Look 'bad luck' up in the dictionary. Go on. We'll wait. See there? That picture of an awkward college student tripping over his own feet? That's Peter Parker. He's majoring in chemical engineering, and by some stroke of (you guessed it) bad luck, t...
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An atrocity had been committed. It was an act so vile...so reckless, that Peter doubted that he would ever forgive himself. He had eaten that glorious bag of cooked pasta given to him by Annabelle Lee. It was a crime, honestly. Each piece of fettuccine should have been strung across the wall as a momentum...but instead he had scoffed it all down for dinner; not caring that it had grown cold during the long wait or that it was utterly sauceless. Hunger will do that to a man. One minute he's admiring the most valuable gift ever given to him, and the next he's chewing on it to see if it's edible.
Apparently, it was more than edible...but didn't last long. The next day Peter was back to being hungry again, with no food in his fridge and an aching stomach. His long trudge to the homeless shelter certainly didn't help matters either.
Peter shuffled inside the familiar building, trying his best to ignore the rumble of hunger consuming him. The room was relatively large, with chairs and tables lined up for the daily visitors. The scent of cheap soup filled the air and Peter groaned. The irony of a starving man serving starving people wasn't lost on him.
"Peter!" The somewhat weakened voice of his aunt called from across the threshold. She wobbled towards him, smiling brightly and pulling him into a tight embrace. It had been at least a few weeks since he'd last seen her; college, work, and the Spider-Man gig kept him busier than he cared to admit. He felt incredibly guilty about not visiting her more often, but May always insisted that she was fine...whether that was a lie or not Peter couldn't tell. "It's so good to see you!"
"You too, Aunt May." Peter replied with a twinge of regret. He needed to get back into a weekly visiting schedule, despite how little time he had. "Look, I promise I'm gonna get my act together and come see you more often."
"Oh don't be silly. As much as I would like to chain you to my coffee table, it is very clear to me that you are a young man with a job and a college career. I'm so very proud of you, Peter. I wouldn't want you to waste time worrying about little old me." She said, gripping Peter by the shoulders. Knowing full well that Peter was about to argue with her, she quickly moved on. "Anyway, that little Kevin from across the street's shown me how to use my cell phone. The wretched thing's been a paperweight for four years now, but I can finally call you whenever I like."
"Cell phone? What happened to the landline?"
"Well...it was another thing I couldn't afford to have. Not that I needed it in the first place; Mary Jane's Aunt Anna is the only person I talk to these days and she's just around the corner."
As his Aunt pulled away, Peter's gaze lowered. May had been struggling financially ever since Uncle Ben's death. It pained him to see her barely sustaining herself in this last stage of life...she deserved to be comfortable, but she was constantly in debt and never able to dig her way out of it.
Now, at this stage you might be saying 'Hey, that's really sad. Where are the jokes?'. There are none when it comes to his Aunt May. She is a completely no joke zone.
