Spider-Man/Muppets Fanfic: The Spectacular

[JEANYLASER]

cool i love this story!

 

[muppetwriter]

Old habits die hard in this next chapter.

Chapter Eleven​

Sean and Lori knew exactly the life that they would be coming back to after making that fateful decision to return to New York City, with “Cousin Stanley” in tow. Things didn’t seem quite a simple back years ago when they were working at The Bugle with Kermit, Fozzie, and Gonzo, and it still surprised them to that very day that they were able to survive it all. What Fozzie had done that day was just like those old days that the siblings wished never to experience again. But experiencing it anyways almost brought some joy into them—joy that they haven’t had in the longest time. However, such joy also brought horrible exhaustion.

The Thomas siblings returned to the Happiness Hotel that night in Beauregard’s taxi, with Fozzie and Beau himself (who was not behind the wheel at the time). They were able to explain to the police what happened to Lori’s Porsche and were assured that it will be recovered (and repaired), along with the ones who had stolen it. No one appreciated having their own car stolen right in front of them, especially Lori. When it came to that Porsche of hers, anyone who dared him or herself to steal it would just make things personal.

Upon entering the Hotel, the four were greeted by Stanley, who had been sitting in the living room with Edward and playing a video game on the Playstation 3 game system that was given to him last Christmas. Sean barely even noticed him as he walked in with Fozzie, Beau, and his sister. “Cousin Sean! Cousin Alissa! I got a high score on ‘Kingdom Hearts: The Ultimate Alliance’!”

“That’s great, Stanley.” Sean unenthusiastically said, almost seeming to be ignoring his cousin, as he not once looked in his direction, but in that of Pops, the owner of the Happiness Hotel. “Hey, Pops. Have Kermit and Gonzo made it back here?”

“Who’re Kermit and Gonzo?” The forgetful Pops asked. “As a matter of fact, who in the heck are ya people? I don’t remember checkin’ ya into this hotel! How are you fixin’ to pay? Ya have three choices…A) Credit Card, B) Cash, or C) Sneak out in the middle…”

Sean just rolled his eyes in exasperation, finding it utterly useless to get a straight answer out of the old Muppet. From inside the living room, Edward sat in a comfortable if not ragged chair and chuckled as he listened in on the conversation between Pops and Sean. “They’re at Pete’s Diner.” He finally answered to Sean’s question. “Ronnie and Jenny stopped by earlier to announce that they’re engaged to be married, and Kermit & Gonzo thought best to have dinner with them tonight over there.”

Lori and Fozzie smiled blissfully over the news. “Ronnie and Jenny are getting married? That’s marvelous!” Lori happily exclaimed.

“Yeah! I wonder what day they decided to walk up to the altar.” Fozzie said, but before anyone who was more alert of the wedding plans could answer the bear’s question, Sean (who didn’t seem too ecstatic over the news) intervened with another question.

“So are they over there right now?” Sean asked Edward.

Edward could detect the lack of enthusiasm in Sean’s voice and couldn’t help but to feel like there were more important matters to him than Ronnie and Jenny’s engagement. “Yeah, they’re there. They wanted me to tell you that you can meet them there anytime until twelve o’clock.” Sean looked down at his watch and noticed that it was only ten minutes to eleven—plenty of time to rush over there and update Kermit and Gonzo on their investigation earlier. “What’s going on? Did you find out what it was that interrupted the celebration today?” Edward asked.

“With all due respect, Ed, that’s business for only us reporters to deal with.” Sean answered in a snooty tone that didn’t go too well with his sister.

She shot him a dirty look as she said, “Now just a minute! Ed has every right to know about this more than we do! In fact, I believe his scientific knowledge can even assist us.”

“Lori, my friend, Curt Connors, can help us on this situation.” Sean contradicted. “He’s more of a biologist than Edward. Older and more experienced, if I might add.”

“SEAN!” Lori bellowed through gritted teeth.

Edward just dismissed Sean’s judgmental comments with a chuckle. “It’s okay, Alissa. It’s actually a compliment. Now I know that I’m not that old.” Lori, Fozzie, and Stanley laughed over Edward’s comeback, which was how Sean (the only one who wasn’t laughing) took it. It was insulting not just to him, but to Curt Connors as well.

“Good one, Ed!” Fozzie exclaimed. “Wocka, Wocka, Wocka!”

Instead of sticking around to be further humiliated by the overconfident and sarcastic foreign scientist, Sean made his way back towards the front door. Seeing his cousin on his way out, Stanley quickly took advantage of the opportunity to go out for an enjoyable late night ride. He had never been out that late in his life and wanted to finally experience to joy of it. “Cousin Sean! Can I come with you to Pete’s Diner?”

“NO!” Sean answered in such a gruff tone that not only scared Stanley but Lori, Fozzie, and Edward as well, halting their laughter. It wasn’t his intention to yell at his cousin in such a way (he never yelled at him like that before nor yelled at him at all). If Stanley only had an idea of the chaos that Sean and Lori used to go through in Manhattan before he arrived, he would have understood why Sean was so grumpy at that time. But he didn’t, which was why he ran out of the foyer and upstairs to his room, crying as he had done so.

Sean sighed in disappointment over himself, while Fozzie and Edward were looking very concerned over Stanley, and Lori was looking very upset over Sean’s attitude. Meanwhile, Pops had watched Stanley run upstairs and afterwards turned to the group and asked, “Now whose child is that? I’m runnin’ a hotel here! Not a daycare center!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

On the way to Pete’s Diner in Beauregard’s taxi, barely a word was spoken between the three passengers: Fozzie, Sean, and Lori. The silence was uncomfortable, especially for Fozzie, who was always used to talking amongst friends for hours. He sat in the backseat of the taxi, while the siblings sat in the front (Sean was the one sitting behind the wheel of the car). But soon the silence was broken when Fozzie began sneezing from the dust collected in the taxi. Of course Lori was the one to tell him “Bless you,” because it was in her nature. Though when Sean started sneezing, Fozzie had to be the one to tell him “Bless you,” because Lori didn’t feel it was necessary for her to tell him that. But once she started sneezing, Sean was left to tell her.

This rhythm continued the rest of the way to Pete’s, completing twenty-seven sneezes and twenty-seven “Bless you” remarks. The three began to find it just as irritating as the silence and wondered why Beau had refused to clean his cab so often. Then it dawned upon them that it wasn’t that he had refused to do it, but that he was too dimwitted to figure out how exactly it should be clean. Fozzie made a mental note to himself as a reminder to teach Beauregard just how a taxicab should be properly cleansed.

As soon as they had arrived at Pete’s Diner, they noticed the Electric Mayhem bus parked right in front of it, signifying that Kermit and Gonzo were indeed there at the time. After parking right behind it, they got out of the taxicab and approached the entrance. They entered to the roaring sound of cheers from all of the rat employees (including Rizzo) and some of the stars of Manhattan Melodies II (from Bill, Gil, and Jill Frog of the “Mad Ave Advertising” agency to Beth Bear from the caverns that Fozzie once hibernated in further up north). Pete was standing near the front counter with Kermit, Gonzo, and Rizzo by his side, lifting a glass of wine high into the air.

“Is the best day of my life.” Pete said with a big smile. “My daughter marries. She marries…I can say that with big smile and not great fear.” There were a few chuckles in the large crowd inside the diner. “Jenny marries not just any regular man. She marries the greatest producer in all of New York…Ronnie Crawford.” Applause rang throughout the crowd over Ronnie’s name. All of them owed the once-aspiring Broadway producer a great deal for turning them all into superstars. “Is no man as great as that boy. And I would not be a humble man if I did not say that I am proud to be his best man at their wedding.”

While Pete had been addressing the two soon-to-be newlyweds, Sean and Lori both noticed how neither Jenny nor Ronnie were present at the time. They assumed that they were somewhere in the kitchen area, which was where they hoped they could’ve pulled Gonzo and Kermit aside to and talk about their investigation along with Fozzie. The siblings knew they had to go further than that, possibly in the alleyway beyond the kitchen. The real task, however, was getting Kermit and Gonzo away from Pete’s side long enough to do so.

“Here, here!” Gonzo and Rizzo exclaimed, raising their glasses in the air.

“May Jenny and Ronnie have a marvelous wedding!” Kermit added, raising his glass as well, before everyone in the diner had done the same and cheered.

Rowlf the Dog, who was also there for the celebration, was sitting by a large brown piano that he immediately turned to after the toast was given and began playing a familiar song. He then began singing the lyrics to it, “Somebody’s getting married! Somebody’s getting married! Somebody’s getting…Somebody’s getting…Somebody’s getting…somebody…somebody…somebody…somebody…”

Kermit and Gonzo then joined in together, singing, “Somebody get some flowers! Somebody get a ring! Somebody get a chapel and choir to sing!”

“Somebody get an organ to play!” Kermit sang in solo. “Cause somebody’s getting married today!”

Though it was the perfect song to sing for such an occasion, Sean knew in his conscience that now wasn’t the time to celebrate. There was a serious matter happening now as they spoke, and it needed to be taken care of immediately. He was about to step in and intervene in the musical number, until Fozzie stepped in the way of his path and started singing himself. “Somebody get a preacher! Somebody bake a cake! Somebody get some shoes and rice and presents to take!”

“Somebody get a sweet negilee!” Miss Piggy sang in solo. “Cause somebody’s getting married today!”

Kermit and Gonzo then moved in to sing opposite of Piggy and Janice. “Somebody get champagne! Somebody rent a room!”

“Somebody get the lovely bride! And somebody get the groom!”

“Somebody get this wedding underway!” Everyone sang in harmony. “Cause somebody’s getting married today!”

The patrons and employees then commenced in dancing along to the beat of the song, as Rowlf was playing it over the piano. Sean took advantage of the musical interlude and walked through the crowd along with Lori, heading towards a celebrating Kermit and Gonzo, as they were dancing with Piggy and Camilla. As soon as they were near them, they both pulled them away from their dance partners without hesitation, leaving Piggy and Camilla feeling a bit cheated. It wasn’t long before Fozzie was yanked away from his own dance partner, who turned out to be Janice, and brought into the kitchen area with Kermit and Gonzo.

“Hey! What’s this all about?” Kermit asked. “Haven’t you heard? Somebody’s getting married.”

“Yeah, but not today.” Lori remarked in a joking manner.

Sean, on the other hand, sounded strictly serious as he said, “We have to talk to you, Kermit. It’s about…” He suddenly stopped talking upon entering the kitchen and seeing Ronnie and Jenny standing in the middle of it. But it wasn’t just the fact that Ronnie and Jenny were there in the room that kept Sean from finishing his statement. It was the outfit that Jenny was wearing that moment, which was a black skin-tight latex catsuit, complete with black boots that had white “fur” sprouting from the sides of them and black gloves of the same fashion. Even for a decent young woman like Jenny, the outfit was extremely distracting and provocative, and that was most notable by the plunging v-neck that exposed her cleavage.

“****!” Lori exclaimed. “Ten minutes into the engagement, and they’re already getting freaky!”

Jenny gave Lori a dirty look before explaining herself to the stunned Sean, Kermit, Fozzie, Gonzo, and Lori. “They sent me the wrong costume! I specifically ordered a golden tuxedo for Kermit to wear in the closing number for our final performance, and they send me this…this garbage instead!” She sounded very stressful while looking down at herself and feeling disgusted about herself. “What am I going to do?”

“Jen, Jen…don’t worry about it.” Ronnie calmly said. “We’ll take it back to Lady Holiday’s Designing Inc. and simply say that there was a mistake. And I’m sure they’ll send us the tuxedo.”

“Lady Holiday’s Designing Inc. can’t afford to make mistakes like this, Ronnie.” Jenny contradicted. “If they did, then it’d mean going out of business for them. And—not to sound selfish—we can’t have one of our financers going out of business right now. Not when we’re so close to our final performance.”

Seeing how Jenny looked in the catsuit, Lori couldn’t help but to sense that the clean-living young lady was feeling a bit comfortable in it. “Uh, Jenny? If the suit is such a problem for you, how come you’re wearing it?”

Jenny knew that Lori asked a good question…one that she couldn’t give a reasonable answer to, mostly because she didn’t have one. The moment she opened that box and spotted the scanty outfit in place of the glamorous one that she personally designed for Kermit upon his request, she seemed more intrigued than she was disappointed. At first she felt like she was only pretending to hate it, but then it occurred to her that two conflicting sides of her (the decent, clean-minded side and the wild, fun-loving side) had different points of view on it.

“I…don’t know.” That was Jenny only reply to Lori’s question. “But it’s not going to be staying here any longer. First thing tomorrow I’m taking it back.” She then focused on Kermit, who felt a little uncomfortable looking her way while she was in the catsuit, knowing that Piggy was right in the next room. “I’m sorry, Kermit. I’m going to make it up to you.”

“It’s not a problem, Jenny.” Kermit said while looking down at the floor. “But I better get out of here before it becomes one with Piggy.” And without saying another word, he exited the kitchen with Sean, Lori, Gonzo, and Fozzie, heading out through the back door and into the alleyway outside, which was dark from the night atmosphere, wet from a recent rainstorm, and foul-smelling from all the garbage that Pete dumped into the cans there. But it was sanctioned enough for the group to have their secret discussion. “I don’t have to guess from the way you rushed us out of there that this has something to do with the sandstorm we noticed earlier.”

Sean took a deep breath before he began the conversation with a simple question. “You remember yesterday when we saw Rachel and a man we believed was your old nemesis, Nicky Holiday?”

“How could we forget?” Gonzo asked. “That was the biggest shocker of the day…well, that and the loose cables in my soup that I thought were noodles.”

Kermit looked oddly at Gonzo and then turned back to Sean, nodding in response to his question. Sean had then said, “Well…we might have concrete evidence to prove that it might’ve in fact been Nicky Holiday there in the penthouse.” Neither Kermit nor Gonzo seemed too surprised by that. Sean, Lori, and Fozzie didn’t really expect them to be, sensing that they had an idea of it long before their encounter with Holiday and his partners during the chase.

“So Holiday’s connected to this sand thing that we saw at the celebration.” Kermit stated. “But what’s the connection between him, Rachel Bitterman, and Harry Osborn?”

Lori shrugged her shoulders. “That’s what we’re stumped on right now.”

“What’s even more confusing is the fact that he had Shego, Kim Possible’s worst enemy, with him at the time.” Fozzie added. “I would’ve thought she would go solo after things blew up in her face with that Drakken character.”

Sean quickly and carefully began to ponder the situation, trying his best to put two and two together. “Shego was serving time at the same prison that Nicky Holiday had been sentenced to. They must’ve formed some type of plan to help their escape, and once they were out, the plan went further when they got themselves involved with Bitterman. She must be offering them something pretty marvelous in exchange for their services.”

“But what is it? And for what reason?” Lori asked.

“Well, I don’t know what it is,” Kermit said, “But I do know that they might plan to use it to destroy all of us for putting them away so long ago.”

Gonzo’s focus was still on the sandstorm that he and the others witnessed earlier. “I bet that sandstorm might be what they tried to take us out with. They must have some kind of weather machine.”

“I don’t think so, Gonzo.” Fozzie said. “Believe it or not, but Beau and I saw what that sandstorm really is. It’s a man…a big, scary man.”

“A man made out of sand?” Kermit remarked, finding the notion slightly hard to comprehend. “Don’t tell me we’re getting ourselves involved with another crazy, super-powered villain again! I’ve had enough with the two Green Goblins, Magneto, Dr. Doom, and Dr. Octopus already!”

“It may seem that way, Kermit.” Sean said.

The conversation was suddenly interrupted just as the back door to Pete’s Diner opened and Pete stepped out, nearly tripping over his own feet as he looked back to see what his daughter was wearing at the time. He was able to move his gaze away from her long enough to focus on the group standing outside and inform them. “Excuse me, but…uh…there is someone calling for you.”

“Who?” Kermit asked him.

“Who? I don’t know.” Pete replied. “All of you.”

Not really understanding Pete’s reply too well, the group just allowed Sean to be the one who answered the call. With the others following him, Sean rushed back into the diner, heading into the kitchen where Jenny and Ronnie were still talking about the catsuit that she was wearing. He then moved back into the waiting area, where everyone was still singing and dancing in celebration. Pete, who walked in afterwards, soon silenced them by saying, “Quiet! Quiet! Is important call we’ve got here!”

As soon as the room quieted down, Sean had asked over the phone, “Hello?”

“Mr. Thomas,” came a gravelly male voice from the other end that sounded highly familiar to Sean. “Don’t know if you remember me or not. It’s Captain Larkin…Jerry Larkin. We worked together years ago on the case of the carjacker that died at the factory with all of those web strands that’re probably gone by now.” Sean did recognize the voice, but didn’t really smile as he listened to it. Last time he encountered Larkin, he was on his way to lunch after dropping a case that might’ve proven to be extremely important.

“Yeah, I remember you, Larkin.” Sean stated, and he could hear Lori scoffing behind him after he uttered the captain’s name. “What’s up?”

Larkin cleared his throat before he said, “I’m calling on behalf of Captain Stacy from the Thirty-second Precinct. He’d like you, your sister, Kermit the Frog, Gonzo the Great, and Fozzie Bear to come down to the station to speak with him. Your friend, Peter Parker, and his aunt are on their way with a couple of others who were involved in the other crime that occurred that evening—the one that led to the death of the carjacker.”

“You mean the homicide of Ben Parker?” Sean inquired. “What about it?”

“We’ve got some new information. And I personally think you’ll find it very interesting.”

Sean had always thought it looked odd or unrealistic in the movies when someone stared at a phone in his or her hand upon the receipt of shocking news. His real-life reaction, though, was nothing short of Oscar-worthy, as he stared stupidly at the plastic receiver, his mind reeling, his body paralyzed. He could only imagine what was going through Peter’s mind when he received the call.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

It seemed to Sean, Lori, Kermit, Fozzie, and Gonzo that every time they met with Captain Larkin it was always under terrible circumstances. But that was to be expected from a member of the NYPD. Besides, it wasn’t like they had good relations with Larkin in the past. During the investigation of the death of the same carjacker that supposedly killed Ben Parker, the captain had dismissed every bit of evidence that had pointed to the person possibly responsible for the death, who turned out to be none other than Peter Parker (a.k.a. “Spider-Man”). Luckily for Peter and his immense reputation as the city’s greatest hero, Larkin ignored the crime and the one that occurred before it, storing it in police records as “unsolved”…at least, until that very night when new evidence came up.

The Thomas siblings and the three Muppets arrived at the police station to be greeted by Captain Larkin himself. “Well, well…if it isn’t my old friends from The Daily Bugle!” he said, sounding sarcastic at the same time he was happy.

“Captain Larkin,” Sean said, extending his hand for him to shake it. “It wouldn’t be gentlemanly of me to say that it’s not a pleasure seeing you again.”

Larkin smiled. “I must admit, Mr. Thomas, that I’ve always enjoyed your company on such occasions like this.” He then looked in Lori’s direction, with his smile quickly fading, and whispered to Sean, “I wish I can say the same for your sister though.” She heard exactly what he said, despite how low his voice was as he said it, and seemed to have expected it. Larkin then said in a higher tone, “Miss Thomas…how have you been these past few years?”

“Oh, same old, same old.” Lori responded. “How ‘bout you? Eaten any good doughnuts lately?” Larkin gave her that same cold, hard stare that he thought intimidated people but only made them more sarcastic, just like Lori was. “Oh, wait. No…you’re more of a strudel man, aren’t you? ‘Cause we all know how much you love…”

“Captain Stacy and Officer Valerosa is waiting for us in the conference room with the Parkers and a couple of your friends from the Happiness Hotel.” Larkin quickly said, not giving Lori the satisfaction of finishing her witty comment. “I suggest we join them immediately to discuss the new evidence we’ve uncovered.”

Lori chuckled as she said, “Speaking of covers…”

“Lori!” Sean bellowed.

She kept herself silent long enough for the six of them to walk reverently into the small conference room, where Captain Stacy was waiting for them. Peter Parker was also there with his aunt May. He had been convinced that the next time he saw May Parker, it was going to be with Mary Jane at his side, and M.J. would be showing the ring that May had given him sparkling on her finger; in that way he’d finally be responsible for bringing some joy into May Parker’s life. Instead old heartaches were being resurrected as Peter and Aunt May sat there, awaiting new information on the murder of their uncle and husband.

It was a little surprising to see Frankie Foster and Mac from Foster’s Home For Imaginary Friends there, seeing as how they were not anywhere present at the time of Ben Parker’s death or the death of his carjacking murderer near the Hudson River. Or, at least, so everyone in the room was led to believe. At the moment they entered the room, the Thomas siblings and the three Muppets were under the impression that the two friends from Foster’s came to visit their old friend Nina at the wrong time. But if that were the case, why wasn’t her imaginary friend, Eduardo, there with Frankie and Mac?

As soon as everyone was settled in, Lori made an attempt to ask Peter how his dinner with Mary Jane went, but Peter refused to give her an answer. His refusal only told her that things didn’t go so well, possibly because the subject of him kissing Gwen Stacy as Spider-Man must’ve been the main focus of the evening. And Lori decided upon herself that it wasn’t best to bring it up at a time when another matter—which was a thousand times more important—was at hand.

Captain Stacy began discussing the subject by saying, “Originally we thought that this man”—Stacy slid a mug shot across the table—“Dennis Caradine, was Ben Parker’s killer. We were wrong.”

“What?” Everyone said in unison, not understanding.

Kermit and Peter peered over at the photograph and both recognized the man in the mug shot instantly as the man whom Peter had originally let past him at the wrestling arena and confronted at the warehouse, and the man whom Kermit and his friends watched die there. It was the right man. But was it that he was using an alias? That his name wasn’t really “Dennis Caradine”?

“It turns out that Caradine was only the accomplice,” Captain Stacy told them. “The actual killer is still at large.”

Everyone gasped in shock as Lori said, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“What are you talking about?” Peter demanded, and promptly tried to rein himself in, not wanting to sound too aggressive.

“This”—Stacy pulled out a second picture—“is the man who killed Benjamin Parker.” He placed it between Peter and Aunt May, and Peter, the Thomas siblings, and the three Muppets fully expected it to be the face of a total stranger. Of course, it was to Sean, Lori, Kermit, and Gonzo. But to Peter and Fozzie, the Sandman stared out at them.

“Hey! That’s him!” Fozzie exclaimed. “That’s the guy who we saw earlier in the armored truck, helping out Nicky Holiday! He’s the sandstorm guy!”

Captain Larkin stepped up and addressed the group. “His name is Flint Marko. He’s a small-time crook who’s been in and out of prison. Two days ago, he escaped with Holiday, his former model accomplices (Marla, Darla, and Carla), and former ‘Team Go’ teammate, Shego. Evidently he confessed his guilt to a cellmate, which must’ve spread out to Holiday and his friends and urged them to form an alliance in order to escape. And,” he gestured towards Mac and Frankie, “we have two witnesses here who will corroborate his story.”

Lori nodded at Mac and Frankie before turning back to Larkin with that familiar look of sarcasm on her face. “So…I bet you feel like a real idiot right now, chasing after the wrong culprit who you thought was killed by a ‘statue’.”

Both Stacy and Nina looked questionably in Larkin’s direction, and the police captain, detecting their looks, quickly defended himself. “It was a hunch! Besides, none of us knew at the time that there was more than one guy at the scene of the crime.”

“Uh…we did.” Mac spoke up.

Sean found enough curiosity in him to ask, “How did you two come across that crime scene without being caught or killed yourselves?”

“Luck, I guess.” Frankie replied. “Or…being in a good hiding place like the Foster’s bus.”

Mac then added, “We got a good look at least three people at the scene: Flint Marko, Dennis Caradine, and some guy wearing a black mask…a ski mask, to be exact.”

“There were no leads on the man in the mask. No name, no age, no height, no weight…nothing.” Nina stated. “Whoever he was, it was possible that he was the ringleader of the trio, having Marko and Caradine do his dirty work for him.”

Frankie seemed slightly more uncomfortable than Mac appeared to have been as she discussed the subject further. “Real aggressive fella, too. He threatened to kill Marko and the other guy if they didn’t do what he demanded for them to do.”

“So you’re saying Marko might’ve been provoked into killing Ben Parker?” Kermit asked.

“Possibly.” Larkin replied. “You can never really tell with his type. The punk might’ve taken pleasure in killing the man, provoked or not.”

Peter was rocked back in his chair. A deep pounding pulsed in his temples, and he didn’t even hear Aunt May asking, “Would you mind taking these photographs away please?” Instead his mind was whirling with this new information that knocked the props out from under his entire belief system.

For so long…for so much time…I’ve been beating myself up, telling myself that I could have stopped the criminal who killed Uncle Ben. That if I had, Uncle Ben might still be alive. And instead…

He conjured up a mental picture of Flint Marko walking up to Uncle Ben and ruthlessly blowing him away, while the “man in the black mask” was laughing maniacally in the background. Whatever had happened to Marko to transform him into Sandman, it must have been since that night. Recently, in fact, otherwise they’d never have been able to hold him in the first place.

On some level, there should have been relief—a massive burden of guilt should have been lifted. He’d never encountered Flint Marko before and thus couldn’t possibly have caused Uncle Ben’s death, through inaction or any other action.

Instead…instead a deep, dark ball of fury began to build within Peter.

Uncle Ben was doomed from the start? Nothing I could have done that evening would have had the slightest impact on how things turned out?

At least when he had believed himself directly responsible, he felt—strangely enough—as if he had some control over his life. But now he was learning that he’d never had any control at all.

Uncle Ben never had a chance.

Everything that Peter had done in the past two years to atone for his great sin was simply an endless pursuit in the face of an existence that had suddenly become terribly, even blindingly unfair.

Useless…all of it useless…bad enough I can never bring Uncle Ben back no matter how much I do, but now I could never have saved him in the first place! With great power comes great responsibility? And what if I had no power, huh? That evening, despite all my abilities, I couldn’t have done a thing to prevent Ben’s being shot and killed. So with no power comes…what? No responsibility? I should be able to do whatever I want…

And right then, what Peter Parker wanted more than anything was to get his hands around Flint Marko’s throat. If not his, then maybe someone else’s…like Nicky Holiday. Yeah. Maybe he was the “man in the black mask.” If that was the case, then he could kill two birds with one stone. Flesh and blood…sand…it made no difference. He wanted to find them and kill them with his bare hands, no matter what it took.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Parker,” Captain Stacy was saying, removing the photographs. “I know this isn’t easy, but please be patient.”

Larkin then confidently added, “Yeah, Mrs. Parker. We’re doing our job. We’ll catch him and everyone else who’s involved.”

Hearing what Larkin had just said, Lori could not just sit back and not make a witty remark to a man who claimed that something made out of clay had killed a human being. But Peter, who—seething with barely contained rage—robbed her of that opportunity by saying between clenched teeth, “I don’t think you’re doing your job.”

Larkin was a little surprised to see someone much younger than Lori talking back to him. “Excuse me?”

“I watched my uncle die, and we went after the wrong man. And now you’re saying”—his voice began to rise in pitch and volume, more than Lori’s ever could—“you had suspicions for two years?” He then gestured to Mac and Frankie, who were already shaken up before Peter began screaming. “Witnesses? Why weren’t we told about that?”

“Peter, calm down.” Sean pleaded, seeing how worried everyone else in the room was looking, especially May.

Peter stood, bubbling over with fury. “I’ve no intention of calming down, Sean! This man”—he pointed at the back of the photo—“and some other sick, demented punk killed my uncle, and they’re still out there!”

He headed for the door, ignoring Aunt May’s cry of “Peter!” and Captain Stacy’s additional plea to calm down and take a seat. The only thing he was hearing was the pounding in his head that urged him to get out there, to find Flint Marko and Nicky Holiday, to avenge the death of his uncle.

A vengeance that had waited far too long.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about whatever he’s feeling.” Fozzie nervously said.

Kermit was sharing the same nervousness with the bear. “Me, too. We’d better go after him, before he does anything foolish.”

“Good idea.” Gonzo acknowledged.

While the three Muppets were heading out of the room, Larkin didn’t hesitate to give out his personal thoughts on Peter’s reaction to the new information they discovered. “I tell ya, kids these days. They think violence is always the answer. I blame television for that kid’s attitude.”

Lori had just about had it with Larkin’s clueless behavior, looking his way with an annoyed look on her face and saying, “And I blame the time you spend around prison for your ‘serious problem’.” Even though no one else in that room had any idea what she meant by that, Larkin very much did and looked very sheepish after she said it, with his face turning red. “Say hello to ‘Bubba’ when you see him again, weirdo.”

Even as Sean and Lori walked out of the conference room, everyone else looked puzzlingly at Larkin, who began straightening the necktie of his uniform with quivering lips and shaky hands. “I…uh…think I’m gonna go call my…wife…now.”

END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN​

 

[JEANYLASER]

i love it!

 

[muppetwriter]

Thanks, Jeany. I can't wait to write the next chapter, which includes the big plot twist of the story.

 

[JEANYLASER]

Ok! i just wait.

 

[The Count]

*Blown away by the grandness of the new information... Ronnie and Jenny's wedding... See, I knew that's a cameo we'd get to sooner or later in this meowvelous tale. And the conference at the police station... Oh please Sean, post more!

 

[JEANYLASER]

Yeah me too!

 

[muppetwriter]

Don't adjust the color scheme on your computer screens. The words are supposed to change color in this next chapter and onward.

Chapter Twelve​

Harry’s penthouse was starting to become the safest place in the world for Nicky Holiday, Shego, and the Holiday’s former model associates, as they returned to it after what seemed like several hours of searching and trying to retrieve Flint Marko. It was the last place where anyone, even the police, would expect them to be. And even though a few outsiders like Kermit, Fozzie, Gonzo, Rizzo, Jenny, Peter Parker, and the Thomas siblings knew that Holiday was there, what did it matter? He was supposed to be some typical guy named Quentin Fitzwaller, who—luckily for him—looked exactly like him. There was no doubt that the next days, weeks, and (possibly) years would be smooth sailing for him and the girls. That was, if Rachel Bitterman would do one huge favor for them.

When they all arrived at the penthouse floor, a clearly distraught Rachel Bitterman greeted them, carrying what looked to be a golden tuxedo that was fitted especially for a small person (evidently a Muppet). “Could someone please tell me what the h*ll this is?”

She tossed the tuxedo over to Holiday, who gazed at it puzzlingly before tossing it back to Rachel and saying, “I dunno. A gift from above by Hervé Villechaize?” He then proceeded to say, in a more serious tone, “Who gives a crap? We need those weapons that you promised us, right now!”

Rachel nodded in mock understanding. “Uh-huh. Were you able to get the Sandman to come back here with you?”

“He has a name, you know.” Shego told her with an irritated tone. “It’s Flint…”

“No, we didn’t bring him back!” Holiday interjected. “He decided it was best to double-cross us and leave us to get our butts handed to us by Spider-Man and his ‘Web of Idiots’ while he made off with some money from the First National Bank.”

Shego never appreciated being interrupted by anyone—it reminded her too much of the days she spent around Dr. Drakken. And she didn’t hesitate to let that be know to the annoying characters around her, as she addressed them with hastiness. “Look! He’s just trying to get some help for his sick daughter. That’s all! Why don’t we cut him a break and worry about our own necks?”

“My thoughts exactly.” Holiday unexpectedly agreed. “Marko’s got what he wants. Now it’s about time we had.”

Rachel gawked at Holiday and the girls for a long moment, pondering over her decision to loan the two new inventive weapons that Krassman had developed only a few days ago for her. Though they hadn’t been thoroughly tested yet, they were fully completed and ready to be worn by willing subjects. And the only subjects that seemed to be willing enough to try them out were Nicky Holiday and Darla. But she would rather it just be Holiday, seeing as how she had grown quite fond of him ever since he threatened to kill her back at the testing facility.

Deciding that it would undoubtedly please Holiday to know that all four of his “gal pals” were super-powered vixens, she finally said, “Fine. I don’t need Marko anyways. He can be happy as long as he wants with his ‘funny money’.”

Holiday and the girls would be lying if they admitted to not being interested in what Bitterman meant by mentioning “funny money” in her comment. “What’re you talking about?” Shego asked her.

“The First National Bank just happens to be one of the four banks that I own in this city that contain money faker than what you would find in a Monopoly board game.” Bitterman replied. “What Marko stole from that armored truck couldn’t even get him tickets to a Backstreet Boys reunion concert!”

Watching Bitterman chuckle over her own B.S. made Shego pretty upset, as she thought about Marko taking that fake money to the medical research facility on Twenty-seventh and Park Avenue and trying to convince the doctor to get his ailing daughter cured. She didn’t hesitate to tell Bitterman, “You are absolutely insane. You know that?”

“That’s what my payers keep telling me.” Rachel simply remarked, and after one last chuckle, she led everyone into the main salon, where a large, formal portrait painting of Norman Osborn (Bitterman’s legal brother) hung on the wall. It was such a creepy portrait to Holiday and the girls that they wondered if Norman’s gaze followed them around no matter where they stood in the room. After staring back at Norman for a while (as if expecting the real thing to peel himself off the painting), she removed the painting from the wall and revealed a small metallic door with a keyhole.

Now that’s impressive, Holiday thought, as he watched Rachel take out a set of keys wrapped around a small key chain. She picked the slightly brightest key on the chain, which was plated with a fading golden color, and inserted it into the keyhole. Once the lock had been opened, Rachel opened the door and uncovered a small control panel that was beneath it. The sight was enough to have Holiday and the girls consider the fact that Bitterman might’ve not been completely insane.

With the press of a few buttons and flip of a couple of switches, the mirror that hung right next to Norman’s portrait had slid open to the right, revealing the Goblin’s secret lair. Holiday and the girls stepped into the room, surprised by the arsenal of state-of-the-art weaponry that was stashed up in it, from Harry’s new Sky Stick to ten green mechanical tridents that contained different functions like conducting five thousand volts of electricity or spitting deadly acid.

But the two things that stood out from the room the most and soon caught the attention of Holiday and the girls were the two suits hanging on the wall opposite of the one that had a shelf lined with pumpkin bombs standing there. One suit was a blue and green armored one that bore a resemblance to a scorpion (which was noticeable through a cybernetic, seven-foot mechanical tail attached to it), while the other contained a pair of gauntlets that—when activated by a thumb trigger—can project a concentrated blast of air that vibrated at an intense frequency and a costume consisting largely of yellow quilt patches designed to absorb the shock. Even for already super-powered characters like Shego, Marla, and Carla, the suits looked very impressive and just the right thing to overpower their adversaries.

“Welcome to the 21st century, friends.” Bitterman said with a sinister smile, as the mouths of Nicky Holiday and Darla were actually salivating with joy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Peter Parker looked out at the night sky through the window of his small apartment. The scratchy voice on his police scanner barked out announcements, except Peter had changed the frequency. No longer was he just attending to the major emergency calls—now any summons, no matter how trivial, was coming through. The almost steady stream of chatter was overwhelming, but he didn’t want to take a chance that some seemingly insignificant problem—people experiencing a small sandstorm on a Coney Island beach, for instance—could slip past Peter when it might lead him to his prey.

Come on, you punks. Come on. Turn up. Give me something to go on. Make yourself known so I can find you and give you what’s coming to you.

“L20 Parkway, abandoned vehicle,” the scanner announced. “Elderly man in center of Wabash, sorry, Parkway Avenue…”

There was a knock at the door. “Who is it?” he called, not really interested.

“It’s your friends, Peter.” Sean said from the other side. “Can we come in and talk for a moment?”

Somehow, the sound of Sean’s voice wasn’t so soothing for Peter as he said, “Go away. I don’t need a pep talk from you right now.”

“Peter, please open up. We’re worried about you.”

That’s Mary Jane’s voice, he thought and heaved a sigh. Only the day before, he would have sprung across the apartment and thrown the door open, overjoyed to see her. Now, somehow, Mary Jane’s presence seemed irrelevant. He had matters of far greater concern on his mind. It was as if she belonged to a part of his life that—if he hadn’t left it behind—had at least become inconsequential.

Still, he couldn’t just leave her and the rest of his friends standing out in the hallway. He crossed to the door, opened it, and turned back to the police scanner.

“I’m sorry about what happened in the restaurant,” Mary Jane said, her hands fluttering slightly in agitation. Whether she was or not was of no great concern—the restaurant incident was a lifetime ago. “But Kermit called me, told me about this convict and what he did and Uncle Ben.”

“You guys worry too much,” Peter said curtly.

Kermit was about to reply, but the chatter of the scanner cut in. “Could you turn that down please?” he asked. He petulantly considered turning it up instead. The anger within him burned like fire, over Uncle Ben’s death, over the police department’s ineptness. He wanted to take it all out on someone, preferably Flint Marko and Nicky Holiday.

But Marko and Holiday weren’t there, and his friends were, and there was no reason to misplace his aggression on them just because they were trying to help…even though he didn’t need it. So he turned the police scanner down to a low murmur. Enough so that he could still pick out what was being said, but not so much that it drowned out what Kermit was saying to him.

“We’re hoping you won’t do something foolish,” he said.

“Like try to find my uncle’s killer…oh, wait…I’m sorry…killers? Why wouldn’t I?” He could understand that someone like Aunt May would be concerned about him. But why were Mary Jane, the Thomas siblings, Kermit, Fozzie, and Gonzo concerned? They, unlike May, knew Peter’s secret. They knew what he could do, and how he was more than capable of taking care of himself. Why were they coming here, acting so worried? Why weren’t they with Aunt May, assuring her that Peter was a grown man who could make intelligent and informed decisions, and she could rest easy?

Mary Jane’s hand hovered above his forearm as if she wanted to rest it upon it affectionately, but she withheld it. Instead her voice dropped to an understanding tone. “I know how that night has always been on your mind. You hunted down the wrong man, but you couldn’t have known when you pushed him that he wasn’t—”

He wasn’t the wrong man. He was a criminal and a thief, and if he didn’t kill Uncle Ben, there’s no saying that he wouldn’t have if given the opportunity, and there’s no telling whom else the creep did kill in his career that we’ll never even know about, and you weren’t there, M.J. You don’t know what happened, you don’t know what you’re talking about.

His jaw tight, he said, “He had a gun on me. I made a move. He fell. I didn’t push him.”

“She’s not accusing you of anything, Pete.” Lori interjected.

“I bet that Captain Larkin would, if he knew my secret.”

Lori made an agreeable look. “Yeah, can’t argue with you there.” She quickly shook the thought of the arrogant police captain off her mind and refocused on the subject at hand. “But we understand how you must feel.”

Do you, Miss Thomas? At least you all have living mothers and fathers. Mary Jane’s may be dysfunctional as h*ll, but she has them. As long as they’re alive, there’s hope that things can be straightened out, matters settled, closure made. How could any of you possibly understand?

“Pete, look…you don’t have to go out there alone.” Sean assured. “Kermit, Gonzo, and Fozzie have assembled their friends from the Happiness Hotel to go out and look for Nicky Holiday and his model accomplices. They’ve faced all of them before and know how to take him down. With you by their side to handle Marko, the ‘Web of Heroes’ team will be unstoppable.”

“Yeah.” Fozzie agreed. “Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable are going to join us to handle Shego, too.”

“It’s a foolproof plan, man.” Lori told Peter. “We’re all behind you…one hundred percent.”

Peter was currently seeing the world through a blinding wall of pain and anger, and his friends were simply throwing meaningless words and ideas to him from the other side of it. “I don’t need anybody’s help,” he said brusquely. “Thank you for coming.”

Neither of them could believe what he just said. Was the Amazing Spider-Man so vengeful that he chooses not to have assistance as he faces off against four petty crooks and two super-powered ones? A sigh of disappointment came over the group. Lori couldn’t help but to let out a sarcastic chuckle, as she repeated what Peter said in the second person, “You don’t need our help…” She casually dusted off the sleeves of her brown leather jacket, as if something were actually on them and looked in Peter’s direction with a glare in her eyes. “Alright, Pete. Fine. You win.” She began heading for the door, but quickly turned back around to face him to say one last thing. “But just know this, Peter Parker…we all need help sometimes. Even Spider-Man. This pride of his,” she emphasized, as if speaking about a different person altogether, “maybe even he’s not perfect.”

They all waited a moment for him to respond…but he didn’t.

The last thing Peter wanted to do was prolong their stay. They each nodded once, a silent acknowledgement of his wishes, then walked out the door. Fozzie was the last one out, and he closed the door softly behind him. Peter returned to the police scanner and turned it up louder than before, hoping that it would drown out the frustration that was roiling within him. Hoping that it would drown out the voices of his friends that were still echoing in his head.

He glanced at the clock: 8:45 p.m. What had Mary Jane been doing here with the Thomas siblings and the Muppets when she should have been onstage with the Muppets themselves? He brushed the thought from his mind and went back to listening to the reports.

Eventually tiring of doing nothing other than hunkering down next to the police radio, Peter pulled on his Spider-Man costume, ready to leap into action at a moment’s notice. With the mask in his hand, he looked out the window for what seemed the hundredth time that evening and muttered, “Where are you, Marko? Are you hiding, Holiday? I will find you two.”

He no longer gave any thought to his friends’ visit, never even considered picking up the phone and calling Aunt May to assuage her fears. Neither did he consider calling the Happiness Hotel to see if Kim, Ron, the Muppets, and the Thomas siblings had begun their search for Holiday and his vixens or succeeded in apprehending them, even with Marko at the scene.

Impossible, he thought. I don’t care what Kim’s name is. There is no way she or the Muppets could stop such a marvelous force. Maybe I should’ve taken them up on their plan. Lord knows what might happen to them.

With thoughts of his friends in imminent danger running through his mind, Peter could almost hear Fozzie’s disappointed voice in his head, saying, “Shammmmmmme on youuuuuuuuuu!”

He considered randomly swinging around the city, searching for Sandman and Holiday, hoping to stumble over them, but that was likely a waste of time. Waiting for a police summons to at least steer him in the right direction was clearly the more logical way to go. But logic didn’t do a ***** thing to satisfy his desire for action. He felt like a racehorse trapped behind a gate that refused to open.

More time passed, and Peter—tired of ineffectual pacing—laid down on the bed, continuing to listen to the scanner. With everything that was on his mind, one thing was for certain: no way he was going to fall asleep this night.

Naturally, within the hour, he was dead to the world.

The scanner crackled at him, “Car 604, domestic disturbance at 3415 Belmont…apartment B…woman caller is at knifepoint, hysterical…”

Deep in slumber, Peter was unaware of the thick black ooze that was separating itself from the shadows of his closet…and now slowly creeping toward him.

Instead he was in the grip of a nightmare, twitching in bed, groaning in mental pain. Twisting in his dream, he saw the criminal Dennis Caradine tripping over a pipe and falling to his death—except now Peter was there shoving him hard, grinning dementedly. He saw Sean and Lori looking up at him from below with Kermit, Fozzie, and Gonzo, standing in the midst of a crowd of police officers. One of the officers just happened to be Captain Larkin, viciously pointing up at Peter and barking an order.

“Arrest that freak…NOW!”

“No! Please! He’s just a kid!” Lori cried hysterically in his dream, while being held back by Sean. “HE’S JUST A KID!”

“How could you, Peter?” Kermit asked him with fear. “How could you just kill him like that?”

“He’s fallin’! He’s fallin’ deep!” Gonzo exclaimed. “And I’m not talkin’ about the carjacker either!”

“We thought you were one of the good guys!” Fozzie stated. “Shammmme on youuuuu! Shammmme on youuuuuu!”

That sure as heck wasn’t how it really went down…was it?

Uncle Ben’s murder scene flared up. Ben lying there, dead, eyes closed…Ben’s head snapping around, eyes opened…except there were no eyes, nothing but worms crawling out…Flint Marko walking past the macabre scene, whistling casually, innocent of suspicion. And there right next to him was “the man in the black mask,” as Mac had called him, laughing maniacally. He suddenly removed his mask, revealing the sadistic face of Nicky Holiday, still laughing.

It isn’t right…it isn’t fair…this shouldn’t have happened, I should be able to do something about it…you can…you can do whatever you want now…nothing can—

Peter’s mind recoiled against itself, bewildered and uncertain of what was happening. He was talking to himself, as if his mind had somehow split right down the middle. Even in his dream state, he wondered if he was somehow losing control of his entire Spider-Man persona. Ben was gone, the murder site was gone, Marko was gone, Holiday was gone, and instead the city spun dizzily beneath him, skyscrapers whipping past, the chill air permeating him, and he felt giddy, reveling in his power, enjoying it in a way not before experienced since it all began. It was all new and liberating, and he couldn’t understand why. He heard the distant sound of car horns honking, and sirens yowling, and suddenly he realized that the wind was all too real.

Caught in that twilight area between sleep and wakefulness, he fought his way back to consciousness. He should close the window since it was obviously getting way too drafty…

Peter opened his eyes, waking to see the world through the filter of his eyepieces, which meant that he had put on his mask. Oddly, he didn’t remember doing that.

And he was rocking slowly back and forth.

And he was upside down.

What am I…sleep web-slinging now?

Am I still asleep? No. Definitely not.

That thought lingered right up to the moment that he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirrored glass of a skyscraper.

Wrong. Still dreaming.

It was like watching an image on television, since it seemed to bear no resemblance to Spider-Man at all. Oh, there was Spider-Man all right, or the image of Spider-Man, hanging upside down on a web line—except his costume was no longer blue and red.

It was solid black.

The eyepieces—no longer white, but silvery—leaped out at him, a stark contrast against the ebony mask that he was now wearing. He could see the outlines of the web pattern against the black, also with that same silvery hue to them, along with his chest emblem.

It was an alien Spider-Man…a bizarre version.

Peter’s still fatigued mind processed that he wasn’t just watching a separate image. It was his own reflection. And if that wasn’t enough proof of it, perhaps the little Hawaiian girl that came up to the window as soon as the lights came on was. She instantly noticed Peter’s presence near the window and let out a frightened scream that even startled Peter.

“Whoa!” he shouted, before vaulting free of the web line and landing on the hotel building’s side.

Meanwhile, the little Hawaiian girl in the window was able to get past the shock of seeing the darkly clad Peter at her window and realize that she had just seen a more updated version of her favorite hero, Spider-Man. “Awesome!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Running away from the windowsill, Lilo headed out of the bedroom and into another portion of the hotel room that she, her sister (Nani), Pleakley, Jumba, and Stitch were currently staying in at the Tipton Hotel (Manhattan’s best and most recommended hotel suite in the city). She was overwhelmed with excitement as she entered the living room, where Nani was reading a brochure on the number one sites in New York City, Pleakley was watching a new reality show on television, Jumba was working on another one of his “evil” inventions, and Stitch eating some food out of the hotel suite refrigerator.

“You guys won’t believe who I just saw outside our bedroom window!” Lilo exclaimed, and neither of the members of her “ohana” bothered to guess, which left her to just come out and say it. “I saw Spider-Man!”

“Eh?” Stitch uttered, seeming to be the only interested one in the bunch, as Nani, Jumba, and Pleakley kept on with their activities.

Nani did, however, give a sarcastic reply. “Sure, Lilo. He just happened to have swung by the window in his big blue and red costume.”

“He did!” Lilo shouted, not appreciating her sarcasm all that much. “And he wasn’t wearing his blue and red costume! He was wearing a new one! A more upgraded one!”

Pleakley did show a bit of interest in the topic of fashion. “Really? What did it look like?”

“Just like his old costume, except it was black…totally black!” Lilo answered enthusiastically.

“A black-suited Spider-Man?” Pleakley said, taking a moment to ponder over the image. “Oh, I think he’d look way cooler in something other than black. Black just seems like the most morbid color in the world…even on hair!”

Both Nani and Lilo took an offense to that remark from Pleakley. “Hey, our hair is black!” Nani exclaimed.

Once Pleakley realized that, he quickly recovered from his statement. “I mean…uh…present company excepted, of course.”

Ignoring Pleakley, Nani returned her focus back on Lilo, who was still brimming with excitement over what she had just seen. “Lilo, I know New York City is a marvelous place to visit and has some much background to it. But you’re gonna have to learn while we’re here that some things are just a little impossible to comprehend. Things aren’t always what they seem.”

Before Lilo could’ve retorted to Nani’s comment, the door to their hotel suite had suddenly came down under the mighty blow of the “really big gun” that was being carried by none other than Ed Singer, who used it to bash his way inside. Lilo, Nani, Pleakley, and Jumba jumped in surprise over the sudden appearance of Ed Singer and his C.O.V.N.E.T. partners (Ryan, Rentro, Clyde, and Butch) as they walked their way in, carrying different types of weapons and other equipment. Stitch began to growl at them and then attempted to lunge at them with great speed and agility, until Ed had fired his gun at him, unleashing an electric-powered net that had pinned Stitch to the floor.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Nani exclaimed. “What gives you people the right to invade on our privacy like this?” Ed was barely paying any attention to Nani, as he began scanning the entire room with the tracking device that was attached to his gun. Nani had noticed the way each of the men were dressed and couldn’t help but to think of someone else that had shared the same fashion. “Did Cobra Bubbles send you guys or something?”

The mentioning of that name nearly had Ed seething more than whenever he heard the name of Max Tennyson. It was another character from his past that he now considered to be a traitor and a great threat to everything the C.O.V.N.E.T. organization stood for. Instead of letting his anger get the best of him, he just continued on with his scanning, finding no readings in the room they were in, but definitely some in the one below them.

“It’s moved!” Ed shouted to Ryan, Rentro, Clyde, and Butch. “The symbiote is now one floor below us!”

Hearing the name of the substance that the C.O.V.N.E.T. agents had been searching for brought back memories for Jumba. And they were not pleasant memories, even for an “evil genius” like himself. “Did crazy, overweight bald man just say something about a symbiote?”

“Mind your own business!” Ryan told Jumba. “This is a governmental matter! You people just go back to sitting on your butts and doing absolutely nothing like good hippies!” It wasn’t long before Ryan and the rest of the C.O.V.N.E.T. agents had left the room, leaving the family from Hawaii feeling very confused.

“Hippies?” Pleakley remarked. “Should I find a better wig to wear?”

While Lilo was trying her best to free Stitch from the electrical net that was pinning him to the carpeted floor, she noticed how much more worried Jumba looked than the others after hearing what Ed said. “What was that crazy guy talking about, Jumba?”

“If my ‘evil genius’ memory serves me correct, little girl…I believe he was referring to end of entire universe.” Jumba replied, and everyone gasped in surprise.

The room had fallen deathly silent for a moment, until Rentro had stuck his furry head back into the room and addressed the group. “Uh…you people don’t worry about this door here. We’ll get the manager to take care of it. Okay?” And with a nod, he left to regroup with his fellow C.O.V.N.E.T. agents on their hunt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

“What the…what is this?” Peter exclaimed. He’d always known the right way to catapult yourself out of a dream was to pitch yourself. He attempted that now, pinching his arm through the suit. He felt the pain; that torpedoed the entire dream theory. Even stranger, though, was that the suit seemed to pull away from his skin, like elastic. When he released it, it snapped back. “Ow! Sticks!” Whatever this tarry stuff was, it hadn’t simply covered the suit. It had actually permeated it, been absorbed through, adhering to his skin.

Panic welled within him…but faded just as quickly. He felt an almost soothing sense of peace and well being, so much so that it never occurred to him to question it. He stopped to study, really study, the way his reflection appeared in the building. He flexed one arm, then the other; amazingly, his muscles were larger. He felt stronger too, nearly bursting with power.

It was as if he were reborn…no. More than that. He was truly alive for the first time in his life.

It wasn’t just the strength he sensed burgeoning within him. He was more attuned not only to his own body, but to the entirety of the city as well. The full potential of his spider-sense pulsed in his brain—as if invisible web lines radiated in every direction, and he was at their center. Just as with a real spider, any small vibration in any of the lines instantly caught his attention.

But it didn’t take much to direct his attention towards the man that had suddenly appeared at the window, grabbing both sides of the curtain and attempting to close them up in order to obtain privacy. But before he had done so, he gazed upon the black-suited Spider-Man, as he was clinging to the bedroom window of his hotel suite. Peter stared back at him, seeing the unimpressed look on his face as he stood there and looked up and down at the upgraded hero. With a small shrug from his shoulders, the man closed up the curtains, leaving Spidey to stare back at his own reflection again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

The middle-aged British-born Neville came to the United States with his genteel, middle-aged wife, Dorcas, to find some more enjoyment to their rather dull and stodgy life. With the children still away, the butler still discharged, and the pets still dead, their vacation in New York City seemed to have been more than exciting. Even the brief encounter that Neville had with the black-suited Spider-Man seemed meaningless, as he returned to the dinner table in the dining area of their suite, where he and Dorcas had their average, stodgy dinner.

“Did you close the curtains, dear?” Dorcas asked upon his entrance.

It took Neville quite a moment to respond to her question, as he pondered over seeing Spider-Man at their bedroom window. Once he realized that his wife was addressing him, he said, “Uh, yes, darling. I close the…er…” He then abruptly changed the subject in the middle of his sentence. “I’m not quite certain if I was seeing things…but I could have sworn I saw Spider-Man at the window.”

“Did you say Spider-Man, dear?” Dorcas asked, seeming slightly interested.

“Yes.” Neville replied, as he took a bite out of his steak dinner. “It was the oddest thing. He was wearing a new suit.”

Dorcas seemed to have been barely listening as she tasted some of her tomato soup. “That’s interesting. What color was it?”

“It appeared to have been black.”

Dorcas shook her head a little. “Dreadful color.”

“Yes…that’s exactly what I thought.” Neville stated, before taking a big sigh and began playing with his mashed potatoes and green peas, mixing them together like he usually did. “Have I forgotten to call the butler and ask if he took care of the garden before we left?”

“The butler is still discharged, Neville.” Dorcas reminded him.

Neville suddenly remembered just that and nodded in response. “Oh, yes.” He played around with his potatoes and peas some more, and he was about to taste them, until he reminded himself of something else. “Did we make sure to tell the children to feed the pets before we left?”

“Darling, the children are still away and the pets are still dead, remember?”

Neville suddenly recalled just that and nodded again, taking another deep sigh as he tasted his mixture of mashed potatoes and peas. They sat there in his mouth for a long time, as he stared at the dinner table and lost himself in his normal stupor. He wondered for a moment if the “black-suited Spider-Man” was still clinging to the window of their bedroom.

He was suddenly roused out of that stupor, as the door to their suite was instantly broken down, allowing the hunting C.O.V.N.E.T. agents to pour right in and check every section of the suite with their equipment. Neville and Dorcas were quite perplexed at the sight of the men in black suits rushing all around their suite, turning over furniture and putting holes in the wall. It was enough to break their attention away from their stodgy dinner and keep it on the five men.

Ed Singer, still carrying his “really big gun,” walked right up to the dinner table that the couple were still sitting at and addressed them very hastily. “I’m sorry to have interrupted your meal, sir and madam. But have you just happened to have seen something black and slimy ooze across this room recently?”

“I haven’t seen anything slimy and oozing, sir.” Neville replied. “But I did see Spider-Man outside our bedroom window, wearing what appeared to be a black suit.”

Singer was highly intrigued by what Neville had just revealed to him. Meanwhile, Ryan had picked up a heavy reading from one of their trackers and immediately approached Ed with his information. “Agent Singer! I’ve found it! It’s that way!” He pointed in the direction of Dorcas and Neville’s bedroom, and the agents immediately rushed into there.

Once they had approached the large window of the bedroom, Ed quickly parted open the curtains and looked out of it, only to see the gorgeous view of the Manhattan skyline. But Singer was much more interested in his prey than the view the British couple had from their suite. “He’s gone! Where is he?”

Ryan had gawked at his tracker again, and his eyes widened in surprise over the readings that were coming across it. “He’s moving, sir! And I do mean he’s moving! Really fast!”

“Let’s get back to the cab!” Singer demanded. “We’re not going to lose him again!” And just as fast as the order had been given, he and his fellow agents had rushed out of the hotel suite, leaving behind the still perplexed Neville and Dorcas sitting at their dinner table.

But it wasn’t long before Rentro had walked back into the room and addressed the couple, saying, “Uh…you people don’t worry about that door there. We’ll get…ah, never mind. You folks just have a pleasant evening. Okay?” And with a nod, he left to regroup with his fellow C.O.V.N.E.T. agents on their hunt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Peter was oblivious to the concept that whatever had bonded with him might have its own mind, its own agenda. That while he was busy testing the limits of his own abilities, the creature was doing the exact same thing.

The black-suited Spider-Man ran. Moving at breakneck speed, he sprinted down the face of the building and then leaped powerfully. He somersaulted in midair, bounded off a lower rooftop, and landed with perfect precision upon a narrow ledge. Not something that would have been beyond his abilities to accomplish before…but not this effortlessly. He would have been looking ahead, calculating distances, making sure that he could pull it off. Instead, as if his body no longer needed his conscious mind to function, he simply leaped into action, moving with far greater sureness and facility than ever before.

“No problem,” he said, confirming it for himself. “How’d I do that?” He caught his reflection in the mirrored glass, turned this way and that, and said, “Gotta be this suit. But how did…?”

As a scientist, his first impulse was to go home, remove the suit (presuming he could), and find some way to study it. It was the height of recklessness to be throwing himself around hundreds of feet in the air without the slightest true comprehension of what this…this thing…could and could not do. But the impulse was quickly smothered, again by some part of his mind that wasn’t his.

This time, though, Peter started to fight it. Although he didn’t consciously experience it, part of his core personality started to rise through the “static” that the suit was creating within his mind, like a deep-sea diver in distress, struggling back toward the surface.

The alien symbiote—for that was what had attached itself to him—fought for its own survival. It reached deep within Peter, found that which was most distressing him, then plucked the single strand on Peter’s newly heightened spider-sense that would lead him straight to his quarry.

Peter, not realizing that the symbiote had triggered the response, suddenly knew (just knew) exactly where Flint Marko and Nicky Holiday were. Something in his head did a fast “zoom in,” and his concerns about the creature bore no further thought. Instinct kicked into overdrive as Peter bounded away from the building, webbing down toward the street, moving dangerously fast. Even as he had done so, he could sense someone following him in a taxicab, and someone following that person in a motorhome.

Weird, he thought. But as long as whoever they are don’t get in my way, what does it matter? I’ve found who I’m looking for. And they’re going to pay…dearly.

END OF CHAPTER TWELVE​

 

[The Count]

You know... There are a few things I'd like to ask about Alissa, but I'll wait until the next chapter with the big plot twist gets posted as I don't want to give anything away regarding her appearance.
So I hope the next chapter gets posted soon please.

 

[The Count]

*Chuckles lightly at being ziffled by the author. Absolutely loved how you included Lilo's ohana in this chapter. But isn't Lilo's hair red? Very much liked how Nicky and Darla are now being added to the villainous team with their specialized armor. And of course, there's the whole change in Peter, the conversation with his friends, the dream, the nightmare, the way the symbiot manipulates his inner conscious being... It's all so great, waiting to find out what'll happen to some of the other characters though. LMK if I should PM you with my questions instead.

Thanks, and hope more gets posted soonerishkibbible.