It all started from a dumpster behind Midtown High School. "Could this day get any worse?" Peter Parker spoke to himself as he went to the trash receptacle, trying to find his backpack those dudes threw out the window. Holding his nose and scanning the pile of garbage, there were soggy cardboard, last week's lunch, abandoned project from Mister Andrew's class. And there it was! His backpack laying next to a dead man(?) in some sort of black leather and armor clothing with a broken neck. Totally normal.

Basically Spidey short stories, they're probably trash but it's trash that I worked hard on. I do not own Marvel, or any of the characters. They belong to Marvel and our beloved Stan Lee. I DO NOT WRITE SMUT!