Chapter 1

“I’m pregnant.”
The two most terrifying words in the English language. The two words every man dreads hearing. The two words than can only mean one thing: somebody’s pregnant. That is unless the person saying these words is Spiderman, and, in this instance, that’s exactly the case.
“Spiderman, what are you talking about, bub?” replied Wolverine from the X-men. “First of all, you’re a man…hence the ‘man’ in ‘Spiderman.’ Second of all, why are you telling me this? Even if you weren’t a man…well, it’s not like I’m your gay lover or something like that.” By this point, all of the other people in McDonald's were staring awkwardly at the two main characters, most of them in an unblinking and slack-jawed manner. After all, it certainly isn’t every day that you see a couple of crazy jerks like these guys saying such wacky things.
“What’re all you fags looking at, bub? Go back to your Happy Meals or I’ll cut you with my retractable adamantium blades.” Wolverine then extended his big huge blades and agressively chopped his McFlurry in half and everybody who was staring at Spiderman and Wolverine was startled and jumped in the air a few inches. Wolverine’s McFlurry proceeded to ooze all over the table. “Man, my head is killing me. I need some Advil, ASAP. Why do you have to pull this crap on me, Spidey…”
“Oh, you know, I just wanted to see how you’d react,” said the mostly-red superhero as he stared off dreamily into space.
“Jesus, you are one big weirdo, Spiderman!” chuckled Wolverine.
“Baby,” replied Spiderman, “I’m the weirdest guy you’ve ever met.” After a few awkward moments of silence, Spiderman decided to bring up something that had been weighing down his head all day. “Wolverine, do you ever think about stuff?”
“Well shit, Spiderman, that’s pretty much all I do,” W shot back in a tone of voice that indicated a slight amount of discomfort with the new topic of conversation.
“No, ha,” laughed Spiderman slightly, “I mean, really think about stuff. Like, you know, the world and shit like that.”
“Well…”
“I mean we go around all day caught up in the drama and strife of the American experience but how often do we stop to really ponder the way we do that?” queried Spiderman as his large white eye things twisted into a slightly more thoughtful shape. “I mean, like, and, I don’t know, this is just something I’ve been toying around with lately but…” Spiderman leaned in closer and lowered his voice to a near-whisper, “Well, what if our universe, the one we live in, is actually like it is in the movie the Matrix, and we are all inside of a giant computer program?”
“Whoa, well. Hey, that’s really kind of a freaky idea due to its potentially daunting implications,” mused Wolverine with a modestly shocked look on his face, “It'd never occurred to me before.” Spiderman crossed his arms and reclined back into his plastic seat with big white eyes that seemed to say, “Yeah, I figured.”
With all of their drama and philosophizing, neither one of the ultra-human dudes had seemed to noticed that Wolverine’s sliced-up McFlurry was quickly melting and had begun to drip into his lap.
“Fuck!” shouted Wolverine, frustrated. “My sliced-up McFlurry is dripping into my lap! We’d better grab some napkins and bounce before somebody starts to think that this is semen from someone's dick.”
“Okay, hold on,” rapped Spiderman, “Just let me pop my back before we get up.”
Pop! Pop pop pop! The bones in Spiderman’s back cracked like a firecracker as he grabbed the back of his chair and twisted the nitrogen bubbles away. Pop pop! Pop pop pop pop pop pop! Several fellow McDonald’s patrons began to get grossed out and make distressed exclamations such as “Ohhh, wack! Nasty! Oh, stop stop!” and “Ooohhhyuuuuuhghhh auuuugggh!” Pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop pop!
“Ooookay, all done!” announced Spiderman in a cheerful tone.
“’Bout fuckin’ time,” mumbled Wolverine, the McFlurry stain slowly seeping through his corduroys, greeting his genitals with an unwelcome zap of frigid, low-quality soft serve ice cream. “Ah! Let’s get out of here, bub!”
No sooner had they gotten up from the table than a man frantically ran through and shattered the glass in the front door of the McDonald’s restaurant. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked around all scatter-eyed at the interior of the dining establishment he had just entered. Everyone’s attention was immediately drawn to this fellow’s hand, in which there was a small, black gun. Had they glanced beyond the weapon he brandished, they would have probably noticed his ragged attire, which included a well-worn yarmulke and a filthy, yet officially-licensed, leather jacket bearing a large NBA logo on the back.
“Alright everybody,” shouted the scruffy-looking rabble-rouser, bits of spittle popping out of his mouth, “This is a stick-up, so nobody move…or else you’re gonna get shot…by MY GUN!” All of the females in the establishment let out an audible gasp, followed quickly by many of these women slumping womanly to the ground in a mass fainting spell.
Of course, if the would-be thief hadn’t chosen to commit his crime in this particular McDonalds, at this particular time, on this particular day, he might have gotten away with it. As it stood, his chances of success were greatly reduced by the presence of two rowdy individuals possessing magical powers from beyond the stars: Spiderman and Wolverine.
Mere seconds after the dirty, unwanted visitor had delivered his well-rehearsed declaration of intent to rob, a potent blast of webbing issued forth from the wrist of Spiderman, traveling several hundred miles per hour until it reached its eventual destination of the gun. There was now a stream of Spiderman's silk attached to the weapon. Having connected with his target, Spiderman instantly yanked back his web-line and reached up to snag the gun out of mid-air, causing the visibly eccentric door-buster to turn his head towards the superheroes in surprise.
As the intruder began to process the fact that his plans had gone off-track, Spiderman handed the gun over to Wolverine and moaned,
“You know what to do.” Wolverine shot his spider-buddy a wink, and then proceeded to pull his arm, gun firmly grasped at the end, all the way back behind him. With a mighty heave, he chucked the weapon back at its owner as hard as he could, and in no time it had traveled across the room and struck that robbing jerk quite forcefully on the forehead. The already-confused weirdo asshole immediately lost his balance and stumbled around comically for a few steps before falling backwards into a plastic-domed display containing all of the Happy Meal toys in the current rotation.
“Oh, my achin’ back!” the man cried as he writhed around helplessly on the floor. Spiderman quickly lept over and picked the man up by the front of his shirt, holding him off the ground as he punched the back-ached malfeasant a few times in the face. After that, he took the now-suffering robber and, with a few quick spurts of webbing, tied him securely to the cashier’s counter.
“Sigh,” heaved Spiderman, “when will you criminals ever learn: crime is gay.”
“Damn youuuuu, Spiderman!” snarled the subdued, sinister scofflaw, “You’ll pay for this! Oh yes, mark my words: this isn’t the last you’ve heard from…MR. CRAZY!”
“Well shit, let’s hope not,” smiled Wolverine sarcastically. “Anyway, damn, Spidey, I think we should get headin' out.”
“Do you want to know what I think?” responded Spiderman.
“What’s that?”
“I think you’re right. It’s about time to go meet up with our good friend Nigger Jim.” And with that the two do-gooders waved goodbye and strode effortlessly through the broken front door, out into the beautiful afternoon sunlight.
A few moments after our heroes had left, the occupants of the McDonald's burst into hysterics.
“Oh, oh, oh my God! Did, did you see Wolverine’s pants?”
“Du-dude had a fuckin’ stain on there and shit; looked like, looked like dude let some dude blow his load all over the fuckin' crotch on there or something!”
“Haha, I know! What the fuck? Hahahaha!”
“Sooooo gayyy.”