Chapter 5

Spiderman and Wolverine drunkenly stumbled out the front doors of Nordstrom.
“Well…man, that was pointless,” grumbled Wolverine shortly before he fell to the ground. After Spiderman helped him up, there was a strange moment of silence when the superheroes realized they didn’t have anything to do and they were too drunk to think of anything productive to use their time for. It was actually kind of weird that they both realized this at the same time, but some say that Spiderman and Wolverine share a very special, very platonic bond. The dialogue-free pause was punctuated by a query from Spiderman.
“Wolverine, do you remember the first time we met?”
“Do I?” replied Wolverine. “It was a sunny day. Well…not so much sunny as cloudy. The air was fresh with the smell of plums, because we were in Doohickey, Georgia, the plum capital of the United States. The ground was dewy, though not so dewy as to soak through my shoes. Well anyway it was about 2 o’clock.
“I had a weird feeling about that day from the moment I woke up. I didn’t know what to think of it at the time, but the first thing that popped into my head as I struggled free from the icy grip of slumber was, ‘You’re gonna meet Spiderman.’ I brushed it off as just another one of the many crazy thoughts that pass through my head all day, but as it turns out, I think I might be psychic.
Temporarily forgetting about my Spiderman-related vibe, I got out of bed and casually strolled into the kitchen of the X-Men fortress to cook up my favorite breakfast: a big bowl of Alpha-Bits cereal with water instead of milk.
“As I greedily chomped away at the delicious sugary letters, all spooky auras of mystery were washed away in swirl of vaguely-educational food-time fun. Those auras sure didn't stay away for long, though, and that weird feeling from earlier came crawling back as I reached the bottom of my bowl of cereal. I almost didn’t notice it, but when I looked down into that water, I saw 9 letters still left uneaten…those letters were A, D, E, I, M, N, P, R, and S. These letters can be only be rearranged one thing: ‘Spiderman,’ an eerie turn of coincidence indeed.
“Well, as the morning progressed, I took a shower and then I jacked-off. Nothing Spiderman-related happened until later in the day, when I was walking down the street and I saw Spiderman, you, standing on corner and smoking a blunt with a bunch of Asians. This, of course, was back in the days when you used to have a mouth-slit so that you could smoke blunts through your mask. You were laughing and talking and pushing the Asians around jokingly and all I could think was, ‘Is this really the same Spiderman who trapped that helicopter between the Twin Towers with a gigantic spider web?’ This, of course, was back before the Twin Towers had been knocked down on national TV.
Well, after the initial shock of seeing you for the first time in person had worn off, I figured like you looked like a nice enough guy so I walked up and introduced myself.
‘Spiderman! What’s up, dude?’ I shouted, holding my hand in the air for a high five.
‘Um…do I know you?’ you replied, and my overall sense of social acceptance began sinking toward the ground even faster than my high five hand. Boy, I'll tell ya, in that moment, all I wanted to do was to curl up on my back and die with my limbs bent inward toward my abdomen. ‘Nah dude, I’m just fuckin’ with ya. You’re motherfuckin’ Wolverine, of course! I’ve always wanted to meet you, man. How the fuck are you doing on this fine Tuesday fucking afternoon?’ With those words, a wave of relief washed over me and I immediately felt at ease being around you. It was like magic personified.”
“Yeah-heh-heh-heeah!” replied the web demon. “Man, I was somewhat of a dick back in the day-o.”
“Yeah, but it was funny. Hey, what ever happened to that one Asian bitch that you were always hangin’ around with…what was her name?” asked Wolverine.
“Her name was Kimberly Kim,” replied the one and only Spiderman.
“You ever fuck her?”
“Fuuuuuck, shits yeah, dude, you best believe I got all up in that.”
“Dude,” responded Wolverine, “You’re a fucking pimp. You are my American Idol. Well anyway, after I first introduced myself, do you remember what happened?”
“Dude,” moaned Spiderman, “What I remember is you getting impermissibly fucked up! It was so great, and I laughed.”
“Ah,” responded Wolverine, “but you don't quite tell the whole story…I seem to remember a slightly more intricate sequence of events…and it goes it a little something like this…
“After I had gained your verbal approval, everything seemed to be going perfectly. That is until you said, and I quote,
‘Yo, Wolveine smoke this pote sticky stoke poke smoke dope ope coke smoke…it will blow your fucking mind!’ In my mind, I was like,
‘Fuck it, okay,’ and smoked your wacky blunt with a big smile on my face. That’s when things got crazy.
“Within a few short moments after taking a ‘hit,’ I began to feel woozy. I started to stumble around, and quickly began punching and biting random people who were unfortunate enough to be in my range of vision. I was soon laying on the ground crying because I thought I was dead and had only imagined my life. After doing that for a little bit, I blacked out due to the intense high from the potent marijuana. I don’t know what happened next, but three days later I woke up on an inflatable raft that was laying in the foyer of fancy mansion. Compounding the bizarreness of coming to in this unfamiliar setting, I was wearing one of those umbrella hats and a yellow tank top that had a caricature of Chris Rock on it. Also, I had on biker shorts and Converse All-Stars and I had a temporary tattoo of a motorcycle on my left check, already cracking off in parts. I found out a few days later that during my blackout I had called up a bunch of people I know and apparently I was saying some really weird shit. I guess I called up Cyclops and told him that I was hanging out with Spiderman, and when he didn’t believe me I started berating for several minutes about the fact that he shoots lasers out of his eyes. Well, anyway, to wrap this story up, the rest, as they say, is history. Oh my, how things have changed since those crazy days!”
“Yeah dude, and it's all because of September 11th. The events of that day completely altered my outlook on life and really made me focus on the things that really matter, as it would for anyone who understands the importance of 9/11. And who doesn't understand that? Nobody I know! Cause, I mean, if you were some sort of alien from outer space or something, then you might be a jerk and remind people about how the attacks resulted in only 2,993 of the approximately 150,000 deaths that occur on any given day, each representing an equally notable termination of a human consciousness. You probably wouldn't even care that much about the buildings that were damaged or destroyed, you heartless alien bastard, reasoning that these constructions, however spectacular, were already-temporary appropriations of various minerals in a moderately organized arrangement, with relatively little long-term significance to the stability of this country's, or the world's, overall infrastructure. Then you'd probably come out with some bullshit about how the true significance of the attacks lies wholly and completely within the the effects they had on the individual; how it changed their awareness (and the perceived importance) of various factors relating to physical events of what happened. You'd probably cap off your big alien sassfest by questioning the wisdom of building another skyscraper where the World Trade Center buildings previously stood (especially one that is specifically designed to stand taller than the Twin Towers did), not because of concerns about any future violent acts toward the new building, but because it represents a collective 'Fuck me? Fuck you!' attitude that ideally should have been examined much more extensively in the wake of the original attacks, but instead has been embraced as a conveniently simple method of processing what took place and deciding how to respond. Then again, that alien probably wouldn't have ever even ridden a motorcycle, so I just don't think that he could understand how us Americans felt on that fateful day,” first-responded Spiderman. “I mean, I used to run loose - real loose - acting on various whims I had and following no one but the wind. But when that first plane hit, I instantly changed completely, and now I’m a new man. Like, for one thing, I don’t cuss as much as I used to.”
“That’s for sure,” said Wolverine, “You don’t smoke nearly as much weed, either.”
“Yes, these days, except for occasionally getting irresponsibly drunk, I like to keep my mind clear so that I am always ready to kill the bad guys.”
“And you sure kill a lot of bad guys!” added Wolverine, and they both had a good laugh at that one.
“Well, shit,” said Spiderman, “I don’t know about you, but I’m still standing out in front of Nordstrom and I’m still pretty drunk, so we should go do something...and I know just the thing to do.”
“What’s that?” asked Wolverine, his voice teeming with unbridled curiosity!
“Welllll,” said Spiderman, dragging out the tension as long as possible, “We…should go see…A TRAILBLAZERS…GAME!”
“Ooh, I like it!” replied Wolverine with highly-palpable excitement, “There’s a game in only half an hour, and if we hurry we could probably catch the tip-off! Let’s use your amazing ability to swing around on spider webs to get us there in record time! But hey, Spiderman…”
“Yes?”
“Just be careful that you don’t kill us, you drunk bastard!” After the two had a good laugh about that one, Wolverine grabbed onto Spiderman and Spiderman shot a web up in the air and it attached to a nearby building and they were off!