New York City, 2039
“Spider-Boy!”
The young man in the red, white & black costume smiled. You couldn’t see the smile due to the mask but the way his cheekbones went up you could tell he was grinning like an idiot.
“I love the guttural way you say it, Harry,” Spider-Boy quipped as he flipped about making the Green Goblin aka Harry Osborn angrier. “Shouldn’t you be in Miami playing shuffleboard and swindling old ladies out of their fortunes?”
“Brat!” Green Goblin hurled a pumpkin bomb but Spider-Boy thwipped out a stream of webs coating the orange explosive whilst attaching it to the Goblin Glider.
“Seriously, you should retire,” he laughed as the explosive sent the glider careening across the sky. “If you hang up the goblin, I won’t web you up and deliver you to the po-po, deal?”
Green Goblin finally righted the wayward flying machine and glared at the teenage arachnid. His gauntlet sparked before a barrage of electric bolts flew out.
“Missed! Missed! Missed! Close! Ow, just kidding!” Spider-Boy bounced about as he made a mass of webbing on his right hand. “I always wanted to try this. Thanks for volunteering Hari-Kari.”
With a massive punch Spider-Boy slammer the web ball into the Goblin’s face covering it in a sphere of grey goo. Harry Osborn tried to scream but the ball smothered the sound and his oxygen. Pretty soon the old villain passed out and fell off his glider towards the street.
“Don’t snap his neck, don’t snap his neck!” Spider-Boy fired a webline after him and caught him on the leg. He quickly fired two more anchor lines to the adjacent building to make a Y shape. The Green Goblin bobbed helplessly up and down.
“Now a little bit of goo remover dad borrowed from the Trapster,” Spider-Boy fired a pellet from his webshooter into the web ball whereby it instantly transformed into harmless blue gas. A groggy Green Goblin looked at his pubescent archenemy with a scowl.
“I hate you!”
Spider-Boy folded his arms in a huff. “Well guess who isn’t coming to my sweet sixteen?”
With a deft left hook, Spider-Boy knocked him out cold before webslinging his way away.
—
“Benjamin George Steven Parker!”
Ben knew he was in trouble when his mother used his full name. He didn’t mind it because he was named after several great men from his parents' life but having them bellowed at him from the kitchen was never good.
“Yeah, mom?” He poked his head around the corner. Standing there was his mother, Gwen Parker. In hand was a piece of paper.
“Care to explain why I have eight hundred dollars worth of ForkNite charges on my credit card bill?”
Ben gulped. He played ForkNite nearly every day. Nearly every day new skins, mods, packs, and weapons were released to the platform and to compete at the top levels you needed the latest stuff. It was a genius idea from Stark-Roxx Industries.
“Maybe dad...”
“You know how I feel about Tony,” Peter Parker said from behind his son making him jump out of his skin. “Guy already has nine billion dollars and yet needs to make more with a game version of heroin. Explain?”
Ben sighed. “I need...”
“There is a difference between wants and needs,” Gwen stated plainly.
“If I want to stay in the top 20 I need the best gear, ok! Is it too much to ask? My grades are good, I do all my chores, I protect the city, can’t I have a little fun?”
“Eight hundred dollars is not a little fun.” Gwen retorted.
“Your mother is right,” Peter added. “But top 20, really? That is cool!”
“Peter!” Gwen scolded and glared at him.
To be continued...
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