Law 300
Chapter 2: Repeat Offenders

Copyright© 2014 by Redsliver

Fan Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 2: Repeat Offenders - Better armed with his newly designed spider tracers, the criminals of New York City are about to get it much worse. However, as his past of cutthroat business tactics catches up with Roderick Kingsley, and Ned Lee closes in on the Spider-man and Green Goblin scoop, a new player with an old face takes to the field.

Caution: This Fan Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Teenagers   Science Fiction   Superhero  

"They're saying it's your fault." Jenkins told Manfredi. "Your inclusion of a supervillain led to this."

"They'd be wise to keep their mouths shut." The platinum blonde replied. The back window rolled up. "Reports are less than explicit. Jack doesn't know the meaning of subtlety. I have another theory"

"Goblin is dead."

"Yes." Sable sneered. She looked back through the tinted glass. The firefighters were doing quick work containing the smouldering ruins of her waterfront warehouse. Her car rejoined traffic unnoticed. It still didn't sit right with her. Jack had been a good little psychopath since Tombstone had been flushed out. He had kept his rampages to armored car robberies and retaliatory strikes. Sable had hoped he would have been smart enough to leave well enough alone. She still believed that. Her crew did not. In the name of saving face, she was going to get nasty. She hadn't smashed pumpkins since Halloween in junior high.


"Liz made the honor roll. She is so excited. If I don't take her she'll be devastated." Peter had been pleading his case all morning. Liz had kept him up late into the night badgering him about the importance of the Hydra party.

"Of course you can, Peter." May smiled over her mug.

"It's an all as ages club. There won't be any drinking. She'll never forgive me if I don't make it."

"I said yes twice now." May pointed out.

"I'm not even going to need uncle Ben's old tux. Liz bought me a shirt as a way to say thank you. I'm supposed to wear that and--"

It behooved May to pick up one of her muffins and shove it directly into Peter's motormouth. He managed to snap out of his babbling when his reflexes nearly encouraged him to wrench May's arm from its socket. Luckily, he didn't even pull at all before he caught himself. He took the muffin with a sheepish smile.

"I thought I told you to be honest with these girls, Peter." May looked at him with worried eyes. "It's like you won't take yes for an answer. Well I'm not going to give you an easy way out. It seems like you and Elizabeth need to talk."

Peter didn't have a reply. He watched his aunt take the extra muffins to the cookie jar next to the fridge. His thoughts had started to catch up with him but nothing quite formed before his phone rang. "Liz?"

"Petey! I'm sorry but I couldn't wait. Did you talk to your aunt yet?"

"Uh, Yeah. We're on."

The resulting excitation was pitched high enough to wake every dog in all five Boroughs. "Tonight, eight o'clock?"

"I don't think I'll make it through these next twelve hours." Liz confessed.

"I'll see you tonight." Peter shared no excitement. He cut off her goodbye with a click of his Osberry and sat it face down on the table. His forehead immediately fell beside it.


"Mornin' LT, did I ever tell you how good you look in gold? " Sergeant Stan Carter had a bright smile that morning. He carried two steaming cups of coffee. He was still getting used to having a new partner. Vin Gonzales was no Jean deWolff, but the kid was eager. Stan wondered how Al had kept up with him. His old partner was perched behind a half century old desk. She was not wearing anything like a smile. "Two cream no sugar. They didn't have that cream cheese you like so I just skipped the bagels completely."

"What the hell are you doing talking to reporters?" The lieutenant tossed the day's Daily Bugle onto her desk.

"Uh..." Stan replied in due eloquence. He then gestured forward with the paper wrapped cup.

"We do not sanction vigilantes!" She shouted taking her feet. Stan wished he had shut the door when he had come in. He tried to avoid seeing the paper under deWolff's hand. Pumpkin Bombings Kill Four "Worthless Lowlifes" was a pretty damning headline.

"C'mon deWolff! Captain gives Spidey a free pass. Nothing I said wasn't true." He pleaded.

"You're not the Captain. You are not the only one responsible for the fool words coming out of your fool mouth. The Captain wouldn't be so insensitive as to speak this way of the dead. The Captain would never let anyone think we're supporting the Goddamn Jack o' Lantern! As far as I see things, we are way too lenient on this kind of thing. Going forth, our policy is zero tolerance on vigilantism. We're going to start by taking down Spider-man."

"Sure thing, LT." Stan made the mistake of reminding Jean that he had been called in the first place. Her brown eyes steeled on his.

"You should be suspended. I've been given leave to do just that." Her calmness was more unsettling than her rage had been. "I'm not going to do that. I know you'll get into even more trouble if you're not being babysat." That comment incited laughter from the bullpen. Stan hardened his jaw and kept his eyes on Jean. "You speak to any reporter again and you're fired. Understood?"

"Understood." He asserted.

"Good." Carter turned to leave. "When you come by tomorrow, you'll bring the bagel."


"He needs to be sedated. Please. He's in pain." Dr Ashley Kafka looked up from the gurney. Her hand resting on John's shoulder. It clearly wasn't as soothing a gesture as he seemed to need. The Air Force colonel kicked and thrashed against his restraints. Ashley pleaded with J. Jonah, her eyes expressing her concern.

"We need to keep him sober." Dr Warren 's voice belied sympathy. Kafka only heard the dangerous curiosity that bubbled at the bottom of his soul."This is a delicate operation. We need to verify the state of his brain chemistry."

"The power! Give me back the power!"

"Doctor!" Jameson rushed to his son's side. Ashley was crowded off the patient's shoulder. The newspaperman pleaded with her. "How can we make him more comfortable?"

"Without sedation--" She met Warren's eyes and changed tack. "We'll.secure his jaw so he doesn't bite his tongue off."

"Thank you, doctor." Warren's gratitude was a sour reward. Kafka sorted her medical tools. Jameson brushed his son's forehead. Sweat was soaking through his straightjacket. The padded leather restraints creaked and pulled under tension.

"This well help him won't it? Because God have mercy on you if this is some --"

"I assure you Mr Jameson, this is the best hope for your son. " Warren laid a hand above Jameson's elbow. "Everyone here is doing their very best to give your son back the life such a brave young man deserves."

"We're ready," Debra wheeled in a table full of syringes and instruments. Ashley looked to Debra but found no emotional compatriot. John struggled against his muzzle. His father kissed his son on the forehead.

"My eyes are on you." Jameson turned towards Miles. He resisted a moment before allowing Debra to lead him from the room.

Kafka oversaw the precision team that Warren and Whitman made. After two quick blood samples and one cerebrospinal fluid sample, the pair started on their supposed cure. Kafka had read the papers and agreed with much of the abstract. She felt this was foolhardy and impatient. Grafting mammalian DNA onto human should be decades of trials away from such a test. She tried not to grind her teeth too loudly. She doubted J Jonah Jameson would have noticed an earthquake at the moment.

"The treatment is prepared. Sample is lupine focusing on strength and familial bonds." Warren spoke for the recorder. Debra applied an arc to the sample. "Electrolyzed. Administering treatment."

"Is it happening? What's happening?" Jameson gripped the railing as he looked down into the theatre. His son rolled and thrashed in his bonds. Warren had stepped back after injecting the serum into John's forearm. Debra had needed no cue to stay back. They gave no passing look to Jameson's conniptions. Slowly, minutes ticking near the hour, John began to settle. Kafka rushed ahead of Warren. She leaned over the patient. His eyes showed lucidity. He was patiently waiting to be released. For a moment, she thought of Warren as a miracle worker. She was working off the mouth restraints when the father pushed against the son.

"John! How do you feel?" Kafka had a smile for the man who steamrolled her.

"Do you think we could get a table at Luigi's? I could really go for that steak." The collision of a hug guarded the scientists from seeing a father shed tears for his son. Kafka turned to offer congratulations to Warren. She saw his back disappear into his office. She decided to offer her hand to Debra. They set to cleaning the lab.

"The preliminaries look good, Miles."

"Of course they do." Dr Warren was impatient. "All I need is your specifications and we'll be ready to proceed."

"Time is of the essence, but we will not be moving ahead recklessly. I will monitor Jameson for the time being."

"This lack of faith insulting, Michael."

"I would expect no less of you. We're men of science, not men of faith."

"Very well." Dr Warren agreed. "I will require the retainer nonetheless."

"Now this is the man I can trust. The money will be transferred by the end of the day."

"There is one way by which I can assuage your hesitations." Dr Warren suggested.

"Jameson is not a man you want to upset." Michael reminded.

"This will assure him the procedure is foolproof." Dr Warren shrugged. "A few hours of turmoil will be fine. I will begin the trial when the money transfer has completed."

"Very well. I hope for both of our sakes you're as successful as your confidence suggests." Michael fell into a coughing fit into his red handkerchief. He took a moment longer to compose himself. "Good day, Miles."

"Farewell, Michael."


Hydra occupied the first two basements of its Midtown home. Gwen had never felt so out of place standing in line. She was sheltered under Harry's arm while he chatted and bragged with Kenny. The few attempts Glory had made at conversation had died between the teenaged girls.

"Rand and Sally are already inside." Glory looked up from her phone. "Flash is on his way."

"Any word on MJ? " Gwen asked. She wasn't certain if she was too afraid of asking about Liz and Peter or that she wanted to keep him from her thoughts.

"Just that she's fashionable but not late." The redhead seemed to materialize out of the crowd. Her green eyes turned to Gwen's new dress. "Wow, Gwen!"

"I know," Harry and Glory agreed. The quiet blonde was wearing a red dress. The skirt floated in waves at her knees. The front was conservatively cut, yet accented her figure more than anything she had worn before. Her arms and shoulders were bare except for the rose corsage on her left wrist. Her cheeks were mimicking the hue of her dress. Her flat sandals, though lovely, didn't quite complete the dress.

"I particularly like her accessory." Glory referred to the boy attached to the blonde. Harry matched his date with his full on tuxedo with a millionaire's smile. His arm never left Gwen's shoulders or hips. Mary Jane saw the dimness in Gwen's eyes and held back her praise.

"Yeah who says money can't buy you love?" Kenny laughed. The immediate scowl on Glory's face told him how poorly he picked his words. He still remembered the fall formal and how Glory had picked Harry until Kenny had properly apologized and had won her back. That plus the championship they had lost from Harry's drug use. Kenny harbored hard feelings.

"What the hell are we doing waiting in line." MJ defused Glory's imminent rant. "You've got a billionaire and supermodel in the party. The bouncer isn't going to stop us."

"Isn't that a little unfair?" Gwen asked.

"Absolutely!" MJ beamed.

"Lead the way!" Kenny prompted and pushed Glory by the small of her back after the redhead. Harry's fingers laced with Gwen. The smile she returned was excited and genuine. That's what scared her the most.


Silver Sable grinned in full kit. Her ponytail whipped through the pall of smoke as she fell back. Her knees were slightly spread, gripping the metal railing of the catwalk. Her eyeblack boxed the sights of her weapon. The trigger compressed. The hammer fell. The charges detonated. Bladed staples raced from the muzzle. Her whooping laugh sang harmony with pumpkin screams. She kicked her legs free continuing her flip to the lot below. Fire lanced through what could have been her head.

"You're getting slow Jackie Boy!" She taunted from her one knee crouch.

"You are one ungrateful bitch." Jack's pogo like glider cast sparks from the rail where Sable had so recently dangled. "I had a place for a woman like you! You could have been my queen when I conquered this city."

Sable's lip cocked in disgust. Her Wild Pack took beads on Jack. Gunfire erupted, suppressing an immediate response and drawing actual fire. She kicked into a run, grabbing a hanging chain in her left hand as she gathered speed. "Sorry, Jacky Boy, I have a rule not to get in bed with anybody green." His glider kicked up. Her staple missed his knee but sheared the bottom of the rocket. A blast of exhaust squealed. Jack was thrown clear. Sable's chain was taut and pulled her into the air, swinging back into the fight in a circular pendulum. Jack hit the concrete. His armor kept him from getting torn up as he skidded a couple more feet. Sable released the chain and landed on Jack's supine body. Her shin guards and combat boots squeezed together on his hips. Her staple gun pointed to his bright flaming helmet. "Or, you know, psychotic."

Jack managed to grab Sable's vest above her breasts. He yanked forward as she pulled the trigger. Part of his helmet burst. Sable cartwheeled, but his grip was good. Her long platinum hair scythed through the flames as she pitched over him. The cracking of gunfire drowned under the shriek of pumpkins.

"Too little too late," Sable spun as she skidded the to a halt. The staple gun kicked against her shoulder, bruising her bruises. Jack's eye narrowed through the coughing flames left of his battered helmet. Weaving avoided the first and final staples. The second punched into his armored forearm and the third caught his retaliatory grenade mid flight. Sable and Jack were thrown back from each other. Sable slammed into a crate that splintered and dumped its straw and handguns over her shoulders.

"Captain!" Her soldier shouted to her.

"I'm fine! " she spat humiliated for drawing the sympathy in the middle of the stand off. Green fire and screams ringed the warehouse. Jack's flames towered over get. Sable tugged her shoulder strap. There was no heft. Her weapon was gone. She didn't scream. She just looked up pissed.

"Ms Manfredi!" Came the call again.

"I'm--" Jack 's boot ended her reply. He grabbed her again by the chest and yanked her to her feet.

"Your goon is trying to tell you those aren't my bombs!" Jack growled. He whipped Sable around. She saw the muzzle flashes of her men disappear in sequence. Each fighter vanished in a flash and a scream.

"What?" Sable watched the shadow materialize. He was dead. She had watched them bury Osborn.

"Haa hahaha![1]" Bellowed the Goblin. The smoke parted and he was there. He was darker than the Green Goblin. The natural orange yellow of his Kevlar mask grinned madly under a torn burgundy cloak. He crouched on his glider. He raised his left fist. Three pumpkin blades gleamed in the firelight. "You're dressed to kill tonight, Ms Manfredi."

"You have no idea." Sable gathered her shoulders and every ounce of confidence she could. "But I think it's time you found out."

"No, this copycat is my victim." Jack thrust Sable aside. He brought his flame thrower to bear. The spark from the newcomer's index finger seared black into Jack's breastplate. Jack flew backward off his feet.

"You're calling me a copycat?" The Goblin laughed with manic glee. "You're nothing but a drunk at karaoke. I'm Johnny Cash. This is my song now."


Sweat beaded on her goosebumped skin. Single drops curled through her cleavage. Rivulets slunk down the edge of her spine. Betty pulled on her bangs. A mist atomized in front of her shut eyes. Her lips shined with gloss and saliva. She breathed, sighs catching on the tongue that lagged out across her teeth.

Ned held her by the hips. He bounced her up and down. She rolled herself around on his dick. Her fingernails marked his torso from nipple to navel.

"Ned..." Betty whimpered. Her body rocked in motion and flinched in spasms. She was near, pressure was building in her sex, in her veins, in her mind and in her eyes. It was a near perfect moment. Ned twisted under her, almost precognitively to his phone ringing.

"Don't answer it!" Betty stopped against her body's demands. Ned had the nerve to smirk at her.

"Robbie?" He answered. The reply was long but didn't carry to Betty. After a couple seconds Ned sat up. Betty was still impaled and aghast. She started hearing Robbie's voice through the small speaker.

"--ship in the East River. Sources say its Jack. Can you get there?"

"Consider me already on my way." Ned bubbled excitement.

"Ned!" Betty hissed silently. Ned just kissed her as he picked her off his lap. She flopped onto the bed as Robbie shared the last of the details. "Excellent, I'll be there in a New York minute."

"You'll never believe it. Foswell thinks it's Manfredi, but we know it's Jack so I got first bite."

"You're seriously expecting me to be excited right now?"

"Of course," Ned had pulled on his pants and slipped into a t-shirt. "You're the best."

"At l least one of us is." She mumbled as he hurried out the bedroom door.

Betty sighed, she was cooling down. The roof was boring to watch. The sex had been good but now all she felt was three kinds of empty. Her fingers started circling her sex. If she wanted to spend yet another night alone in bed, she should have stayed home. At least there she had her vibrator and fan stories about being webbed up and dominated by her hero. Well, if Ned was going to ditch her for a costumed man, why shouldn't she?

Betty's eyes drifted shut as the black suited Spider man slipped in through the window. Her lips curled in a smile. The bedsprings were an orchestra her hips conducted. She was quickly murmuring and panting as he mounted her.


Peter was only twenty minutes late. He had managed to wrinkle and misbutton his new shirt. New York's finest had a web wrapped gift waiting for them. He ran his hand through his recently neat hair. He had forgotten the flowers. Liz greeted him with a smile and a kiss. Her purple dress hugged from the swell of her breasts to the tips of her thighs. Peter's tongue nearly collided with his shoes.

"C'mon Petey," Liz led him by the hand towards the elevator. "You have all night to drool over me. I can't have you worn out yet."

The cab was then caught in traffic. The line into Hydra was brutal. Their friends had been in and partying for nearly an hour before Peter and Liz reached the doorman. Liz almost wished she had another hour to be struck in transit with Peter. The first thing they saw through the light show and smoke machines, was Gwen Stacy. The blonde was sandwiched between Harry and MJ. The band geek had the brains, the rhythm and the body. Liz tugged Peter to the left. She had intended to pull him straight onto the dance door. Right now, it was far too crowded.

"Lizzie!" Sally shouted. Her shriek managed to cut through the overbearing music. The tiny cheerleader was still swallowed in the crowd despite her three inches of heel. Liz scanned the crowd. It was Peter who saw Sally and pulled his date to the big table.

"Sally," the two girls met with a hug. "I love this dress! You look like such a slut!" Sally was in pink, the cut of her neck almost to her navel. Her pert breasts squeezed and out. Peter noticed them a third time.

"You're the hot one." Sally retorted. "That shirt is slutty! I'm surprised I can't see your underwear."

"Maybe there's nothing to see." Liz nearly stopped Peter's heart. "I'm surprised you and Rand aren't out on the dance floor. Who is he talking to?"

"John something. I can't believe he can ignore this dress." Sally grumbled. Her arms crossing under her breasts almost distracted Peter one more.

"John's out of the hospital?" Peter pushed in closer.

"Yeah," Sally retreated a little bit when confronted with her own selfishness and Peter's proximity. The frown on her lips was still partially directed at Rand.

"Let Rand catch up with his buddy. Let Petey and me take you out on the dance floor. " Liz picked up her best friend's wrists. Sally gave an unhappy sneer towards Peter. Liz tugged. Sally followed. Peter slogged behind.

Hydra was seriously crowded. Midtown's population was stuffed in passed code and then supplemented with dozens of unrelated party goers. Liz was electric. She ground and distracted and herded Peter by his heart and his hormones. She had been teasing with Sally. Her dance moves eventually revealed the thin material of her thong. Peter found himself having a good time. He couldn't speak to Liz through the music. Sally just sort of lost herself in the crowd. Sha Shan and Flash circled. MJ tried to steal him for a song but found Glory and Liz immediately winging her and slowly levering her off of Peter.

Gwen tried to have fun too. The crowd of them was mixing but it seemed like Peter and she were always at opposite poles of the group. She danced with Kenny, spent half the song with her feet off the floor and her heart struggling with the laughter to escape her throat. She always came back to Harry.

"Do you want to get something to drink Petey?" Liz hollered into his ear. Her black hair was matte with sweat. Her lips glistening as she licked them. Peter was in slightly better shape.

"Totally," Peter agreed. "I'll grab some and meet you back at the table."

"What?!" Liz shouted over the music. Peter repeated themselves and was sent off with a kiss. He approached the bar but was pushed back a handful of times while girls made their way closer to the barman.

"Having trouble, tiger?" MJ announced her presence by pinching Peter's butt. His spider sense prepared him but he still jumped anyways.

"Just a little." Peter admitted. In truth he was imagining webbing the entire crowd to the floor so he could walk over them. MJ laughed and put on her model's pout and poise and the crowd parted. She grabbed a bottle of mineral water and Peter got a few matching bottles and a coke for himself. He turned and finally met eyes with Gwen. She was staggeringly gorgeous in her dress. Peter's mind began to shut down until she turned from him towards an awkwardly dancing Harry.

"I'm going back out there, tiger." MJ elbowed him.

"Drive safe," Peter mumbled and hurried back towards his own date. The music was less deafening on the fringes of the club. Peter handed water bottles to Liz and Sally. From the first he received a gracious kiss. From the latter a mumbled thank you.

"John! What's--John!" Rand shouted into his phone.

"What's going on? Rand?" Kenny asked but was pushed out of his way by his friend.

"Rand Robertson where do you think you're going!" Sally snapped.

"Its John. He's, I don't know. Howling. I have to go." His phone dropped onto the table and Peter's eyes went wide to see the flash of white fur disappear of the corner of the screen. He could hear Jolly Jonah yelling for his son over the club.

"What! Why! What can you do!" Sally begged.

"He's like an older brother to me." Rand pushed Sally aside with a gentle insistence.

"He was undergoing treatment with Dr Warren." Peter stepped forward. "Maybe we can--"

"Not you, Petey!" Liz grabbed his hands. Her brown eyes were pleading but they quickly molded into a sad smile. "If you can help Rand and his friend, you should go."

"Of course," Peter leaned in and pecked Liz's lips. "You're the best."

"I'll take care of Sally. Go on."

Rand was already far gone ahead of Peter. That seemed to work best for the Spider-man. He was near the door when MJ stopped him.

"MJ, what?" Peter stuttered to a halt.

"It's Gwen." The redhead had a sad smile.

"She's with Harry. He can take care of her." Peter declared with a sick fatalism.

"Tiger, listen--"

"No, I'm needed and you know why." Peter was about to hurry around her but he laid a hand on her shoulder first. "Besides she's got you here."

"Alright, go." MJ slumped. "Just be careful."

But her last wish was overshadowed by the bass and the boom.


"Is the food here yet?" John was antsy. He had been forcibly on the phone all night. Checking in with his mother, old friends, the Air Force and now finally Rand. He was just glad the kid was in high spirits and still his very cool self. John was starting rumble. He tried to hope it was all his stomach.

"Luigi's cooking it up special for the two of us. Just you me and a couple of bloody shanks of cow. How's Robbie's boy doing?" Jonah was grinning like a madman. He had already accosted two waitresses and the head chef over the enormity of the night. John had turned back to the phone encouraging Rand to complete his anecdote about seeing Spider-man fight Venom at school. The astronaut was happy his father was too busy being happy to comment on the topic of discussion.

"What's that smell?" John perked up drawing a huge breath in through his nose. His lips rolled back in a grin. He snapped his head back and forth seeing the patrons picking and talking over their steaming hunks.

"My boy, what's wrong?" Jameson dashed around to the side of the table but John had leapt his phone clattering onto the tabletop.

John turned to his father but all he said was garbled into barks and snaps. His blond hair was starting to whiten. Muscle rippled beneath his army jacket. His fingernails began to edge into blades. Then the transformation turned violent. His eyes bright and yellowing flashed to the kitchen doors opening where the waitress was appearing with his food. John's head flipped back. Roaring and howling, his jaw and mouth extended becoming a snout. Slobber shined on his dagger like teeth. He leapt. The waitress screamed. Her tray clattered to the floor. He dove and began tearing into the meat.

"What are we dealing with?" Sergeant Stan Carter arrived on scene with Officer Vin Gonzales. His colleagues had cordoned off Luigi's. SWAT was in the process of positioning snipers on surrounding rooftops. A young woman was crying hysterically while paramedics looked over in the back of an ambulance.

"You!" Stan turned to see Jameson thundering towards him. He sighed, prepared to shrug off the newspaperman and deal with his own. Jameson would not be stopped. "Call off your trigger happy men! That's my son in there and I'll not see him shot down and killed."

"Probably just make him angry." Stan tried to step around Jameson to see the white furred beast man scavenging at each table.

"Besides, there's no budget for silver bullets." Gonzales quipped and turned Jameson right towards him. His semi-smirk collapsed as all cylinders fired on Jameson's pure directed rage.

"What are our options?" Stan abandoned his new partner and turned towards the others present.

"We could try firing the gas canisters through the windows." The riot geared SWAT commander suggest. "If they can take down The Rhino..."

"Any taxpayers left inside?"

"We've been given the all clear."

"Alright," Stan scanned the scene. He was the highest ranking officer present. "Do it."

The windows cracked around small holes as the four gas launchers blasted the charges into the restaurant. The wolf inside growled when one of the spinning gas bombs collided with his head. He was fast, the window left of the door shattered outward. John Jameson was rushing and screeching and decidedly no longer within the cloud of tranquilizer.

A couple of officers brought their sidearms to bear. Stan was not quick enough to stop it he could just see the shit storm forming in front of him. The crack of pistols firing was a fraction of a heartbeat. The bullets sparked against and ricocheted harmlessly off the door panels of a police cruiser.

"Bad dog!" Spider-man had shouted. He had collided feet first into the ribs of John. The monster tumbled out of the line of fire and Spider-man had rebounded backwards. "Now, stay! Play dead!"

The commands didn't have their desired effects. John swiveled up and rushed Spider-man.

"Whoa, Wolfman!" Spider-man was surprised at the speed of his opponent. He was about make a comment on the not insignificant part of his budget that went into maintaining and all too often replacing his uniform.

"My son is not the wolfman!" J Jonah yelled, two officers physically restraining him, "He is a real American hero. He is first and foremost a man!"

"Fine!" Spider-man ducked under a vicious claw swipe. He flexed his arm and hooked under John's armpit. "Whoa Man Wolf! Don't you know these--"

The quip was discontinued as Spider-man bellowed. Claws raked across his chest while he slammed Man Wolf into the pavement with a straight hip toss. The hero skidded back to prevent all the flesh from being torn from his ribs. The spider on his chest was quadrisected, hanging from his body in flaps.

 
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