Chapter Two “Even Salt Looks Like Sugar”
“Just when you think it can’t get any worse, life comes in to remind you how deep the rabbit hole goes,” Jameson firmly stated, stifling the urge to smile as his lip quivered. Clearing his throat, the man recollected himself before turning his attention to the monitor behind his position. An image of Spider-Man filled its screen, showcasing the vigilante physically assaulting several guards, and Jameson could only shake his head in response. “In case some of you missed it, during the Great and Powerful Mysterio’s performance, that wall-crawling freak not only interrupted the show but attempted to rob the innocent patrons in attendance!”
The footage continued, coming to a pause after Spider-Man was consumed by a wave of emerald flames and hurled through the nearest window. “Fortunately, before he could cause any damage, Jackpot, who prefers to go by his stage name, Mysterio…” Jameson stated, trailing off as someone muttered off screen. The man rubbed his fingers over the bridge of his nose, exhaling. “I know it’s the Great and Powerful Mysterio, Jared, but I’m not saying the entire title everytime he is mentioned!” Blinking, Jameson listened further to his colleague, until a vein surfaced along his temple. “Stop comparing us! J. Jonah Jameson rolls off the tongue better! Just ask our sponsors! Now, shut up, Jared!”
Inhaling deeply, Jameson let out a content sigh and grinned while Mysterio waved to the crowd in the background. “If I seem happier than usual, ladies and gentlemen, it’s because nothing brings me more joy than being validated in my efforts and seeing justice prevailing by the end of the day. I’ve been warning you all about Spider-Man since the day he first showed up in New York.” Lifting a finger, the man pointed directly at the camera. “Now, look at him! His ego is so fragile that he’s now openly attacking other performers for being far more entertaining than he ever was! I’m grateful that pompous little hotshot finally picked on someone his own size and got flattened for it!”
Sobering, Jameson narrowed his gaze and removed the thick cigar from the corner of his mouth. “Sadly, our local law enforcement weren’t able to find and detain Spider-Man in the aftermath, meaning he could strike again. As of this morning, the police have issued another warrant for Spider-Man’s arrest and will increase their efforts to apprehend him, should he choose to show his face again.” The older man’s broad smile diminished slightly as he nodded. “If you see Spider-Man, do not engage. Just leave it to the professionals. We will keep you posted on any new developments. This is Just the Facts with J. Jonah Jameson!”
Peter sat in the confines of his room with a blank expression on his face. He glared daggers at the television screen displaying his imposter’s image, while the corner of his mouth curled into a snarl. Aunt May soon peeked her head inside, arching a brow at the sight of her nephew as he repeatedly pressed the rewind and playback button on the remote in his grasp. The process continued for what seemed like minutes, until the device cracked, crumbling with pieces remaining stuck on his palm. May cleared her throat, seemingly freeing the boy from his self-induced trance.
Peter alternated his gaze between what remained of the broken remote and his aunt, chuckling sheepishly. “Uh, don’t worry, I can fix that.” He paused, brushing his hands free before exhaling harshly. “As matter of fact, I bet I can’t! You watched the show! I know it looks bad, but I swear that it wasn’t me! I was there with Trixie when that stupid phony showed up! My name is already mud, and I now have some schmuck impersonating me.” The boy’s eyes widened before he winced, slamming his eyes shut as if expecting a fatal blow to come at any given moment. “You probably already called SHIELD. I wouldn’t blame you, since I went all Man-Spider on everyone! So, get it over with! I know Fury’s around the corner, lurking like the creepy stalker that he is!”
Blinking, May rolled her eyes before she offered a plate of cookies to the boy. “Honey, I watched the video and knew it wasn’t you. Whoever that was is too tall.” After placing the treats down onto the bed, she pointed at the screen. “You were already sitting in the front row with your bright blue-skinned friend. That’s pretty hard to miss.”
“Oh,” Peter dumbly muttered, trailing off as the fumes emitting from the batch of cookies entered his senses. The boy quickly yielded to his never-ending hunger and began scarfing down the treats, practically inhaling them within seconds. Once the tray was clean, Peter shrugged. “Well, I’m sure some of the others will think I’m the bad guy.”
“Like the creepy stalker?” a man’s voice deadpanned, causing both Peter and May to jump in place. They both looked around, attempting to find the source. Before long, Peter’s eyes widened at the sight of his phone’s screen lighting up, with Fury’s face at the center. “If I knew or assumed you went off the rails of your own choosing, I’d have my team on top of you a thousand times over.”
Exasperated, Peter took his phone in hand while his brow twitched involuntarily. “You know you aren’t helping the creepy vibes case when you pull stuff like this, right?” Glancing to the side, Peter grumbled under his breath. “You’re usually far more intimate than this. What made you call instead of invading my physical personal space?”
Ever stoic, Fury merely huffed. “Believe it or not, Parker, you aren’t the most important thing in my life. I have many obligations that I have to uphold, outside of one kid in an isolated town.” The man seemingly smirked as Peter grumbled incoherently, allowing his cheek to rest against his fist. “If it's any consolation, I knew it wasn’t you that attacked the show. The fake didn’t move quite like you normally do.”
Pausing, as if contemplating Fury’s words, Peter smugly grinned. “Oh? I see what you mean. Like, the imposter didn’t have that Spidey razzle dazzle and flare? The way I move is like an art?”
“Hell no! I mean he didn’t twitch around like a giant bug,” Fury bluntly declared, all hints of humor leaving his voice before a mock smile surfaced on his face, “Best of luck figuring this out, kid.”
The phone’s screen went dark, as an awkward silence filled the room. Bemused, Peter stared blankly at nothing in particular and groaned inwardly. “I really, really hate that guy.”
Clouds spread over Canterlot City, hiding the sun beneath a gray blanket. Peter slowly approached the arena with a furrowed brow, staring intently at the hundreds of citizens that stood in several lines outside of the ticket booths. His mind raced, attempting to make sense of the situation while he pocketed Otto’s shades. However, before the boy could truly sink into his thoughts, a dainty blue hand reached out until it was inches from his face and waved repeatedly.
“Earth to Parker!” Trixie loudly hummed, managing a smile once the boy's bewildered gaze met her own. The girl shook her head before placing both hands over her hips, nodding confidently. “I’m amazed, Bumpkins! You actually showed up and on time! Keep it up, and you’ll soon be back in Trixie’s good graces! You should–” she paused, narrowing her gaze, “When was the last time you cut your hair?”
“Does it matter? I’ve cut it once since I moved here. It’s hardly any longer than usual,” Peter snapped, grumbling while running a hand through his hair.
Trixie frowned, shaking her head. “Please keep it trimmed. I think you’re much more handsome when it's short.”
“Yeah. Whatever. I’ll just– Wait, really?” Peter whispered, his brain slowly but surely registering the compliment.
Stammering, Trixie huffed while the temperature in her face rose until her cheeks glowed to a shade of pink. “Stop making everything out to be rocket science. Just cut your stupid hair as soon as you get the chance. Trixie will not associate herself with a slob.”
Peter poked his lips out before raising his hands, waving them with mock enthusiasm. “What’re you? My aunt? Eh, whatever. I’ll make sure to look presentable for Her Highness.”
“It would be most appreciated,” Trixie hummed, nodding earnestly.
Exhaling harshly, the boy stole a glance at the crowd and security guards keeping them in line. “Meh. Anyways, I’m surprised your father still wants to keep the show going, after what happened with Spider-Man.”
“Hardly anything deters my father, once his mind is set. If anything, the inconvenience seems to only motivate him further,” Trixie huffed, motioning her hand to beckon the boy to follow before turning towards the nearest entrance into the arena. Soon, the pair made their way inside after consulting with security. The second they were alone, Trixie crossed her arms and stopped in her tracks. “Keep this between us, Parker, but I just know that whoever attacked my father was not Spider-Man.”
Taken aback, Peter’s eyes widened at the statement. “Um, what makes you say that? It sure looked like it to me.”
Scoffing, the girl vehemently shook her head while waving a finger disapprovingly. “Only because you are uneducated and misinformed, but Trixie is well-informed, with a keen eye for detail.”
Retrieving a rolled up poster from her jacket pocket, she stretched out the paper and held it inches from Peter’s face. At the center was an image of Spider-Man, garbed in a much simpler version of his costume, without the white extensions. He raised a motorcycle high overhead, balancing it with a finger. A wave of nostalgia rushed over Peter as he read the ‘Sensational Spider-Man’ labeled at the top of the poster, evident by his softened gaze. However, Trixie turned around and rolled the poster back up, freeing the boy from his self-induced trance.
“Before he came to Canterlot City, Spider-Man was a live performer and wrestler. No matter the stunt, he always engaged with the crowd and opponent with verbal cues,” she stated, brushing her hands together.
“So, he talks a lot?” Peter dumbly suggested, frowning.
Trixie shook her head, exhaling. “Yes, but unlike your pointless babbling, Spider-Man’s banter is witty and charismatic! During his debut with the undefeated Bonesaw, he used mental warfare and got in his head!”
Arching a brow, Peter forced a chuckle under his breath and used a free hand to hide his smile. “You sound like a fan. Plus, I didn’t think you liked pro wrestling. I still like it myself.”
“Then you appreciate it unlike most! We all know it’s scripted, but the performance is real! It’s acting with athleticism, stupid!” the girl exclaimed, clenching her hand into a fist. After a brief duration, she inhaled deeply and sighed before glancing to the side. “I still am a fan. It’s just a shame that he was forced to retire from show business, just as his career was beginning to blossom. That scoundrel, Jameson, gave him such bad PR that he was virtually unhireable. It didn’t help that he refused to reveal his identity, even then, but considering how bad his reputation is now, it might be a blessing in disguise.”
Peter furrowed his brow and hummed. “I’m sure he had his reasons.”
Trixie soon continued walking ahead, holding her gaze at the ceiling. “You’re right, whatever they may be. Just do me a favor. I know you listen to his podcast, but take it from Trixie when she says take anything that Jameson says with a mountain of salt, especially when it comes to Spider-Man.”
Slow to respond, Peter allowed his smile to show as a flurry of thoughts ran rampant through his mind. “What is it about Spider-Man having the most unlikely of fans? I mean, Flash, Fluttershy, and even Trixie? It’s so weird.” The boy cleared his throat before joining back with the girl, arching a brow soon afterward, “So, is that why you called me here? To talk about Spider-Man?”
“It wasn’t just that. Trixie wanted to personally tell you that she got us extra tickets for tomorrow night’s show. It’s not fair that your first time seeing my father’s performance was ruined by an imposter trying to make Spider-Man look bad,” she stated, her usually firm voice falling to a whisper.
Peter scratched the back of his head sheepishly, stammering. “Wow. That’s actually really nice of you. Uh… thanks.”
Snorting, Trixie waved a hand dismissively. “I mean, don’t get the wrong idea. My father insisted, and he really wanted to talk with you personally. I haven’t the foggiest idea why. He’s being unusually tight-lipped about it.”
Bemused, Peter’s blank expression returned. “I should have known. There’s always a string attached with you. Oh, well.”
Trixie immediately stopped in her tracks once, snapping around until she stood inches away from Peter. She glared at him, raising a finger objectively. “Stop right there. I’ve put up with this for some time, and it needs addressing! Is it really so hard that I want to see a show with you, and that my father being insistent on seeing you are two entirely different matters?”
Snorting, Peter growled. “You just told me not to get the wrong idea. What are you even going on about?”
Suddenly, Trixie exhaled at the top of her lungs and threw her hands over her face. “You are so dense and stuck up! It’s obvious that I like hanging out with you, even when you’re a complete jerk half of the time!”
“Maybe if you didn’t treat me like a minion most of the time, I’d lighten up! You always contradict yourself!” Peter exclaimed, standing his ground. “I can never tell if you like or hate me!”
“Perhaps I feel both ways about you!” Trixie exclaimed, huffing before resuming her path down the hall. The boy steadily followed in silence, with both individuals visibly agitated with each other. However, Trixie let out a harsh sigh after a few seconds. “I wouldn’t waste my time if I didn’t like you. It’s just that you make it really easy to hate you sometimes. Anytime we try to hang out with you, there’s an excuse to avoid us on your end. It’s like we’re an inconvenience but… I’m still trying.”
Peter opened his mouth, ready to respond, but nothing could be said, as the girl’s words sank into the depths of his mind. Similar sayings from Doctor Octavious, Spitfire, and Aria also echoed throughout his cranium, bringing up his self-isolation tendencies. Peter’s brow lowered, reflecting on choices made since coming to Canterlot City, and he found truth in Trixie’s words. A desolate sigh escaped from the boy’s mouth before he folded his arms, lowering his head shamefully.
Eventually, the pair reached a door at the end of the hallway with a golden star placed at the center. “Either way, try to behave yourself,” Trixie firmly declared as she placed a hand over the knob, pausing to shift her line of sight towards the boy, “Like Trixie stated, you come off as abrasive and rude half of the time. For once, try not to put your foot in your mouth.”
Peter’s frown deepened at the comment, prompting Trixie to return the gesture in kind. The pair stood in this staredown for what seemed like an eternity, a classic case of the irresistible force meeting the immovable object. However, Peter eventually yielded, while a defeated and exasperated groan escaped from his mouth. Bearing his teeth, the boy’s face cracked as he forced a grin, and Trixie nodded, seemingly satisfied with the act. Soon, they entered the room and caught sight of Jackpot sitting in front of a mirror.
Swinging his head to the side, the older man let out a content sigh upon sharing a glance with his daughter. “Ah! Excellent timing, Pumpkin! And you brought Mister Parker!” he exclaimed, standing from his seat before offering his hand. “I do humbly apologize for what happened. I was simply swarmed after what had happened.” The boy accepted the gesture, giving the lightest squeeze he could muster, yet Jackpot winced, shaking feeling back into his hand once they parted. However, he still managed a chuckle. “I must say that is quite a grip you’ve got.”
Stammering, Peter’s mind raced as he chuckled sheepishly. “Oops! Sorry! I’m just a little nervous. Spider-Man attacked you, and you pushed him back like it was nothing! How did you manage to do that?” He paused, furrowing his brow. “Do you even know why he attacked you?”
Jackpot smirked, twirling his fingers until flickers of emerald flame danced above his hand. “Years of practice in the art of predigitation. Unfortunately, I am unable to share my secrets.”
“Just as I mentioned before!” Trixie huffed, frowning deeply as she stared intently at Peter, “Never pry about a magician’s secrets!”
Chuckling, Jackpot waved a hand dismissively. “Do try to relax, Pumpkin. Curiosity towards the unknown is healthy.” The man cleared his throat before straightening his posture. An air of seriousness came over him, evident by his stern expression. “There is something I’d like to ask of you, and forgive me if it’s rather sudden. My next showcase isn’t until tomorrow night, and my tour of Canterlot City will only last a few days, before I am forced to resume my travels. Would you like to join our family for dinner tonight?”
“What?!” Trixie blurted out, her complexion growing cold, “F-Father! I-Is that really a good idea?”
Oblivious, Peter blinked while scratching the back of his head. “Really? I’m flattered, but are you sure? I wouldn’t want to be a third wheel.”
“Nonsense! I’d be happy to make your acquaintance personally!” Jackpot reaffirmed with glee, smiling widely, “My daughter talks about you so much, and she’s even mentioned your insatiable appetite. I implore you to humor me!”
Slow to respond, Peter hesitantly nodded. “Sure thing. That, uh, sounds nice.”
Jackpot’s expression brightened, apparent by his toothy grin. “Excellent! I’ll make accommodations! Would seven o’clock suffice?” Just before anything else could be said, the man’s brow furrowed as the earpiece within his lobe beeped. Raising a finger, Jackpot hastily made his way towards the door before facing Peter once more. “Excuse me. I am needed elsewhere, but we’ll see you tonight! Good day!”
Both men shared a nod and wave before Jackpot exited the vicinity. Once certain the older individual was out of hearing range, Peter hummed inwardly and managed a smile. “You know, I was expecting your dad to be a spitting image of you, but he seems super friendly. It’s actually a little jarring. It’s weird that I’m actually looking forward to having dinner.”
Trixie whined, biting down on her lip. “I don’t know, Peter. This probably isn’t such a good idea.”
Tilting his head to the side, a befuddled expression filled the boy’s face. “What’s with you all of a sudden? Usually, you push for me to try hanging out. I mean, you’ve never mentioned your parents or your home. From what I can tell, you have a cool dad.”
“Certainly, yes. My father is excellent, if not a little overbearing,” Trixie murmured, crossing her arms, while her gaze lowered to the ground shamefully.
Peter shrugged, chuckling. “It just means he loves you. My Aunt May’s the same way, so I get that it’s embarrassing. After tonight, I’ll invite you over and make it even. May would love to meet you. Plus, you’ll get to see Aria’s room. She’s surprisingly a neat freak.”
A soft smile formed on the girl’s face. “I… Trixie will hold you to that.”
A buzzing sound emitted from Peter’s back pocket, prompting the boy to slide the phone free and into his grasp. Scrolling through the small wall of text on its screen, he nodded and huffed. “Speaking of, May needs some eggs. I’ll head home for a bit and catch you later.”
Trixie’s demeanor continued to shrink as her shoulders slumped, but she shook her head, clearing her throat with a forced cough. “Yes. Go home and freshen up. The last thing I want is for you to come dressed like the mongrel you are.”
“Fine. I’ve got a pair of slacks I can iron out,” Peter barked, walking past Trixie. Halfway through the door, a thought struck the boy’s mind, and he grinned, nodding. “I just realized that I’ll get to meet your mom, too. See ya later.”
A nervous hint of laughter escaped from the girl as she watched Peter’s image fade from sight. Soon, a sense of dread overtook Trixie, apparent by her softening gaze. She stood in silence with her arms crossed, cursing the fates for leaving her to her own devices.
Once certain no one could hear her, Trixie inhaled deeply and let out a defeated sigh. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of…”
To be continued…