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For truth, justice, and things that go Boom.

September 2nd, 2012

The dream I woke up giggling from.

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I was Spider-man, and as the dream opened I was falling off a building and my webshooters weren't working. (So apparently I like the "he created his own webshooters" thing more than "wrist spinnerettes." Go figure.) I was rescued via a flying tackle from Wonder Woman, who then turned around and tossed me right back up onto the ledge I'd fallen from to deal with the Bad Guy. Wondy did not subsequently stick around and help, for some reason, I guess she had other bad guys to deal with. I then found myself leaping around desperately trying to avoid getting run over by what looked like a radioactive zombie skeleton in a souped-up motorized wheelchair, zipping around cackling maniacally. Without webbing I couldn't gum up his wheels or anything, and what else was I gonna do, punch a guy in a wheelchair? Anyway, Radioactive Wheelchair Zombie* zipped from the balcony into the building proper, crowing about having triggered his bomb, so I bailed out and leaped from the ledge into the water below. Because apparently water is immune to shockwaves from explosions, because SCIENCE. So anyway, Spidey saved the day due to annoying the bad guy so much that he blew himself up. Yay!

Cut to what I think was the Avenger's tower. I/Spidey was standing around with some other heroes, and a Hot Female Federal Marshal was grilling me about what had happened and basically accusing me of some nebulous Wrongdoing connected to my recent escapades. Because apparently J.J. Jameson was in the bathroom. As for what happened next... well, I think I can tell it better in fic form:

Don't get too comfortable. )

*...is the name of my next band.
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