I sucked in shallow breaths of air as I examined the damage done to my now destroyed car. I was frozen to that spot, hoping, praying, that this was someone else’s turquoise Honda Civic. But it was undeniably mine. Despite the front being completely smashed in by rubble, I could clearly recognize the contents inside my messy vehicle. I saw the mountains of paperwork and mail on the floor, my basketball and gym bag on the front seat (so much for having a relaxing workout after work), I even made out my little pine tree shaped air freshener on the mirror, which was somehow still attached to the crumpled windshield.
As the initial shock began to wear off, the blood-curdling screams of the people around me made their way into my consciousness. I looked around panicked, trying to pinpoint the source of their fears. My eyes widened as I realized that my car was only a minor causality among the destruction on Main Street. My mouth flew open and somehow, without my permission, the words “God help us all…” slipped from my lips. I heard loud bashing coming from the building above me and my head shot up towards the sound.
It only took a second to realize what was going on. I had heard about these…freaks…wreaking havoc in New York City, but I never thought I would witness it firsthand. It was no other than our “friendly, neighborhood Spiderman” fighting yet another crazed lunatic bent on destroying the world (or whatever this one planned to do). He was on my office building and I cringed as their reckless attacks sent pieces flying from the structure.
I instantly went from frightened to angry thinking about all the destruction these superhuman jerks caused on an almost daily basis. Sure, Spiderman fought crime and all that, “saving” us from monster after monster, but it seemed like we didn’t even have problems with these creatures until he crawled out of whatever hole he came from. I missed the days when human violence was the only thing we had to worry about. Now, as Doc Ock scaled the building, there was the threat of our entire city (and perhaps even the world) being destroyed. Maybe the crazy guy who always hung around the subways, holding a sign that read, “The end is near!” was not too far off.
I jumped back just in time to miss being crushed to death by a huge piece of debris from my building. My eyebrows arched angrily. I grabbed a chunk of my hair with both hands and screamed in frustration. Randomly, the book, “Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day” flashed into my mind. When I was young, I remembered being able to identify with the unlucky, redheaded boy on his bad day. Today, I could easily say that I was beyond his insignificant bad day. If I had a book for today it would be called, “Randy and the Fucked up, Shitty, Crazy, Life-ruining Day.” Beat you, Alexander. Let’s go down the list, shall we: Car ruined…Check! Unemployed (I looked back up at my wrecked office building)…Check! Taxes raised from the destruction…Check! Maybe if I went home, I’d find my house destroyed as well. That would certainly be the icing on the cake.
The sound of Doc Ock’s voice broke me from my thoughts. “Die Spiderman!” he shouted, throwing one of his metal tentacles towards Spiderman’s throat. He jumped out of the way just in time, shooting his web higher up the building to pull himself away, dodging his attack. Doc Ock cursed and looked up as a wad of Spiderman’s web hit his glasses, blinding him. Spiderman took the opportunity to swing around and kick him from the building, while he was distracted. He crashed into the street, leaving a crater behind when he pulled himself back up.
Suddenly my view of the scene was obscured as a woman ran in front of me and started shaking my shoulders. “Are you crazy!?” she said, anxiously looking behind her, “Come on! We have to get out of here!”
[To be continued…]