My name... is Peter Parker. I was bitten by a radioactive spider. And for 2 years I've been the world's one and only Spider-Man. I'm sure you know the rest. I fell in love and I saved everyone again, and again, and again, got attacked by a psycho gu...
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Okay okay, maybe I need to rewind things a bit.. I'm kinda starting things a little bit too far into the fray here. Just give me a sec to wind it down. So ahem.. where do I even begin?
It was a day that started like any other.
I woke up.
I had breakfast.
Kissed my aunt goodbye.
Pretended to leave out the door.
Climbed UP the wall behind my house on my sticky fingers.
Swung straight into my bedroom window,
Slipped on my red and blue booty pajamas.
And then I jumped onto the roof of my neighbor's house, shot some sticky web lines into the New York skyline and swang away like Tarzan on way too much expresso.
Now this probably doesn't sound like your morning, unless you have some serious mental issues or an obssession for immitating blind lawyers with no fear... minus the sticky web lines maybe.
Well let me simplify it for you. My name is Peter Parker. I was bitten by a Radioactive Spider, and for 2 years I've been your one and only Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. Pretty cool huh?
So to further uber simplify it, I got injected with bug juice, got super powers, and now I jump from high buildings on sticky bug string to beat up people who like to dress up like birds and rhinos!
Uhhh okay that sounds wrong, but you get the point... I hope. In any case, given that none of you have already written me off as some headcase in need of a padded room, I'll continue from here.
It had been a rather eventful 2 years. I made mistakes, I had a few triumphs, made more mistakes, lost the love of my life, lost my uncle, and to say that the events of the past 24 and a half months were in ANY way easy to summarize in a few sentences would be the biggest lie of Lil' ol' Pete's entire career. You could say I almost gave up quite a few times.
But as my uncle always said. "With Great Power comes Great Responsibility."
And before I even chucked my mask into the trash can, I found myself putting it back on with a resigned sigh.
Not that I don't enjoy my job occassionally. Ya gotta find joy in what you do after all, or your mental health takes a dive quick!
Take now for example. Classic hero crime stop: Armed Robbery.
I saw them before they saw me.
The sunrise seemed to light up the dewdrops on their windbreakers, their ski masks glowing orange from the light that slowly got brighter in the distance.
Even from 80 feet in the air, I could see that detail as my electronic mask lenses slid into focus, helping my normally unbearably heightened senses focus on the intricate details, a testament to yours truly's love of at home DIY engineering.
They probably thought robbing a place at 6:00 am would make the cops less likely to put a rush job on getting to the store front. Unfortunately for them, the Early Spidey Gets the Worm, and I had an important meeting to get to.
