brought them to the Brooklyn Bridge. Several vehicles pulled to the side, as the Firebird and the twenty police cars chasing after it passed through the bridge.

The chase lasted for almost three hours and brought all the vehicles outside the city and into the countryside. When they came near a marshland that neither of them saw coming, the Firebird was accidentally driven into some water, resulting in the engine of Holiday’s car being severely flooded. There they all were, inside of the unmoving Firebird, with the twenty squad cars in the distance, blue and red lights flashing all around. Each of them were disgruntled over how horrible the situation was becoming—Holiday was most of all, especially once he stepped out of the vehicle and ended up soaking everything from his knees down to his toes in swamp water.

“Oh, God!” He exclaimed. “These are my best socks!” Shego just stared at him oddly and wanted to say something sarcastic, as she, the “Arla’s”, and Marko stepped out as well, bringing them all knee-deep in swamp water. But she was robbed of the opportunity, just as soon as they all heard the sound of police dogs barking (which overwhelmed the sound of the sirens).

“Holiday! Forget about ruining the paint job on your socks!” Shego demanded. “Let’s just try to get our butts out of sight, long enough for the cops to lose our trails!”

“Splitting up would be a good idea.” Marko suggested. “Everyone just go one way and find a nice shadowy place to hide in.” Holiday didn’t take the way Marko was giving orders too well, because he was always the one who went around giving them out.

“Now listen here!”

“Listen somewhere else! Just get out of dodge! NOW!” Shego yelled, and once they all heard how close the barking was getting, they dashed away from the nonfunctional Firebird and across the marshlands. It was extremely difficult for each of them to get across with half of their legs so deep in the waters. But as soon as they had reached grassy areas that were dryer and easier to run across, the chase had suddenly picked up pace, as several police officers blew whistles and shouted for the six escaped convicts to freeze, which they had obviously denied.

Marko, Marla, and Carla thought they were heading in opposite directions, but they were in fact heading in the same one, running right into the same chain link fence with a sign hung in the center of it that read, “Danger: Particle Physics Test Facility—Keep Out!” Neither of them had paid in mind to the sign, because their focus was too heavily spent on the police dog that had leaped towards them.

“Look out!” Marko shouted, just as he had caught the dog and wrestled fiercely with him, until he punched him square in his face and forced him to retreat, whimpering back to his owner.

“I’d like to see someone do that in front of those PETA idiots.” Marla uttered, right before the three of them crawled up the fence and jumped over it, just in time to avoid more attack dogs and police officers that had run right into it.

“One group takes the west side! The other takes the east! Let’s go!” An officer ordered, and they all had split up themselves, while Marko and the two “Arla’s” ran down a vast grassy field. They all ran into three separate directions (Marla taking the left, Carla taking the right, and Marko heading in the center). As Marko headed straight ahead, he failed to notice the enormous hole that was made in the ground.

Marko tumbled across a concrete hill for a moment and then landed headfirst into a huge mound of sand. Outside the hole, Marla and Carla looked behind themselves to see if Marko was still following them, and once they realized that he was out of sight, they were slightly bedazzled. But before they could’ve asked each other where he might’ve vanished off to, both of them had fallen into two more gigantic holes. The one Marla had fallen into was flooded with rainwater, while the other that Carla fell into was halfway completed with loose cables lying everywhere (some of which were so worn-out that wires were sticking out of a few). All three of them were bewildered over the places that they had found themselves in, and the fact that it was pitch black didn’t help much. However, bright lights shined directly in the center of each hole, only confusing the three convicts even more.

Meanwhile, somewhere near the area was a testing facility that was formerly owned by Quest Aerospace but recently bought out by Bitterman Bank and Development to be used as one of the many departments for their new science firm. It was headed by a typical mad scientist named Professor Max Krassman, who was formerly in the business of working on mind control over frogs. His current profession was in the study of atoms and molecules, conducting a few experiments that were being financed by Rachel Bitterman, who joined him in the facility that evening as they were beginning their newest experiment.

“The machine’s now charged, Professor.” A scientist had informed him, as Rachel sat nearby and watched Krassman monitor over his assistants.

“Very good.” He remarked through his thick German accent.

“We’ve got some fluxing going on all three.” Another informed, worrying Rachel a little.

“Fluxing? What does that mean?”

“There’s a change in the silicon mass.” A scientist explained to her, and yet she was still left scratching her head in confusion. Krassman could see how bewildered she appeared to be and decided to explain things for her in a simpler, nonscientific way.

“It’s probably just a bird dat’ll fly away once ve begin, Fraulein Hitterman.”

“Bitterman!” Rachel snapped.

“My apologizes, of course.” Krassman said. “Ve’ve only been introduced for nine minutes. Another nine, and I’ll be asking for your phone number.” He was left chuckling over his own joke after he made it, while Rachel just stared at him seriously, which was the only mood she had been in over the past few months. The professor forced himself to stop laughing long enough to continue on with the experiment. “Sorry, Fraulein. Everyone knows how much I detest the surfeit of provincial laughter.”

“Let’s just get on with this, Professor.” Rachel ordered. “I’m a very busy woman and I haven’t got all day.”

“Vill it cost me my voice?” Krassman joked, and he laughed momentarily, until he noticed the strange look Rachel was making, which signified that she did not get his joke. “Sorry again. I’d accidentally fallen asleep vhile vatching ‘De Little Mermaid’ last night.”

Before wasting anymore of Rachel’s time, Krassman gestured for his assistants to begin the experiment, which started with them flipping switches and pressing buttons. Loud humming noises were soon starting up outside the complex, shaking the walls a little and even rattling Rachel some. Krassman gave off a wicked smile, as he carefully eyeballed the monitors to check the readings on the particle accelerators that Marko, Marla, and Carla were standing in.

Outside in the testing area, the three convicts looked upward in shock and confusion, as whisk-like machines lowered and twirled around each of them. Grains of sand were picked up and circled around Marko, even shrouding him in large clouds, while Marla seemed halfway dried and halfway soaked, as the water that was being picked up by the machine splashed her. The story in Carla’s particle accelerator was different, as several sparks flashed around her in the malfunctioning machine.

Soon Holiday, Shego, and Darla had made it into the field, and they spotted their comrades inside the particle accelerators, seeing how hopelessly trapped each of them were. Holiday attempted to step inside the one that Carla was being contained in, but Shego stopped him, once she realized how rapidly the machine was whisking around them.

“You’ll be rip to shreds once you’re within an inch from them!” She warned Holiday, and with no other alternative, they just watched as the machines whisked around their companions, until something bizarre began to happen.

Inside Marko’s particle accelerator, his hands were starting to vaporize along with the rest of his body. Shego, Carla, and Holiday watched in shock, as the body of Flint Marko began nothing more than more grains of an ashy substance for the machine to pick up.

“Good God!” Holiday exclaimed, just as their attention went to the accelerators that Marla and Darla were trapped in, where there was nothing more left than splashes of water and flashes of fiery sparks.

“What the heck has happened to them?” Shego screamed in horror, and before her question could’ve been answered by anyone, they heard some familiar barking in the distance and escaped from the area. While they were running, Holiday spotted the complex and gestured for Shego and Carla to follow him towards there. Just as they were all out of sight, the police had arrived near the particle accelerators, while the machines were slowing down and raising back up, leaving a mound of sand, a puddle of water, and a flowing electrical energy sitting inside each of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

After a night of watching a great performance on stage and another in the starry sky, being attacked by the vengeful son of an old enemy, and debating with his sister over the secret identity of Spider-Man, Sean felt like he deserved a good, long day of rest in his warm, cozy bed back in the Happiness Hotel. He barely could keep his eyes open and stay focused as he was brought back in his sister’s Porsche, yawning every few seconds. As soon as they had arrived at the Hotel, Sean immediately stepped out of the Porsche and walked into their abode, stumbling through each step he took.

“You okay, bro?” Lori asked him, as she followed him inside with Kermit and Fozzie.

“I’ll get back to you on that, as soon as I had at least twenty-four hours of rest.” Sean replied, and as he passed by the kitchen, he barely even noticed a blue, blob-like figure sitting at the table. And after journeying up the stairs to the tenth floor (where his room was located), he was way too exhausted to realize that a ten-foot-tall character with old-school styled basketball sneakers the squeaked like they were on a basketball court, a seven-foot-tall one with purple fur and horns, and even a bird, plane-like character passing by him down the hall.

When he finally made it to the door to his room, he slowly turned the knob and entered, not once realizing how much of a mess his room had become. He tripped over a few articles of clothing, some that weren’t exactly his own (most particularly a green sweater), but was able to maintain his balance. And just as he neared his bed, he didn’t even bother to take off the clothes he had been wearing and just flopped down on the bed.

Unfortunately, Sean had forgotten what the Murphy beds in the Happiness Hotel had often done whenever someone would drop down on it hard. It would snap back into the wall and leave whoever might’ve been lying on it to be trapped between it and the wall itself. Realizing how that was exactly what occurred after flopping down on it, Sean attempted to push against the wall and bring the bed back down. While he was doing so, someone who had been lying down next to him was screaming so loud in a panicky tone that she could be heard past the vertical positioned mattress.

“Who’s that?” Sean asked in surprise. “Who is that?”

“Frankie Foster…o-of Foster’s Home For Imaginary Friends!” A young, feminine voice worriedly responded. “Who’s this? What the heck happened?” He didn’t know why exactly a strange girl was resting in his bed at that time, but he did know that it was crucial that they got themselves out of the Murphy bed before they would be trapped there forever.

“Just a minor setback, Frankie. Gimme a sec.” Sean said, and he then performed a trick that Kermit had taught him years ago, when he was first living in the Hotel. He placed his hands against the wall and feet against the mattress. And feeling as if he was executing a sit-up, he put some extreme pressure on the two sides, pushing with great force until the Murphy bed returned back to its horizontal position. After it had, Sean got a good luck at the redheaded girl lying next to him in his bed: she had been sleeping with her clothes still on (a Powerpuff Girls t-shirt and a purple mini skirt) and had a bit of a punk rocker look.

To say that Sean Thomas was confused would be an understatement. He was totally bedazzled over someone who he had no recollection of ever meeting before in his busy life sleeping in his bed. But then he recalled the other things that he caught at the corner of his sleepy eye as he was heading upstairs, such as the ten-foot tall character with the basketball sneakers and the blue, blob-like figure in the kitchen.

“I would say it’s nice to meet you, Miss Frances,” Sean stated in a slightly uncomfortable way, “But you just caught me by surprise here. I didn’t really expect to find a visitor in my room, especially after having a rough night at the hospital.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Frankie uttered in concern. “Were you hurt?”

“No, I was just…” Before Sean could’ve gone on explaining himself, he realized that he was still lying down with a stranger in his own bed. He quickly got up and dashed out of the room, leaving behind a confused Frankie, who got up herself and put back on her shoes and sweater.

Sean ran down the hallway of the tenth floor and just as about to plant his left foot down on the first step leading downstairs, until at the last moment he spotted a small, green, one-eyed stick that was sitting down on that first step. In an attempt to avoid stepping or even kicking the stick (which appeared to be alive and aware of the fact that he was about to be stepped on), Sean allowed himself to tumble down the flight of stairs. He thudded over each and every step from the tenth floor down, until he finally stumbled into the first floor, where he laid across the floor with great pain coursing through his body.

Sean was in so much pain that he could barely keep his eyes focused on the six blurry figures that were standing over him and looking down at him, each asking if he was all right. When he was able to regain his focus, he looked around at the faces staring directly at him, three of which he was able to recognize and others that were completely new to him. Out of the six figures, Sean was able to make out Kermit, Gonzo, and Fozzie, while a red character with large stitches (or scars) on his head and eyes on stalks protruding from his head (one of which was no longer working), a purple-furred, fanged creature that resembled a minotaur, and the bird, plane-like thing that he spotted before were ones that he never seen before. And soon another unfamiliar face appeared—that of a small, blue, ghostlike figure that was shaped like a thumb, smiling at him awkwardly.

“That was so awesome!” He exclaimed. “Do it again! Do it again!” That’s when a somewhat human yellow character whose head was very large in proportion to his body, left foot appearing backwards when standing in place, and having two left hands and a slightly hunched back had popped near the small, blue, thumb-shaped ghost and repeatedly shouted what he had just said (only missing one word).

“Do again! Do again! Do again! Do again! Do again!” The yellow character shouted, causing not only Sean, but also the others around him to be driven crazy by the rapid shouting.

“What is this meaning of all this nonsense?” Someone had asked with an English accent in a personification of the Edwardian era. Within moments, another unrecognizable face had shown up: a dignified-looking, mustached rabbit wearing a top hat, a monocle, a vest, and a bowtie. He was hopping his way towards Sean and the others, along with a small, elderly woman wearing large glasses who closely resembled Frankie Foster, a nine-year-old boy with long, brown hair that slightly draped over his eyes and wearing a backpack, and a hyperactive girl with three braids in her hair and wearing a rainbow shirt and yellow boots that she stomped around in.

Sean could not believe how many new unusual, unrecognizable, and very strange faces that were overshadowing those that he was most familiar with in the Happiness Hotel. He painfully got to his feet, with a little help from the purple-furred Minotaur and the tall, red character, and stared at everyone around him in the Hotel’s lobby area. His eyes went from one smiling face to another and were directed to the living room, where Lori was cleaning up whatever so could for some reason. It was rather awkward to Sean that she would not seem too affected by the extra bizarre characters that were roaming throughout the Happiness Hotel with the Muppets.

“Are you okay, Sean?” Kermit asked him, and he looked down at the frog, while rubbing the back of his head and feeling the bruise that had been left behind as a result of the nasty fall he had taken down the stairs.

“Who are all these people…these things?” Sean asked, and none of the bizarre-looking visitors took too kindly of the way he referred to them as “things.” “What’re they doing here?” While he was asking his questions, he spotted one face that’d become familiar within just a few minutes, heading down the stairs and joining in on the conversation.

“They’re old friends of mine.” Gonzo answered, and Sean glanced at him with a look that said, “That explains it.” “I thought it’d be great if they were to stay here over the night, since it is such a long way up to Westchester, where their mansion is located.”

“Well, not that I have anything against their rights for being here—this is a hotel after all—but I hope their stay isn’t for very long, because we’re crowded as it is.” Sean said, looking over at Frankie as he did, and she looked back at him with a sheepish smile on her face.

“I heartily agree with you, kind sir.” The English-accented rabbit remarked. “I do believe that our stay here in this dreary hotel has been overdue. It’s time we all returned to our home at Foster’s with the utmost pace.” The rabbit then turned to Frankie and addressed her. “Miss Frances, go and get the bus started. Please.”

“If you hadn’t said that last word, Mr. H, I would’ve been madder than a certain hatter.” Frankie said, and although the dignified rabbit had no idea what she meant by that, he didn’t bother asking as she made her way out of the Happiness Hotel.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sean?” Fozzie asked with concern.

“Positive, Foz.” Sean replied. “Someone just remember to pick up the stick that was sitting at the head of the stairs in the tenth floor before someone else trips it.”

“I ain’t no stick!” Someone with a deep voice uttered, and Sean looked towards the stairs to see the small, green, one-eyed stick again, glaring and pointing at him. “I’m an imaginary friend, just like the rest of these yahoos in here!”

“He didn’t mean anything by it, Jackie.” The tall, red imaginary friend kindly stated. “He just isn’t that familiar with what we are.” The friend then focused back on Sean, who he introduced himself and the other friends to. “My name’s Wilt, the rabbit friend you had seen last is named Mr. Herriman, the purple guy standing next to me is Eduardo, the one next to him—the bird, plane-looking thing—that’s Coco.”

“Coco! Coco!” The strange bird exclaimed, which was all that she could’ve said out loud.

“The elderly woman standing next to Mr. Herriman is Madame Foster, the founder of Foster’s and grandmother to Frankie Foster—she’s the girl who just walked out.” Wilt continued while pointing to those that he was introducing. “The girl standing next to Mac—he’s the boy with the backpack—is Goo.”

“Hi, nice to meet ya. I hope you didn’t hurt yourself too much while falling down those stairs. I remembered a time when I fell down the stairs. It hurt a lot. And I was crying for days, even though it wasn’t that big of a deal. But then it got better once my mom put some alcohol on it. It still hurts a little to this day. I even got a scar left from it. You wanna see?” Goo was talking so fast that Sean could barely keep up with what she was saying and didn’t even bother trying. He was about to say something to her, until the small, blue, thumb-shaped ghost appeared in front of him, still smiling awkwardly.

“Hi. There’s no need for an introduction for me.” He told Sean, with a confident tone in his voice. “Everyone by now should know the great Blooregard Q. Kazoo…Bloo for short.” Sean just gazed strangely at the imaginary friend whose name wouldn’t have been difficult for him to remember.

“Please to meet you…Bloo.” Sean said and extended his hand out to him, even though he wasn’t quite certain how something (or someone) with no hands or feet would be able to shake his hand. However, a small arm emerged from the right side of Bloo and took Sean’s large hand, shaking it. Soon after the two were acquainted, the yellow, humanlike imaginary friend came in between them, gazing at Sean with his bizarre red eyes.

“My name’s Cheese. I like chocolate milk.” He said, and Sean didn’t quite know how to respond to such a bizarre figure at first, but then decided to just react the same way he had with the other friends.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cheese.” Sean just stared at Cheese for a short moment, and after feeling as if he had been familiarized with everyone from Foster’s, he focused his attention back to the living room, which Lori was coming out of and heading into the kitchen area to organize some more things. “Will you all excuse me for a sec?” Sean moved away from the large crowd and into the kitchen to greet Lori, who turned to him for a moment with a concerned look on her face.

“Everything okay, bro?” She asked. “I saw how you fell down those stairs.”

“I’m good. Thanks for asking.” Sean replied. “But I should be asking if you’re okay.” She just stared at him strangely for a moment, before returning to her activity of cleaning up the kitchen.

“Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re going around trying to clean up stuff that would take a millennium to get done.” Lori smiled at her brother, as she took an empty bowl that Bloo had been eating from and brought it to the sink, which was cluttered with other dirty dishes—some that hadn’t been washed for nearly a year. Staring at that sink brought her back down to earth and convinced her to do something that the Happiness Hotel could near do…come clean.

“Alright. Here’s how it is…” But before she could’ve had a moment to explain herself, both the phone at the front desk and the doorbell rang simultaneously, and Pops and the bellhop rats were nowhere around to answer either one.

“You can get the phone. I’ll get the door.” Sean suggested, and Lori nodded in agreement, right before the two siblings dashed out of the kitchen, heading through the large crowd that was still gathered in the lobby to answer the phone and the door at the same time.

Opening the front door to the Happiness Hotel, yet another unfamiliar face was revealed to Sean, one of a Caucasian male in his late-thirties with a height around five foot, nine inches and hair that was chocolate brown. It was difficult for Sean to determine what color the man’s eyes were, seeing as how they were being heavily shaded and obscured by a pair of dark sunglasses. At a first glance, Sean presumed that he wore them on account of it being a bright, sunny day outside. But once he got a good look at the white walking cane with a leather grip that folded in on itself (and had a black bat-topper above the grip), it quickly dawned upon him that the man was blind.

“May I help you?” Sean asked him, and the visitor smiled as soon as he heard his voice.

“I was hoping to be greeted by someone more feminine, but I’m pretty sure you’ll do…uh, whoever you are.” The man said, and he chuckled while Sean looked up and down at him suspiciously. It wasn’t long before another man, one that was much younger (seemingly in his mid-twenties), approached the doorstep and stood next to the blind man with a heavy load of luggage.

“Hey, man. Where do ya want all of this?” The young man asked.

“Well, I don’t rightly know. I’m not too familiar with this hotel.” The blind man replied. “Perhaps the gentleman standing in front of me could let you know of where to set them.” The young man looked towards Sean with an exhausted look on his face that was understandable, seeing as how he was carrying at least five large suitcases. Looking past both of them, Sean discovered that they had both arrived in a taxicab and that the young man must’ve been the blind one’s driver and helper.

“You can set them near the front desk.” Sean gestured, and the young man acknowledged by walking over to the front desk, where Lori was still talking over the phone, and set the suitcases down in front of it. Just as soon after he had, the yellow imaginary friend known as Cheese walked up to the young man, who was taken by surprise as he noticed him.

“My name’s Cheese.” The young man looked around to see whom the imaginary friend might’ve been addressing (he couldn’t quite tell, due to the opposite directions that Cheese’s eyes were pointing in). He could only assume that he was being addressed.

“Uh…my name’s Ryan.” He replied, and Cheese just stood there for a long moment, staring strangely at the taxi driver known as Ryan, who started to feel very uncomfortable near the friend. “O…kay. Nice meetin’ ya.”

“I have tapeworm.” And with that being said by the strange character, Ryan immediately walked away from him and headed out the front door.

“What a bunch of weirdoes.” He murmured, while passing by the blind man and a bewildered Sean.

“Sir, I’m not the one to question guests, but considering the fact that we’re currently overloaded with at least forty more in this hotel, I have to ask one important question…who are you?” Sean asked, and the blind man was about to respond, until Lori appeared and interfered in his opportunity.

“Sean, it’s Dr. Connors again.” She said, handing over the old rotary dial telephone to her brother, not once noticing the blind man in front of him. “He wants to talk to about…” But as soon as Lori did see the blind man standing in the doorway, she immediately stopped talking to her brother and screamed joyfully to him. “ED!”

“Careful, Alissa. You might turn me into Helen Keller.” The blind man joked, as Lori jumped onto him and gave a warm hug. Sean stared at his sister’s friend, remembering the stories that were told to him of a blind biochemist from a European country that went by the name of Dr. Edward Morbius. The man who had come to the Happiness Hotel that day must’ve been Morbius himself. “I believe I had the great pleasure in meeting your brother.” Lori turned to Sean, whom had the receiver of the rotary phone held near the left side of his head as he stared at the two good friends.

“Oh, yeah.” She said with a smile. “You’ll get use to him very soon.” They both chuckled heartily, while Sean (slightly offended by his sister’s joking remark) placed the receiver to his left ear and spoke into it.

“Yeah. You still there, Curt?”

“Yes! How are you, Sean?”

“Look up the word ‘exhausted’ in the dictionary, and you’ll find a picture of me right next to it.” Sean could hear Connors laughing on the other end, and though it sounded like a joke, Sean was actually being dead serious.

“I guess it would be a bad time to tell you about a marvelous discovery that I’ve come across just a few minutes ago.”

“Believe me, Curt. If I weren’t so tired, I would be at the university in a heartbeat to see what you’ve discovered.” Sean honestly said. “But I just got back from a long night at the hospital, and I’m seconds away from passing out.”

“Hospital?” Connors said with concern. “Were you hurt?”

“No, it was just…” Sean quickly stopped himself, as soon as he realized that he was about to get into one big story that could’ve been told at another time and place. “I’ll explain it tomorrow afternoon at the university, Curt. Until then, you have a good evening.”

“You, too.” And just as soon after Sean had hung up the phone, it rang once again, much to his displeasure, and he answered it with a great deal of anger and frustration.

“WHAT?” There was so much loudness in his angry voice that it silenced the entire first floor of the hotel, as everyone halted abruptly in their conversations and stared over at him.

“Thomas? Is that you?” When Sean realized that the voice on the other end belonged to his old and current boss, J. Jonah Jameson, he quickly took the bass out of his and spoke to him in a friendlier tone.

“Mr. Jameson, I’m sorry. I’ve just been…”

“Never mind!” Jameson snapped, sounding as equally upset as Sean did. “I need you and your sister to get your tails over here immediately. A lot of crap is going on, and I need my two best reporters to back me up on it all.” Sean took the thumb and index finger of his left hand and rubbed his tired eyes with them. He was not in the mood to go anywhere at that moment in time, but felt like he might as well, since he had his clothes already on and his job would be on the line if he had rejected.

“We’ll be right there, J.J.” Sean once again hung up the phone and walked right over to his sister and Edward, who were still staring at him along with everyone else in the house. “We’ve been summoned by His Royal Pain to back him up on some ‘crap’ that’s happening at The Bugle.”

“Hey, that’s great!” Lori exclaimed, and Sean was a little surprised over her enthusiasm of going to the Daily Bugle headquarters, which she rarely expressed in such a case. “Edward can come with us and get a tour of the place.”

“But he’s…” Sean stopped just as he realized what he was about to say would come out the wrong way. However, Edward knew exactly what he was going to say and didn’t hesitate to point it out.

“Blind? Not completely, Sean.” Edward remarked, while Lori was glaring at her brother for acting so stubborn around her old friend. “I still have some peripheral sight left.”

Sean chuckled over that sentiment. “I wouldn’t have let Ryan know about that, while he was carrying your luggage.” There was a good deal of sarcasm in his voice as he said that, and it was enough to offend his sister on Edward’s behalf. She expressed her anger by taking out the keys to her Porsche from her left jeans pocket and tossing them to Sean, without first giving him notice. He was barely able to catch them, as soon as he noticed them coming.

“You drive.” Lori said with a snooty tone. “And while I’m helping Ed to the car, you keep in mind that we need to pick up Stanley on the way over to the D.B. headquarters.” Sean watched the two as they were walking past the front entrance to the hotel, which was soon entered by a dirtied, exhausted, and flustered Frankie, who walked by Sean and approached Mr. Herriman and the rest of the friends from Foster’s.

“Uh…we might be staying here longer than expected, ‘cause the car battery just died out on us.” Frankie informed, and some of the friends moaned in exasperation, while others seemed more enthusiastic. Kermit and Fozzie shared some of the exasperation with the friends that were, and Gonzo wanted to jump with joy, but didn’t want to do so after seeing how upset Kermit and Fozzie appeared to be. Meanwhile, Sean had left the hotel with the news in mind, feeling neither exasperated nor overjoyed, but rather just insomniac.

END OF CHAPTER FOUR​

 

[The Count]

WOOT! Sorry it took me so long to reply Sean. Such a great chapter, been reading this and watching the 3-hour WWE draft.
Oh how I like your introductory descripts... Watching the escaped convicts be changed into their super-powered versions... Liked Professor Krassman's jokes, guess I'm in a bit of a mermaid mood what with the Disney Villains cake competition last night on Food Network and Ariel herself, one of my fave characters showing up in Legends. Loved it all, from the Fosters gang to the bit at the Happiness Hotel with the Thomas siblings.

Keep your eyes peeled, as I might be making an appearance in another fanfic, namely trying to find my girl in Vegas while Kermit's Girl is the main tabloid attraction.
Thanks for the update, it's been a long-time a-comin' and well worth the wait.

 

[theprawncracker]

*bounces!* Oh I LOVE it, Sean! It's fantastic! Krassman was lovely! And Fosters and Happiness HOtel and... WOOT! Please post more soon!

 

[muppetwriter]

P.C., I think you'll really love this chapter.

Chapter Five​

As dawn had approached and the testing of the new particle accelerators was finalized, Professor Krassman and Rachel Bitterman had left the control room inside the facility, while all of Krassman’s assistants remained behind to take notes of their results. Krassman and Bitterman seemed very satisfied that their tests came out so positively. They were so much satisfied that they decided to have lunch with each other (as long as Krassman was the one paying the bill). However, while the two were journeying down one of the halls in the complex, neither of them had realized that Shego, Darla, and Nicky Holiday, who all were wearing lab coats to disguise themselves, were following them.

“I’m still curious to know what one of your assistants meant by the ‘fluxing’ that was accruing during the tests.” Rachel said. “I don’t want to have any mistakes here, Dr. K. I’m investing a lot of money into this equipment of yours, and I don’t want it all flushed down the toilet by some error caused by a stupid bird!”

“You have not a thing—NOT A THING—to vorry about, Miss Hitlerman.” Krassman remarked, and Rachel rolled her eyes again over the careless way he addressed her.

“For the millionth time, the name’s Bitterman!” Rachel screamed, just before the both of them heard a loud gunshot that nearly made them jump out of their skins, as they turned to see Holiday aiming his gun towards the ceiling, with bits of debris falling down on his head, while Shego and Darla stood by him.

“It’s about to become ‘mud’ in two seconds, if you don’t tell us what you’ve done to our friends!” Holiday threatened, and while Krassman seemed a little puzzled by Holiday’s surprising appearance, Rachel was very agitated, rolling her eyes as she approached Holiday.

“Oh, God! Quentin, what in God’s name do you think you’re doing?” She asked Holiday, who just looked at Rachel awkwardly and had then done the same to Shego and Darla, who also shared his confusion. “Didn’t I make it clear over the phone that it’s over between you and me? If you think that little B.B. gun in your hands is gonna scare me into coming back to you, you’re gravely mistaken, because I…”

“SHUT UP, TRAMP!” Holiday fiercely snapped, and his tone was enough to startle even Rachel, as it suddenly dawned upon her that the man standing in front of her wasn’t the same one that she’d been seeing for a couple of years. “I don’t know who you think I am, but my name isn’t Quentin! It’s Holiday…Nicky Holiday!” Hearing that name was what helped Krassman realize who Nicky was.

“De jewel robber?” Krassman exclaimed, and Shego was taken aback over how familiar he was of the dismal convict.

“You know him?”

“Of course!” Krassman said, slowly approaching Holiday, who directed the aim of his pistol away from Rachel and at him instead. “I served enough years at Riker’s Island ta hear about dis guy who robbed his own sister and framed it on a pig, in order ta go after her prized baseball diamond.”

“And I would’ve gotten away with it, too! If it weren’t for that Kermit the Frog and his meddlin’ Muppet friends!” Holiday angrily shouted, tightening his grip on the gun. “Not to mention that redheaded girl and the kid with the naked mole rat in his pocket.” As she heard about the last two people involved in the incident, Shego couldn’t help but to think a certain crime-fighting cheerleader and her lame boyfriend/sidekick.

“Perhaps you and us aren’t so dissimilar, Mr. Holiday.” Krassman remarked. “Miss Kidderman…”

“Bitterman!”

“…And I have a history vith dat same frog.” Krassman continued. “I once tried ta turn his brain into guacamole, vhile she attempted ta shut down his Muppet Theatre and replace it vith a swingin’ nightclub—not a bad idea, I mind you.” Nicky gazed back and forth between the two characters and could actually see that they might’ve been victims of the Muppets’ chaos, if such an odd pair like them was working together.

“What’re you suggesting, pal? Forming some type of team-up?” Holiday inquired, not sounding too interested in the idea. “Well, you can just forget it! ‘Cause just a few moments ago, you two vaporized three associates of ours with those crazy machines of yours out there!”

Though the thought would sound horrible to a soulful person, it came as a huge interest for Krassman and Bitterman, seeing as how they were successful in building a deadly weapon. But they were soon brought out of their delight, once they realized that a vengeful plot was currently taking place, as Holiday still had them at gunpoint.

“I assure you, Mr. Holiday, that we had no idea there was anyone in the vicinity at the time of our experiment.” Rachel nervously said. “Well…at least I hadn’t. Professor Krassman here was informed of some ‘fluxing’ that occurred in the midst of it all, but decided to continue on.” Krassman looked surprisingly at her, just as soon as she had mentioned that. He was about to retaliate, until one of his assistants dashed out of the control room and into the hall, seeming as if he was reacting to the gunshots.

“Professor! Professor!” The scientist screamed, and his interference nearly got him killed, as Holiday turned around and fired his gun in his direction. Luckily, the bullet missed him and grazed a nearby wall instead.

“Whoa! Whoa! Let’s not get too trigger-happy, Nicky!” Shego said, taking his gun away from his hands, while Krassman’s assistant approached him, not appearing to be too shaken over the fact that he was almost killed.

“Professor, there’s some odd activity occurring in the accelerators.” The scientist informed.

“Another bird?” Bitterman snootily uttered, and Krassman glared at her before running down the hallway with Rachel, Holiday, Darla, and Shego following close behind. As soon as they all had made it outside the complex, they approached the particle accelerator nearest to it, which was the one Marko was trapped in.

At first, none of them noticed anything but medium-sized dunes piled up in the sand. But then something strange happened. Grains of sand began to shift and the dunes flattened by themselves, joining together with other parts of the mound of sand and developing one large pile that slowly formed the shape of a humanoid being. The sandy human figure attempted to raise his upper body out of the motionless parts of the sand, but had some difficulty doing so, disintegrating back into the sand. For a moment, there was nothing left but one tall, medium-sized dune, but then the shape had risen again and stayed in its humanlike form.

“My God!” Rachel uttered in shock. “What is it?”

They all gazed at the barely detailed figure, as it had formed arms and looked at them and appeared to be horrified by what it was. Their eyes then shifted to the other two particle accelerators in the area, both of which had Marla and Carla trapped inside of at the time of the experiment. In Marla’s accelerator, the large puddle of water had several ripples appearing on its surface, while a human hand (made entirely of water) bobbled out of the water. Soon it was followed by an arm, a shoulder, and a head—none of which were detailed, much like the sandy figure coming out of Marko’s accelerator.

Great deals of electrical sparks were coming from Carla’s accelerator, and they were quickly forming into one large, human-shaped electrical spark that stood in the center of the incomplete particle accelerator. It stood for seconds, until it was suddenly extinguished, vanishing in thin air. But just as sudden as it disappeared, the human-shaped spark returned again and shined brightly, until it began to show signs of detail, such as its gender, hair color, and articles of clothing. And within a millisecond, the electrical spark had morphed into the figure of Carla, much to the surprise of Holiday, Darla, and Shego.

“Good Lord! Carla!” Holiday cried, and he ran over to her particle accelerator, as she was slowly crawling out of it with a stunned expression on her face. He attempted to help her out by taking her hand, but as soon as they touched, an electrical charge shot from her fingertips and shocked Holiday’s. “WHOA! That hurt!” Nicky shook the pain out of his hand and kept his distance from Carla, as she made it out of the particle accelerator and stood on the grass, which began to turn into ash beneath her heavily charged feet.

“What has happened to her?” Darla asked, looking at the stunned Carla before returning her gaze to Marla’s particle accelerator, where a watery human figure was slowly crawling out of the puddle. The process was not easy for it, as it had lost its form a few times, splashing against the wall of the accelerator and running back into the puddle. But once it was finally able to crawl up the wall without any difficulty, its form had slowly transfigured into that of Marla, another surprise to Holiday, Darla, and Shego. “What’s happened to all of them?”

Back in Marko’s particle accelerator, the sandy humanoid figure was having great difficulty in not only returning to its true form, but also retrieving a locket that contained a photograph of Penny Marko, Flint’s daughter. No matter how much it tried to grab it, the locket just went through its flaccid sandy hand. As it kept trying, everyone watched from outside the accelerator with interest, concern, and pity (most of the pity was coming from Shego, who realized who the sandy figure actually was). Shego attempted to go into the accelerator and help the figure out, but Krassman stopped her before she had the chance.

“Vhat ve may possibly have here is a massive breakthrough.” He told her. “Best let de ‘Sandman’ learn ta control his new form on its own.” Shego looked at Krassman strangely, not wanting to treat the Sandman (as Krassman had cleverly nicknamed him) like a science experiment.

The Sandman tried again to snatch the locket and was successful in doing so, forming all five fingers on its heavily webbed hand. He brought the locket up to his face and gazed at the photograph of the two-year-old Penny inside it. Seeing the photo had brought enough determination in the Sandman to bring his sandy body out of the pile, forming two human legs in the process. It was not an easy task for him, as he stumbled a few times while walking towards one section of the circular wall of the particle accelerator. But with each step he had taken, he slowly transfigured into the form of Flint Marko, who had an extremely determined look on his face as he crawled out of the accelerator and walked past the stunned and amazed group standing outside of it.

“Marko, are you alright?” Shego asked, but Marko didn’t respond. He just kept walking in one direction with same determined look on his face. The others followed him, expressing either concern, confusion, or interest in the phenomenon that he, Marla, and Carla had become involved in.

“You must stay here in de facility vith us!” Krassman exclaimed, gazing at Marko and then Marla and Carla. “All of you must stay! Dis is something ve’ve never come across before! It’s astounding!”

“I’m not going to have my friends subjected to some crazy tests like some guinea pigs!” Holiday snapped, pointing angrily at both Krassman and Bitterman. “I don’t know what you’ve done to them, but you’re going to fix it right now or I’m going to pump each of you with lead!”

“Yes, yes! Ve’ll eventually revert dem back ta dere true form!” Krassman seemingly assured. “But you must understand, Mr. Holiday, dat ve’ve never encountered anything such as dis before. It may take days…maybe even years ta return dem ta normal.” Hearing that, Marko stopped walking and slowly turned to Krassman and glared into his eyes.

“I don’t have days or years!” He retorted and began to appear very sympathetic. “My daughter doesn’t have days or years.” And with that being said, Marko turned back into the direction he was heading in and kept moving. Seeing him leave the premises, Rachel began to wonder about the possibilities of having something as remarkable as a man made out of sand, a woman made out of water, and another woman whose body was charged out of electricity to help her extract her revenge on Spider-Man and the Muppets. Quickly, she turned to Nicky Holiday, no longer fearing him but using him to her benefit.

“I’ll make a deal with you, Holiday.” She said, and he listened closely and carefully to her offer. “If you can bring your friend back here, then I’ll provide you with some state-of-the-art weapons that’s a thousand times better than what you’re holding in your hand.” Nicky looked down at the gun in his hand. The thought of having something better to get his revenge on the Muppets was an idea that was as marvelous as being back on top as the most powerful man in Manhattan (his second wish after escaping prison). He looked back at Rachel Bitterman, with a glare in his eyes and a grin on his face that matched his sinister attitude.

“You’ve got a deal, Bitterman.” He said. “But you better have the stuff ready…or I’ll turn you into something worse than living sand!” The harsh tone in his voice had originally intimidated her, but she was finding it so intriguing that she was almost attracted to it. Even though Nicky Holiday looked exactly like Quentin Fitzwaller (her former boyfriend), he was everything that Quentin wasn’t and Rachel hoped for in a man.

“Go get him, tiger.” Rachel unintentionally murmured and accidentally caught Holiday’s attention by saying it.

“Say what?”

“Never mind.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Max Tennyson wanted to keep an eye on K. Edgar Singer long enough to greet him at the moment he regained consciousness, after the heavy blow he gave him over the night. But he needed to get his rest, which his grandchildren had convinced him in getting while they went to Pete’s Diner with Rizzo and Jenny to get some breakfast. In the meantime, Ed was being watched over by Butch and Clyde, who decided to take a break and grab something to eat for themselves in the Boarding House’s kitchen, where Bobo the Bear was fixing his own breakfast, a nice jalapeno sandwich with a hint of honey and peanut butter.

“Hey, Bobo.” They both said, upon entering the kitchen, and Bobo was delighted in seeing them there.

“Well, hello there to you, boys.” The bear replied with a smile. “Either of you want a good jalapeno sandwich to wet your appetites?” Butch and Clyde both nodded in agreement, and Bobo immediately got to making two extra sandwiches for the two former C.O.V.N.E.T. agents, while thinking of the condition of his former boss. “So how’s good old Zongo holdin’ up back there?”

“Uh, well, he’s not holding anything, because he’s not awake.” Clyde said, and Bobo looked at him a little strangely, as Butch shook his head over the way his partner misinterpreted the bear’s question. “But he seems to be doing fine. Just needs a little more rest.”

“Yeah, traveling thousands of light years through space could wear out a guy.” Butch commented. “But who knew it would wipe out his memory, too?”

Bobo just shook his head over the thought of Ed having amnesia. “Boy, must be a terrible thing not remembering what you’ve done over the past eight years. Especially when it’s stuff that defined how great of a guy you turned out to become. In Zongo’s case, help saving the universe.” The way he pointed it out made Butch and Clyde feel as distraught as Gonzo had earlier.

“He doesn’t even remember who we are.” Butch stated. “We might as well be C.O.V.N.E.T. agents again, since we know so much about his background in the organization.”

“Well, we can’t do that, Butch.” Clyde contradicted. “If we do that, we’ll be back to being bad guys and not knowing our true place in society. We’ll be misguided souls again.”

“That’s right. You should listen to the little fella, Butch.” Bobo said and chuckled. “Trust me. Anything’s better than being a C.O.V.ie.”

“Like what?” Clyde curiously asked.

“Well, say for example a security guard.” Bobo replied. “I was once one for the KMUP station in San Francisco, before that Hulk rampage thing happened, and I was left surveying the premises for the Muppet Theatre. I remember having to tow away some punk kid’s convertible, after he parked it in a illegal spot.”

“So you’re suggesting that we become security guards?” Butch asked.

“Not exactly.” Bobo said. “I’m just saying that you can do something more useful than watching out for extraterrestrial threats and holding really big guns.”

“Like the one Zongo’s holding right now?” Clyde asked, and their heads turned towards the doorway, where a fully conscious Ed Singer was aiming a fully loaded gun that weighted a lot and was almost as large as Ed. The three former C.O.V.N.E.T. agents stared at the man who still believed he was one, as he entered the kitchen with a wicked look on his face.

“Rentro?” He said, staring at Bobo. “What are you doing out of uniform and…making jalapeno sandwiches?” Bobo wasn’t quite sure how to respond to his former amnesiac boss, who seemed to have returned to his paranoid, delusional psychopathic persona. He gazed at the sandwich in his paws and then up at Ed again, thinking of a way to keep him calm enough to possibly go back to his room and get some rest.

“I was…uh…just on my way back to work, sir.” Bobo said, and Butch and Clyde glanced at him oddly, while Bobo gestured towards them. “In fact, we all were.” Ed looked towards Butch and Clyde, who he did not recognize, even though he had met them last year during the intergalactic war incident.

“I don’t remember these two being in the factory recently.” Ed said, looking at the two suspiciously. “Who are they?”

“They’re…uh…” Bobo was having a hard time coming up with a good lie for Ed to believe. Luckily, Butch seemed to have the perfect one, although he had no clue where the plan was going.

“We’re new recruits, sir!” He exclaimed, and Clyde gave him the same look that they had given Bobo.

“We are?” Clyde asked, just as there was a loud thud beneath the table, where Butch had kicked his friend and partner.

“Yes, we are, Clyde.” Butch said through gritted teeth. “We signed up just yesterday, remember?”

Clyde still wasn’t catching his partner’s drift, as he tried to shake the pain out of his leg. “Butch, yesterday we went to see that play by the Mup…” There was another loud thud underneath the table, but that time the kick didn’t come from Butch—it came from Bobo. “THERE’S SOMETHING ATTACKING ME!”

“Hit the deck!” Ed screamed, and he aimed his gun at the table, firing it and unleashing a powerful blast that vaporized the table and all of the contents sitting on it. Butch, Clyde, and Bobo all stared at the ashy remains of the kitchen table in shock, while Ed had heard some footsteps overhead, signifying that one of the boarding house residents heard the gunshot and was coming downstairs to check things out. “Tennyson’s here! I remember seeing his face before he so barbarically knocked me unconscious!” Ed reloaded his gun and looked up at the ceiling viciously, listening to the footsteps and waiting for Max to come. “It’s payback time!” Bobo, Butch, and Clyde all looked at each other cautiously, fearing that a violent confrontation was approaching.

“U-U-Uh, s-sir? Maybe it would be a better idea if we got back to headquarters!” Bobo suggested. “I…uh…I forgot to mention that we snuck in this place last night to…uh…to…”

“Avoid a fierce attack by the infamous…Tripods!” Butch finished, and Clyde appeared to be actually shocked over the false news, which Ed didn’t seem to be buying into.

“Impossible!” He angrily snapped.

“No, I’ve heard it to be true.” Clyde told Ed. “Haven’t you ever heard that old radio broadcast by Orson Welles?”

“No, I mean it’s impossible because there’s a much more worse attack coming.” Ed uttered, and that was when he had stopped and remembered one important thing that should’ve been locked in his memory, before his horrific crash back to Earth. With that information back in his mind, he acknowledged Bobo’s suggestion of leaving the boarding house by grabbing Clyde and pushing Butch and Bobo towards the front door.

“Glad you’re thinking so clearly there, sir.” Bobo said. “Baby steps. Baby steps, sir. Heh, heh!”

“Baby steps?” Butch exclaimed, as they were being pushed out the door and headed across the front lawn with Ed and Clyde close behind. “We must be rapidly aging into adulthood with the steps we’re takin’!”

Back inside the boarding house, Max Tennyson came downstairs and glanced around to see where the blast had come from. When he spotted the remains of the vaporized kitchen table, he knew that something terrible must’ve happened and the footsteps made by Bobo and Butch (who had accidentally stepped in the table’s remains) would lead him to the cause. Max chased after the footsteps and was led to the outside, where he spotted the fully conscious Ed Singer leading Butch, Clyde, and Bobo out to the middle of the street.

“Singer!” Max yelled, and just as soon as Ed realized that he had been spotted by his worse nemesis ever, he aimed his gun at him and attempted to unleash another fierce blast. But before he could have pulled the trigger, he heard a loud honking noise and turned his head to see a taxicab pulling up towards him and the three Muppets and stopping within only a few feet. They blankly stared at the cab, as its driver popped his head out of the driver’s side window and shouted to them. The cab driver was the same one that brought Edward Morbius to the Happiness Hotel—the young man known as Ryan.

“GET IN!” Ryan yelled, and without any hesitation, the four immediately jumped into the taxicab, which speeded down the street and out of the neighborhood, once the passengers were safely inside. Max, with extreme determination to bring Singer back, ran over to the “Rust Bucket” (his nickname for his motorhome) and got inside to start up the vehicle and drive away from the boarding house, chasing after Ryan’s taxicab.

When Ryan, Ed, Butch, Clyde, and Bobo were out of the neighborhood and heading into Lower Manhattan, neither of them had stopped looking behind them to see if Max was anywhere in sight, which he had not been yet. Ryan was at least doing sixty miles per hour in the cab, trying his best to loose their tail. But while he was doing so, he made time to introduce himself to the men that he had just rescued.

“Agent Singer…my name is Ryan.” He said, reaching behind him to shake Ed’s hand while still keeping his eyes on the road. “Sir, I can’t begin to express how much of an honor it is for me to meet one of the greatest legends of C.O.V.N.E.T.” Ed, Bobo, Butch, and Clyde could not believe how a common taxi driver like Ryan could know so much about such a secret organization.

“Wow. Another new recruit!” Clyde exclaimed, still oblivious to the sudden change of events. “And to think, we were thinkin’ about givin’ up being C.O.V.ies completely, Butch.”

“New recruit?” Ryan said with confusion and laughed. “No. I’m afraid that I’m far from that, my friend.”

“You mean, you’ve been in the organization for some time now?” Ed asked him. “I don’t remember seeing you around the factory either.”

“I was about to say the same about you, sir.” Ryan remarked. “General Luft has been asking about you almost every day. He had us on a five-year search, just for you. But after the fifth year, he gave up wondering where you were and just assuming that you had done as he requested and got some ‘special’ help.” Ed couldn’t believe what Ryan was telling him. In his mind, it was only yesterday when he was at Cape Doom, threatening to take Gonzo and his family away in his cement truck. After that, everything was a blur to him. “Of course, I don’t think you’re insane, sir. I’ve been following your work, ever since you disappeared from the team. When Luft gave up on that search, I disappeared myself, in order to find out what might’ve really happened to you. I’m so glad that I got to you before anybody else did!”

Ryan was talking just as frantic as he was driving. He was expressing his joy of meeting Ed Singer for the first time in a way that Butch, Clyde, and Bobo had wished wasn’t in the streets of New York City during rush hour. Other cars were honking angrily at the cab driver/former C.O.V.ie, as he speeded in between several. But soon things became just as more hectic, as Ryan had noticed Max Tennyson’s “Rust Bucket” in his rearview mirror.

“OH, CRAP!” Ryan screamed, right before he opened the glove compartment and revealed a secret control panel that contained hundreds of small buttons and switches. “Hold on tight, guys!” With the press of one of the smallest buttons on the panel, the trunk of Ryan’s taxicab opened and a pair of specially designed booster rockets popped out, firing up automatically and sending Ryan’s taxicab jetting down the straight. Max watched in shock from the driver’s seat of his motorhome, as other cars were flipped off the road from the impact of Ryan’s unusual taxicab.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

END OF CHAPTER FIVE​

 

[The Count]

Woo-hoo! What a great romp! Loved every last little bit of it. From Rachael's Mary Jane moment to Agent Ryan rescuing Ed Singer.
Oh, thank you for the update, rully needed something to lift my spirits. Please post more when you can.

 

[theprawncracker]

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh my GOSH Sean! That was... HAHAHA! *GLOMP!* Oh that was AWESOME! I LOVE the taxi! And Butch and Clyde are SO great! *bounces* Especially this part:

“Baby steps?" Butch exclaimed, as they were being pushed out the door and headed across the front lawn with Ed and Clyde close behind. “We must be rapidly aging into adulthood with the steps we’re takin’!"

TOO funny! Great job, and more please!

 

[The Count]

Hey Sean... If you sneak in here in the middle of the night while I'm offline... Please post more story! Either this one or Legends, I need an update for either or both stories soon please.
And if you get the chance, I'd like to hear what you think about that E-mail I sent you. Take care buddy.

 

[muppetwriter]

Here you go. Sorry it took so long.

Chapter Six​

Ben felt so stuffed that he had to unfasten his belt halfway to let his stomach hang a little. The food at Pete’s Diner was like nothing he had ever eaten before, and it was a trillion times better than the meals that his Grandpa Max fed him and Gwen while on their cross-country summer trip. If there was one thing he and his cousin could agree on, it was the idea of great food like the large pepperoni and olive pizza that Pete served to them that afternoon.

“Ahh!” Ben uttered. “Ya know? For a restaurant where a bunch of rats cook the food instead of regular people, that was awesomely sweet.”

Rizzo and Jenny sat near the two cousins as they leaned back and savored the divine taste of the pizza in their mouths. Pete was nearby, smiling brightly while cleaning the front counter. Though the old Greek cook seemed to be happy on the outside, he was very distraught on the inside. As of late, the diner hadn’t had as many customers as it used to, with Rachel Bitterman opening a chain of fast food restaurants everywhere around Pete’s Diner and threatening him and Jenny each day with a foreclosure notice. The diner was all the two had; it was the only home that they lived in. It distraught Pete knowing that soon he and his daughter would be put out on the streets, without the proper amount of money to pay off Bitterman. But he retained his cheerful spirit to give her and their friends hope of a better future.

“I’m glad that you enjoy the food.” Pete told Ben and Gwen. “I try to make best pizza that customers have ever tasted. Better than the ‘hut pizza’ and the place with all the dominos.”

“It tastes great, Pop.” Jenny remarked, while Rizzo scoffed a little.

“I wouldn’t say it’s better dan Bitterman’s pizza.” He murmured, and even though the rat spoke with a low tone of voice, Jenny and Pete could still hear his faithless comment, but didn’t pay any mind to it.

Although one thing came to mind as there was a loud dinging noise at the door, signifying that someone had just come inside. Everyone turned their heads to see four new customers entering the diner: two middle-aged ducks named Drake Mallard and Launchpad McQuack, and a couple of young ducks named Gosalyn Mallard (Drake’s daughter) and her best friend, Honker Muddlefoot. Upon their arrival, Gosalyn was holding up a recent copy of The Daily Bugle that had an image of Norman Osborn’s Green Goblin printed on the front page. She was screaming to her father as she waved it in his face.

“This guy is making you look like a sham, Dad! A has-been!” Gosalyn shouted. “When some weirdo comes out of nowhere and shoots webs from his wrists, it should be your job as a crime-fighter to outfight him! For cryin’ out loud, you’re the one and only Darkwing Du…!”

Drake’s hand instantly went to Gosalyn’s beak, squeezing it shut before she could’ve completely uttered his alter ego’s name. “That’s enough, young lady! I don’t want to hear another peep out of you, while we’re eating at this restaurant, which we’ve hadn’t been to yet.”

Launchpad looked curiously around the interior of Pete’s Diner, noting its old and decaying wallpaper, the cracked and sticky tiled floor, the wobbly tables, and old fashioned dishes that looked as if they were long past their usage. It wasn’t the best restaurant that he had ever seen, but from the positive things that out-of-towners like him and his friends had heard, they just couldn’t resisted to have a look at the place.

“Gee, it’s kinda hard to believe that an old place like this makes some of the best cooked meals in Manhattan.” The husky-voiced pilot remarked, while Drake began to wonder if it were a mistake coming to such a dump of a restaurant. His webbed feet were slowly easing towards the door, with Gosalyn ushered along with him.

“Maaaaybe we should go check out that new place downtown, the one owned by that beautiful, rich banker.” Drake suggested, which led Gosalyn to look up at him awkwardly.

“Dad! Do you know how expensive that place is?”

Drake gritted his teeth and glared into his daughter’s eyes. “The price couldn’t be as bad as the paint job on this dump.” His words didn’t go unnoticed by the other patrons and the owners, who all lowered their heads in despair. Honker took notice of how distressed they looked; he had never seen someone so distraught (himself excluded). Gosalyn and Launchpad also noticed, but couldn’t say anything more to Drake, because they knew he would be too stubborn and arrogant to listen.

Before the four tourists could step past the front door and depart from the diner, something blurred past them at a remarkable speed and trailed a shockwave so powerful that it not only knocked Drake, Gosalyn, Honker, and Launchpad off their feet, it blew out all of the windows inside Pete’s. Pete, Jenny, Rizzo, and the Tennyson kids also reeled back from the unexpected chaos, falling out of their chairs while their table turned over and all of the contents spilled to the already stained floor.

As soon as the chaos had completely passed, a determined Ben Tennyson and a furious Drake Mallard were the first ones to get to their feet and run out of the nearly ravaged diner to see what it was that caused the destruction. Soon after, they were joined by their family and friends, all seeing the exterior of one building demolished before the next after what appeared to have been a flying taxicab breaking the sound barrier had rocketed through the area. While everyone’s eyes were focused solely on the strange phenomenon, Drake had taken the time to slip into the alleyway and “transform” into his superhero alter ego, Darkwing Duck.

“What da heck was dat?” Rizzo exclaimed, while Ben was already running down the street.

“That’s what I’m about to find out!” The ten-year-old bravely stated. “And I’m gonna do it with a little help from a guy named XLR8!” What Ben had done next was something Pete, Jenny, Rizzo, Gosalyn, Launchpad, and Honker did not see coming a mile away. They watched the boy fiddled with his unusual wristwatch one moment and then a green flash blinding them the next, seeing an ten-foot, four-armed, four-eyed (yellow-eyed), red-skinned, muscled creature taking Ben’s place on the payment. Staring at his hands (all four of them), the red, hulking creature expressed his displeasure at what he saw. “Aww, man! How come I get Fourarms at a time when I don’t want him?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Although Ryan knew exactly how to control his rocketing taxicab, he never anticipated on the effects of it breaking the sound barrier. But he didn’t care, as long as he had a C.O.V.N.E.T. legend sitting in his backseat with three former agents by his side. All Ryan wanted at that moment was to take them someplace secret and safe from anyone who was ever against the organization (like Max Tennyson).

The taxicab rocketed in between two buildings in Manhattan: one owned by the richest duck in the world, the Scottish-born Scrooge McDuck, and the other was one that had been under construction. After the taxicab passed through the two buildings, only a few of the bottom floors on the McDuck complex fell under the cab’s wrath, but the rest of the floors (including the highest ones) were still secured. But despite the fact that it had rocketed so far below, its shockwave still interfered with the operations of a huge crane that had been sitting on the rooftop of the partially completed building.

“What the heck?” The crane operator cried, as he had been hoisting a massive steel girder above the street. Warning lights had flashed on the control panel within the cab, and the crane operator struggled desperately to bring things back under his command. His efforts were well intentioned but futile, and he had screamed into the microphone connecting him to the foreman. “I’ve lost control! Shut it down!”

His foreman tried to do just that, but was thwarted by the very problem that had caused the controls to go out of whack in the first place: a short in the transformer. Sparks flew out of it, several of them bouncing against a sign with an interchangeable number slot on it that read, “Seventy-nine days accident free!” leaving small scorch marks.

Amidst the chaos, a strange flying device flew towards the rooftop, carrying a set of critters (two chipmunks, two mice, and a tiny, green housefly that was flying a little close to it) that were all dressed in clothing best suited for them, such as a fedora and flight jacket, a red and yellow Hawaiian t-shirt, a trench coat and green sweater, and blue overalls and goggles. As soon as the device landed on the rooftop of the half-completed building, the critters ran towards the out-of-control crane and stared up at it in horror.

“Golly! That thing’s gonna blow if we don’t stop it!” A female mice with the overalls and goggles indicated, while a male one with the trench coat and green sweater noticed a shut-off override switch nearby and immediately ran towards it.

“I’m right on it, Gadget luv!” He said with an Australian accent.

“Monty! No! Wait!” A male chipmunk with the fedora and flight jacket cried out to the mouse, who had already executed his task by yanking the switch.

“Too late, Chip! Look!” Another male chipmunk with the red and yellow Hawaiian t-shirt said, pointing to the crane, which had received a sizable jolt that blew the operator backward, instead of shutting it down. The crane began to swing wildly, and all its erstwhile operator and his critter rescuers could do was watch in horror and wish for a miracle.

“Let’s hope our friends get here in time.” The fedora-wearing chipmunk named Chip uttered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Inside one of the top floors in the McDuck building, the photo shoot continued blissfully along with music blaring and photographer clicking, unaware of the chaos that was taking place outside. The publishers of an office supply catalog had rented the offices in the building for the day. Three comely models (a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead) were draping themselves over the latest-model office copier and desperately trying to make mundane photocopying look sexy.

Scrooge McDuck didn’t anticipate on bringing his identical nephews (Huey, Dewey, and Louie) to work that day, mostly because he had forgotten that the shoot was supposed to take place. As he attempted to urge them out of the room, the three models alternated chatting about guy matters while tossing smiles at the photographer. The brunette was an exotic-looking Latina named J.J. Sachs, the redhead was Wendy Goldstein, and the blond was Gwen Stacy, Peter Parker’s lab partner at Empire State University.

Ernie Schultz, the heavyset and increasingly annoyed photographer, liked the position they were in and fired off a few quick shots. He had been peering through the viewfinder, trying to compose a different shot, and now he was looking up in annoyance. “What’s that thing doing in my background?”

His “background” consisted of a New York skyline visible out the wide windows behind them. Gwen turned to see what he was talking about, and at first she wasn’t clear on what she was seeing either. It was moving quickly, but the shadows of the skyscrapers were obscuring it. Then her eyes widened in horror as she saw the massive arm of a construction crane swinging toward them at high speed. Dangling beneath it was a teetering girder.

“Blow me bagpipes!” Scrooge exclaimed, seeing the same thing. “Everyone get down!” They all dove to the floor as the spinning girder shattered the window, glass flying everywhere. Gwen kept her eyes shut, terrified of being blinded by flying shards, as small pieces of broken window littered her hair. The girder kept going, smashing lighting fixtures, sending sparks flying, and annihilating a row of desks, reducing them to splinters. Then, just as quickly and surreally as it had appeared, the girder was whisked out the window.

“Wow-wee!” Huey uttered, as everyone slowly got to his or her feet. “What do you think might’ve caused that?”

“Let’s just hope the worse is over.” Scrooge stated, while they all stood in the middle of the office wreckage, marveling at not only the amount of destruction, but that they were still alive to see it. Still stunned, they picked their way through it, inspecting the damage. Impressed by the photographic possibilities the devastation offered, Ernie snapped a few shots, only to be stopped by Scrooge soon afterwards. “Will you cut that out?” That’s when a high-pitched whistling of wind filled the wrecked office. As one, they turned and saw a massive shadow sweeping over them.

“It’s coming back!” Dewey cried, and having no desire to press their luck and uncertain they’d be fortunate enough to survive a second pass, the group bolted for the door. The girder suddenly dipped, swung low, and slammed into the building one story below them.

Ernie was leading the way (or, more likely, was just trying to save his own life), as he threw open the door and charged through. Wendy and J.J. were right behind him, with Gwen, Scrooge, and his nephews bringing up the rear. Suddenly the entire office violently tilted, as if it were constructed on a gigantic seesaw. The girder took out the structural support columns in the floor below them, leaving the entire office structure where they were pitching downward at a forty-five-degree angle.

Scrooge and his nephews had been sliding as well, but he had grabbed hold of a metal strut in the floor that had been ripped open by the girder’s initial pass through. He snagged the arm of Dewey in the process, and Dewey snagged Huey’s, who immediately grabbed Louie before he could’ve slid further. Louie attempted to grab for Gwen, but she went right past him. The four of them watched helplessly in shock, as Gwen went toward the open window. Pencils, cans of soda, and rolling chairs skidded past her, tumbling out the smashed window and falling to the street below.

Gwen also slid right out the window but, at the last second, snagged a jutting piece of the steel window frame. From the rooftop across her, the peculiarly dressed critters known as the Rescue Rangers watched the endangered blonde dangle in midair, with her legs pin-wheeling as if she were riding an invisible bicycle. She hung one hundred stories above the street.

“We’ve got to do something!” Gadget cried.

The Rescue Rangers heard the familiar sound of police sirens blaring and looked down below to see half a dozen police cars already on the scene when police captain George Stacy leaped out of the vehicle. He was tall, with an angular face and eyes that alternated between being kind and understanding or fiercely penetrating and threatening, depending upon whether he was dealing with a victim or a suspected criminal. At the moment, they were only filled with concern.

A police officer working under Captain Stacy known as Nina Valerosa rushed up to him. “Sir, they got some kind of short up there, and they can’t shut down the crane.”

“Get Con Ed on the phone,” Captain Stacy ordered. “Have them kill the power to the whole block!”

“Yes, sir!” Nina acknowledged.

“And get me a rescue team up there!” He shouted.

People screamed as debris started hitting the streets. The crowd, pressing forward like curious sheep to get a better look, almost stampeded trying to get back out of the way, as various pieces of office furniture tumbled from high above and either crashed to the pavement or ricocheted off parked cars. Car alarms howled in protest as the vehicles’ roofs and hoods were crushed by plummeting furniture.

Nearby, a fresh-faced, short-cropped-blond known as Eddie Brock came rolling up to the site of the crane emergency in a yellow cab. He had camera equipment hanging from a strap around his neck, with an expression like a starving dog seeing fresh meat dangled in front of him. Anyone else would have considered it a fluke that Brock, tossing back drinks in a local bar, had seen the unfolding crisis on a news report and realized it was only ten blocks away. But Eddie Brock didn’t believe in luck—he believed in destiny, and he further believed that he was destined for greatness.

As he clambered out of the cab, he slapped his Daily Bugle identification on his black leather jacket so that the police could tell at a glance that he was not one of the mere masses. He was a man with a job to do, same as they had. With any luck, neither of them would get in each other’s way while they were doing it.

Brock approached the scene with a very different mental attitude from Captain Stacy’s—he was looking for the dramatic shots. He heard Nina shouting, “Get that taxi out of here!” but the cab was already on its way out. Brock sidestepped a police rescue team and brought his camera up, looking for something truly juicy. He fired off several quick shots of the girder flapping around in midair, but he knew even as he did so that it was boring. The ideal situation would be to get a shot of someone plummeting to his or her death. That was page-one material. That was the stuff that Pulitzers were made of.

Scanning the building exterior, he was suddenly certain he saw a tiny form high above. It wasn’t falling, but it was on the verge of doing so. He pulled out his extreme telephoto lens, brought it up to his trained eye, and zoomed in on what now appeared to be a helpless blonde fighting for the last few seconds of her life. He lowered the camera and realized something incredibly shocking.

“My God! That’s Gwen!” He yelled, with shock pounding through his brain and briefly considering not taking the picture. Captain Stacy approached him with a strange look on his face.

“Gwen?” He uttered, grabbing the camera from Brock. The strap was still looped around Eddie’s neck, nearly causing him to strangle as the police captain peered through the lens to see for himself. He gasped and said in confirmation upon seeing her, “That’s my daughter!” Brock made a gargling noise, pointing at the strap that was cutting off his air, and the cop promptly released his hold. As Eddie cleared his throat, Stacy stared at him in confusion. “Who are you?” Nina appeared by Eddie, addressing the police captain and not once looking at Brock.

“You want me to haul away this creep, Captain?” She asked, before Brock shot her a dirty look over the way she referred to him as a “creep.”

“No, no!” Eddie exclaimed, flashing his identification to the two officers. “I’m Eddie Brock Jr. I’m dating your daughter, sir.” He forced a smile as Captain Stacy simply stared at him as if he were a new type of fungus, before focusing his gaze on Nina.

“Keep him at a safe distance.” He ordered, and apparently giving Brock no further thought, he returned his attention back on the situation at hand. Brock brought the camera back up to his eye and refocused. He watched in helpless frustration, but snapping shots the entire time, as bits of metal starting flying past Gwen’s head. And it wasn’t long before Scrooge’s nephews began to loose their grip on both each other and their uncle.

“Uncle Scrooge! We’re slipping!” Dewey cried, as Scrooge strained desperately while trying to maintain his hold.

“Just…hold on…a little longer…” But his feathery fingers began to sweat more and more, causing him to loose his grip on Dewey completely. “BOYS!” He watched in fear as the three of them screamed while sliding towards Gwen and the open window. Gwen also watched in fear of the boys’ plight, wishing that she could’ve done something to save them in time. But she was left watching helplessly as they slid past her and began to fall one hundred feet into the air.

All of the spectators down below gasped in shock at the sight of the boys falling down the side of their uncle’s building. Eddie Brock had grinned at the sight, capturing the intense moments of their fall on camera and hoping it would make the front page of the Bugle. But soon a flash of red and blue hurtled across Brock’s field of vision, blocking out his shot. Confused, Eddie switched from a tight angle to wide…and was astounded to see Huey, Dewey, and Louie caught safely by Spider-Man (who was swinging on a web) and Kim Possible (swinging from a cable protruding from her grappling hook).

Gwen and Scrooge sighed a breathe of relief over Spidey and Kim’s perfect timing, watching them both land on the rooftop across from them and set the boys down near the equally thankful Rescue Rangers. But just when the moment seemed to have been eased by the heroes’ daring rescue, it was soon brought back to a chaotic state, as bits of metal started flying past Gwen’s head. The rivets that connected the window frame to the building were popping out one by one. Gwen opened her mouth and was undoubtedly screaming, catching the attention of the small group across from her.

“Meet you and Ron back on the street shortly.” Spidey told Kim, who nodded in agreement, before she watched the web-slinger dived off the roof. The metal frame tore away from the building. It swung thirty feet outward and left Gwen dangling high above the intersection. There was no way she was going to be able to hold on, and nowhere for her to go even if she managed to do so. But Spider-Man was on his way to save her, until…

“I am the terror that swings in the night…er, uh…I mean, day!” Spidey heard the voice just as he turned his head to see a white and purple figure swing toward him at a rapid speed and instantaneously crash right into him. Kim, the Rescue Rangers, and Scrooge’s nephews watched in confusion as both Spidey and the incorrigible and bad-timing Darkwing Duck flew right into the wrecked office building floor, landing hard right near Scrooge.

The impact of their landing only caused the metal frame that Gwen was holding onto to wobble and shake her off from it. Spidey, Darkwing, and Scrooge heard her screams, and Spidey dived out into the air to go after her. Dodging several bits of large and small debris, he was able to get close enough to Gwen to catch her and swing both of them to safety through a line of webbing fired from his right wrist. They descended to street level, where Spider-Man set Gwen gently down upon the ground. It wasn’t long before he was leaping skyward and began spinning some sort of webbing net directly above the crowd, right before a hail of concrete descended upon them from above. Scattered debris from the crumbled floor high overhead continued to rain down, and the hastily spun web held firm as the wreckage fell harmlessly on it. It sagged a bit under the weight but didn’t break.

From the rooftop of the construction site, Kim and the others were relieved that she and the bystanders were rescued in time. But it took the sound of straining metal to help them realize that the crane was still moving out of control. Spider-Man, who was staring up at it from a lamppost, was actually scratching his head and trying to figure out the best way to approach the problem. He knew that he had to come up with something right away, because it looked as if the mechanical behemoth was on the verge of falling completely off the rooftop.

“It’s teetering!” Kim screamed.

“We’ve got to do something!” Dale exclaimed.

“But what?” Chip hopelessly asked, and they all stood there, watching the tilting crane and trying frantically to figure out a way to hold it down long enough to be able to shut it down.

Before anyone could come up with a reasonable idea, someone (or, more less, something) appeared on the rooftop and grabbed hold of the rear of the tilting crane, pushing it down and pulling it away from the edge. From the street, neither Spidey nor any of the onlookers could see who or what was keeping the crane from falling, and they were left in a mixed emotion of confusion and relief. But on the rooftop, Kim and the others were watching in awe and amazement as a four-armed, red alien holding down the crane with no sense of strain on his face.

“What the heck is that thing?” Gadget curiously asked.

“Best to answer the million-dollar question after the trouble’s been adverted.” Monterey Jack replied, just as every light on the street suddenly went out and the runaway crane came to a slow, grinding halt. A ragged cheer arose from the crowd below, even though there was still two ducks in serious danger inside the wrecked floor of McDuck’s building.

“Who and what are you?” Scrooge angrily asked the darkly clad figure before him, whom at a first glance seemed to have been another rescuer, but in a split second became another victim.

“Uh…I’m here to save you…” Darkwing sheepishly replied, and McDuck rolled his eyes in exasperation, while a loud roar was heard outside. They soon noticed, along with the group on the rooftop, how a high-tech airplane shaped like a duck’s bill and colored in a mixture of light and dark purple was hovering in between the two buildings. The cockpit opened, revealing its passengers (Launchpad, Gosalyn, and Honker). As soon as Launchpad spotted Scrooge and Darkwing together, a pleasant grin crept across his face.

“Hey, how ‘bout this?” Launchpad said. “Both of my favorite bosses hanging out together…literally!” Scrooge and Darkwing weren’t very flattered by Launchpad’s display of comedy, due to the immanent danger they were in.

“LAUNCHPAD! SAVE US!” They both cried.

“Oh, yeah, right.” Launchpad said, and he pressed a button on the controls that caused two mechanical hands (both wearing white gloves and sprouting at least four fingers) to pop out the side and grab both the rich tycoon and the bumbling hero, bringing them into the cockpit. As soon as Scrooge’s nephews noticed that Launchpad was the pilot of the aircraft, they didn’t hesitate (even though they should’ve, due to his lack of piloting skills) to catch a lift.

“Hey, Launchpad! Mind if we join ya?” Huey asked, and Launchpad smiled over their appearance.

“Sure. Hop in.” He affirmed, and the boys had done so, while the Rescue Rangers returned to their Ranger Plane, taking off in it. Kim remained where she was to look back at the rear of the once uncontrollable crane, where the red-colored alien once stood. She was befuddled over its disappearance and curious to know where it had come from. “You, too, young lady!” The heroic teen looked in the direction of the hovering aircraft, seeing Launchpad wave her on. “No one’s getting left behind here.”

“Tell that to whatever that thing was.” Kim murmured, before she jumped right into the cockpit. It closed as soon as Launchpad flew it back down to the street, where the large crowd continued to stand, watching Spider-Man climb down from the lamppost and stand near Captain Stacy and his daughter. In the midst of the large crowd was another young girl named Gwen, joined by Jenny and Rizzo as they all looked for her cousin, Ben.

“Gwen! Gwen!” An unfamiliar voice cried, and in reaction, Gwen turned her head to see whom it was calling her name. When she noticed Eddie Brock running towards her, she felt a little perplexed, at least until he passed right by her, Jenny, and Rizzo and quickly made his way over to where Captain Stacy was steadying his daughter.

“Wow. How many Gwens are in dis city?” Rizzo asked.

They heard the laughter of a young child near them. Turning their heads again, they saw Ben approaching them with a confident smile on his face. Jenny and Rizzo stared at him awkwardly, after seeing the unusual transformation that occurred outside their diner between the human child and the four-armed alien.

“Did you guys see me out there?” Ben said. “I just saved the butts of everyone on this street, including yours.” Gwen didn’t really appreciate Ben’s overconfidence after performing a heroic deed, because it was not the way a hero should act. She especially didn’t appreciate him transforming in front of complete strangers whose minds were now filled with unanswered questions.

“Can we talk after we’re away from all of this?” She demanded. “Grandpa is so going to be mad at you, once he finds out how you went hero in plain sight.”

“But I…” Ben didn’t even have one second to defend himself, as Gwen grabbed his arm and forced him away from the crowd, with Jenny and Rizzo following close behind.

Meanwhile, as the passengers of the Thunderquack (the aircraft owned by Darkwing Duck and piloted by Launchpad McQuack) hopped out, Ron Stoppable approached Kim and went right to checking to see if she was all right. He looked at each part of her body, from her feet to her arms. She was slightly annoyed by his overprotection, which had grown since their battle with Doctor Octavius, and as soon as he was checking on her backside, she didn’t hesitate to stop him.

“Ron! I’m fine!”

“Ya sure, K.P.? ‘Cause I can always get you an ambulance.” Ron offered. “I’m sure they’ll be here in a second or two.” Though he was annoying her deeply, she appreciated the fact that he had cared so much.

“Thanks, but I don’t have a scratch on me.” Kim said, and while she was looking back up at the rooftop to the construction site, Scrooge had come up to her and Ron with his nephews close to him and a satisfied look on his face.

“I owe you lads my life for rescuing my nephews.” He told them, shaking each of their hands. “If it hadn’t been for your remarkable timing, they would’ve surely been in danger and I don’t know how I would go on without them.”

“So not the drama, Mr. McDuck.” Kim stated. “It was all in a days work for your friendly neighborhood ‘Web of Heroes’. No big.”

“Well, it is big to me. The only thing I value more than money is my family.” Scrooge said. “I will definitely see to it that your deeds this day doesn’t go unnoticed. The both of you, as well as the amazing Spider-Man, will be awarded heartily!” Hearing that, Darkwing could not believe that his name was not mentioned.

“Hey, hey!” He exclaimed, standing in between McDuck and the teens. “What about me? My pilot was the one who got us down in my aircraft! I at least get some recognition, don’t I?”

McDuck scoffed at Darkwing and glared at him, almost as if he was burning a hole through his retinas. “You are just a menace on ground as that former pilot of mine is in the air! And if I ever see either of you again, I will personally see to it that you’ll be put under a jail cell!” With that being said by McDuck, the richest duck in the world left the scene with his nephews, while the furious Darkwing Duck left as well inside the Thunderquack with Launchpad, Gosalyn, and Honker.

“Okay. That was weird.” Ron uttered, before they heard the arrogant voice of Eddie Brock talking to Gwen Stacy.

“Beautiful! Pulitzer Prize!” He tapped his camera. “Wait until you see that shot, Gwen. The light on your hair was golden.”

Gwen gave him the same “Who are you?” look that her father had given him only moments before. Only then did it occur to Eddie Brock that he had just admitted to snapping shots of Gwen during what had seemed to be her tragic and violent death. Perhaps that wasn’t the smartest thing to be crowing about.

“Are you okay?” Spider-Man asked Gwen, who looked absolutely adored by his appearance.

“I’m fine. Thank you, Spider-Man.”

Desperate to insert himself into the moment, Brock called out, “Hold it, Spidey! Smile!” Spider-Man turned and looked in his direction as Brock snapped away. “Are you smiling?” Brock asked, and Spider-Man continued to stare at him. “Just kidding.” Brock felt foolish and not knowing why he did. Nearby, Kim and Ron were staring at him awkwardly, wondering more of who he was than what he was doing.

“Is he some kind of fan?” Ron asked, and Kim shrugged her shoulders. She and Ron then proceeded to step in Brock’s way, blocking his view of Spidey through his camera and stopping him from taking any further pictures. “Hey, hey, buddy! If you wanna take photos of Spidey, you’re gonna have to pay fifty bucks!”

“Ron!” Kim exclaimed.

“OK.” Ron said. “Ninety bucks!”

“RON!” Kim and Spidey both yelled, and Ron stepped out of the way, long enough for Brock to introduce himself to Spider-Man.

“Name’s Eddie Brock. I’ll be taking shots of you for the Bugle from now on.” Kim and Ron looked to each other strangely, knowing completely about Peter’s position at the newspaper and as Spidey’s personal photographer (even though they were both the same person). “I’m the new guy.”

“But they’ve already got a guy.” Kim said. “Peter Parker.”

“Strictly amateur.” Brock remarked dismissively. “Wouldn’t know an f-stop from a bus stop. His stuff makes Spidey look bloated. Little chunky.” Kim and Ron looked to Spidey, wondering if beyond that red mask was an offended expression on the face of its wearer.

“Well, if you’re going to take pictures, at least include K.P. and me in them.” Ron suggested, and Kim was about to protest the idea, until they heard a sarcastic snicker come out of Brock.

“You two? You’re just the sidekicks. Who would care to read about you?” Brock’s comment was what almost made Kim come after him in a threatening manner, if Ron hadn’t held her back in time.

“Whoa! Uh…I think it’s time for us to say goodbye, before all our company becomes reduced to a minimum.” Ron said, and Spidey nodded in reply, as he fired a webline and swung off across the cityscape. A huge, rousing cheer went up as he departed, while Kim and Ron were left leaving unnoticed by them in a taxicab.

None of the crowd saw Spider-Man, several blocks away, stop on a ledge in front of a window and study his full profile in reflection. He placed his hand flat on his stomach, then sucked in his gut. “Chunky?” he muttered, and decided right then and there that this Brock guy was not going to be on his Christmas card list.

END OF CHAPTER SIX​