[for Tony] Look good! Look bad! Look fffffttz.
Once in a while, I wonder what it would be like to be a normal person. What, I think to myself, would I do with my time if I didn't have friends who dragged me up to space stations or never got bit by a radioactive spider (only to lose all those abilities courtesy of a magical island) or didn't have a teenage girl wandering around with my face and the best head of hair in the extended clone family this side of Kaine? Mary Jane provides me with some sense of normalcy, sure, but even she's gotta be just a little wacky to put up with a nutcase like me and my circus of a life.
'Cause, see, when I look at all the crazy things I've done -- really stop to consider them -- it occurs to me that the most unbelievable thing I could ever hope to do is something so mundanely normal your Average Joe wouldn't even think about it twice. That's how far from the norm things are for regular ol' Peter Parker, even on a so-called blank slate. Still, with the pressing concern of Tony's palladium poisoning dealt with, Jessica and I in some sort of awkward holding pattern, and things with Mary Jane better than ever, it felt like the right sort of time to try my hand at one of the Island's more traditional activities. That I thought Tony could probably use a non-bar related distraction given everything that went down at the end of last month just happened to be a fortunate -- or not so fortunate, rather -- coincidence.
With beachside picnics, sunbathing, and strippers dismissed right off the bat, I suggested fishing as a possible alternative for our usual pastime. He, in turn, suggested we try at the dock instead of in a pond. So here we are on a sunny Friday afternoon, not tinkering around in a workshop, but instead sitting at the edge of a dock, our respective homemade fishing gear in hand, and waiting for the first of what'll surely be many bites, because it's fishing, and there's no way we can possibly fail, right?
We last maybe five minutes.
"...this was a terrible idea."
'Cause, see, when I look at all the crazy things I've done -- really stop to consider them -- it occurs to me that the most unbelievable thing I could ever hope to do is something so mundanely normal your Average Joe wouldn't even think about it twice. That's how far from the norm things are for regular ol' Peter Parker, even on a so-called blank slate. Still, with the pressing concern of Tony's palladium poisoning dealt with, Jessica and I in some sort of awkward holding pattern, and things with Mary Jane better than ever, it felt like the right sort of time to try my hand at one of the Island's more traditional activities. That I thought Tony could probably use a non-bar related distraction given everything that went down at the end of last month just happened to be a fortunate -- or not so fortunate, rather -- coincidence.
With beachside picnics, sunbathing, and strippers dismissed right off the bat, I suggested fishing as a possible alternative for our usual pastime. He, in turn, suggested we try at the dock instead of in a pond. So here we are on a sunny Friday afternoon, not tinkering around in a workshop, but instead sitting at the edge of a dock, our respective homemade fishing gear in hand, and waiting for the first of what'll surely be many bites, because it's fishing, and there's no way we can possibly fail, right?
We last maybe five minutes.
"...this was a terrible idea."