- General 3rd POV -
Spider-Man, Spider-Man
Does whatever a spider can!
Spins a web, any size
Catches thieves just like flies!
Look out!
Here comes the Spider-Man
A man walking through a crowded street suddenly snatches a woman's purse and takes off running. She screams for help when suddenly Spider-Man swings by her, her hair blowing from the wind left in his wake. With an impressive flip, he lands in front of the purse snatcher, who runs into him and knocks himself out. Spider-Man webs him to the ground, picking up the purse and handing it to the woman. She thanks him as he leaves, off to help another citizen of New York City.
Is he strong? Listen, bud:
He's got radioactive blood
Can he swing from a thread?
Take a look, overhead!
Hey there
There goes the Spider-Man
A little boy is tearing up, standing under a utility pole, and pointing up at his cat, who is stuck at the very top. He cries for help, but no one can do anything but call the fire department. A bird lands next to the cat, startling it and causing it to fall off the utility pole. The boy cries out, people gasp in shock, but Spider-Man swoops in, gently catching the falling feline. He lands on the ground to applause and cheers. Even the cat licks his face in gratitude. He hands the cat to the boy, now crying tears of joy and saying his thanks. Spider-Man gives the little boy a high-five and pets the cat before taking off to help another citizen of New York City.
In the chill of night
At the scene of a crime
Like a streak of light
He arrives, just in time!
Inside a bank, the alarm is going off as five masked gunmen rob the place. The patrons of the bank are on the floor, face down, trying to be invisible, hoping the men will take the money and go. The men are spread out around the bank, each in charge of something different; one of them is in charge of being the lookout by the entrance, two of them are in charge of crowd control, and the last two are in charge of opening the vault and taking its contents. Suddenly, the lights go out, and the windows are covered one by one, plunging the bank into darkness. Over the next minute, the hostages hear the sound of the gunmen shouting, guns clattering, and an odd sound best described as 'thwip' before the lights come back on, revealing the five gunmen webbed up and hanging from the ceiling along with Spider-Man. He opened the bank doors, and all the hostages rushed out, all of them thanking him on their way out before he took off to help another citizen of New York City.
Spider-Man, Spider-Man
Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man
Wealth and fame, he's ignored
Action is his reward
An old lady using a walker and carrying a bag of groceries stood at the crosswalk. When it was time to cross, she and everyone else began walking, but unlike everyone else, she was not fast. She ambled across the crosswalk, but even as the countdown neared zero, she wasn't even halfway across. She looked worried, hating causing trouble for others. In her hurry, she dropped her groceries, having to stop and pick them up. The light turned green, but she still hadn't moved, so the cars started honking at her. She began tearing up, trying to go as fast as she could, when a gloved, red hand started to help her. Spider-Man told her it was going to be okay. He picked up her groceries and bagged them, even saying something to the driver who had honked at her. He helped her cross the street and even took the time to walk her home, chatting with her all the way there before taking off to help another citizen of New York City.
To him, life is a great big bang-up
Wherever there's a hang-up
You'll find the Spider-Man!
~
New York
August 21, 20:30 EDT
"The past few hours felt like a montage that's in the background while a theme song plays." Peter mused out loud, drinking some water as he took a breather atop a water tower. "Anyway, I should look into Venom. It'd be bad if every thug and goon were running around using the stuff. Should call Detective Daniels and see what he can tell me."
He took out his Spider-Phone, which he had personally created by upgrading and improving an older Wayne phone, making it practically impossible for anyone to track or hack.
"This is Daniels."
"Detective. I want to play a game." said Peter, covering his mouth to muffle his voice.
"Hey, Spider-Man. You've been busy."
"How'd you know it was me?" he asked, not muffling his voice.
"I have your number saved."
"Oh. Right." said Peter, a little embarrassed.
"So, what do you need?"
"Can't a guy call just to check in on his source inside the NYPD? See how he's doing?" he asked, lying down. "Seen any good movies lately? Heard Smunglins 4 was pretty good."
"I'm a little busy here, so-"
"Wait!" said Peter. "I wanted to ask you about Venom. Who makes it, who supplies it, where's it come from, everything."
"Heard about your little run-in with a Venomed mobster. Looks like even that wonder drug isn't enough to go toe to toe with you." said Daniels.
"Are you flirting with me, Detective? Cause I don't swing that way. Get it?"
"Unfortunately, there's not much I can tell you." said Daniels, ignoring his joke.
"Classified stuff? You're piquing my interest." he said, sitting up.
"It's not that it's classified, it's that we have practically nothing."
"Nothing? Like nothing, nothing?" asked Peter, surprised.
"Yeah."
"How? It's a drug. You must have caught some dealers or users who have information to trade for a lesser sentence."
"That's the thing. We can't catch them."
"Can't catch them?" said Peter before realizing why. "Because of the Venom."
"Exactly. As soon as they get a whiff of police, they inject themselves with the stuff and go nuts. It always ends with them escaping or dying by cop since the drug makes them lose their reasoning."
"Now that you mention it, the mobster was talking weird after injecting himself." said Peter, thinking back on his encounter. "I thought it was just his public school education."
"But now, thanks to you, that mobster is the first Venom user we've gotten in custody. The fact that he's part of the Monteleone Crime Family, who practically control all of the city's drug trade, means they might be the distributors of Venom."
"You don't think they're the ones making it?" asked Peter.
"Not sure, but it's definitely not their MO. They're distributors, not suppliers. They also haven't made any moves that would support that theory."
"True. If they were the ones making Venom, why sell it? Why not keep it for yourself and muscle in on everybody else's turf? With an army of tanks, what could everybody else do?" said Peter.
"My thoughts exactly. If they were the ones making it, we'd have a mafia war on our hands. The Scarapellis sure as hell wouldn't let the Monteleones get any more turf."
"I see." said Peter. "So, does that mean the NYPD is going to start surveilling the Monteleones?"
"The wheels of bureaucracy turn slowly, Spider-Man." he said, lowering his voice. "And you didn't hear it from me, but they have people in the NYPD, so I doubt it'll happen anytime soon if at all."
"Figures." said Peter, shaking his head. "Can you give me a location the Monteleone's operate out of so I can do my own investigation?"
"Of course I can't, Spider-Man. That would be illegal." said Daniels. "It would be illegal for me to tell you that there is a restaurant in Little Italy called Nuovo Vesuvio that is a front for the Monteleones. I just couldn't do something like that. It goes against my moral code."
"Thanks, Detective. I'll wrap them up in a nice little bow for you." he said, smiling under his mask.
"I'll be waiting by the chimney." said Daniels.
"Alright, that's what I'm talking about. A little back and forth, a little repartee, or as the French say, tête-à-tête." said Peter. "It's not bad, but you need to work at it some more."
"I'll keep that in mind. Good luck, Spider-Man." said Daniels, hanging up the call, but Peter could tell he was smiling.
'Break time's over.' he thought, standing up and stretching.
As he was about to take off towards Little Italy, his personal phone rang. He checked and saw it was Teresa calling, which surprised him since she preferred communicating through text.
"What's up?" asked Peter.
"Where are you?" she asked.
"At a friend's house. Why?" said Peter.
He had already told his parents he would be late because he was going to hang out at Ronnie's house, so he used the same lie with Teresa.
"When are you coming home?"
"I don't know. Two, three hours, maybe. What's wrong? Are you okay?" he asked, ready to rush home.
"Relax, I'm fine." she said, and Peter swore he could hear her eyes rolling. "I just want you to pick us up some ice cream."
"Zatanna's over?" asked Peter, noticing she said 'us.'
"Yeah. She was talking my ear off earlier, but she's oddly quiet right now."
"Teri!" Zatanna's voice came through faintly, as if she were far away from the phone.
"Her throat might be sore. I can pick up some throat lozenges if she wants." said Peter.
" ... sometimes I seriously doubt whether you are a genius." she said, sounding exasperated. "No lozenges, just get me a pint of Dark Knight Brownie Bite and a Golden Lasso Twirl for Zatanna."
"Oka-"
"Wait, Dad's yelling something." she said, followed by the sound of her getting up from her bed and going out into the hallway coming through. "What'd you say, Dad?! Yeah, I'm on the phone with him! I told him to buy us some ice cream on his way home! You want a Krypton Krunch?! And a Sea Salt & Storm Swirl for Mom?! Okay! Did you hear that?"
"Hard not to. Krypton Krunch for Dad, and Sea Salt & Storm Swirl for Mom. Got it."
"And?"
"Dark Knight Brownie Bite for you and Golden Lasso Twirl for Zatanna."
"Good. Oh, and get something for Dexter, he gets sad when he gets left out." she said as the sound of Dexter meowing was heard.
"Okay. I'll buy them on my way home." he said, shaking his head in amusement.
"'Kay. Later." she said, hanging up.
"Love you too." he mumbled, putting the phone away.
'Wonder what kind of flavor I'd get if I joined the Justice League?' he thought, jumping off and starting to swing his way to Little Italy. 'Web Whirl, something with marshmallow? Friendly Neighborhood Fudge, chocolate with red and blue sprinkles, and brownie? Spidey Sorbet? Well, that one's pretty self-explanatory.'
~
Little Italy is a neighborhood and ethnic enclave in Lower Manhattan, located north of Chinatown, and is named after its dominant Italian American population. Just like Chinatown is filled with the spirit of the Chinese community, Little Italy is filled with the spirit of the Italian community; it's also home to Peter's favorite place to get a cannoli.
'God, I love cannolis.' he thought, scarfing down a cannoli atop a rooftop.
Little Italy was home to Peter's favorite place to get a cannoli, Russo's Bakery. All the swinging, vigilantism, and helping out the citizens of New York had made him pretty hungry, so he stopped in to buy some cannolis. The bakery employees were surprised to see Spider-Man walk in, but aside from asking for a picture and a signature to hang up on the wall, they treated him like a regular guy; though they did give him an extra cannoli on the house.
'This is going to be tricky.' he thought, taking a bite out of a cannoli as he looked down, surveilling the Monteleone front Detective Daniels mentioned.
Besides being a front, Nuovo Vesuvio was a very popular and trendy restaurant. At least, Peter assumed so since both the interior and exterior seating were full, and there was still a line of people waiting to be seated. The people in line and the ones seated also didn't look like they were mobsters, just regular people eating at a restaurant they have no idea is a front.
'Maybe I can wait until they close.' he thought, taking out his phone and looking up the restaurant to check the hours of operation. 'Or not. If I'm still out at 1 a.m., Mom will freak.'
He began contemplating whether he should go home and then sneak out so his mom wouldn't worry about him when he noticed a very nice SUV pull up to the restaurant. The doors opened, and out came four men dressed in suits. Thanks to a little tingle from his spider-sense, he could tell that the four men were armed.
'Come on, lucky mobsters. Show me the drugs.'
Two of them stayed by the SUV, constantly looking around for any threats, while the other two walked into the restaurant. A couple looked like they were about to complain, but one look from the mobster shut them down. After a few minutes of waiting, during which Peter finished his cannolis, the two mobsters each came out carrying two big plastic bags filled with takeout containers.
'I don't know what's in those containers, but it sure isn't food.' he thought, turning on his thermal imaging.
The takeout containers weren't hotter than anything else around them, suggesting that there was no hot food in them. And the way the plastic bags were being stretched meant whatever was in there was heavy.
'Unless they have an entire room temperature roasted pig, bones and all, in those containers, there's no way they would be that heavy.' he thought, turning off the thermal imaging. 'Better follow them. Not like the restaurant is going anywhere.'
Once all four mobsters were back in the SUV, they took off. Peter followed after them, choosing to run across the rooftops rather than swing since, with weekend traffic, they were moving at a snail's pace.
'This reminds me of that one mission in the first game where you have to follow a taxi.' he thought. 'Is it weird that I think being shot at would make this better?'
Though a little bored, he continued to follow them. They took a few turns here and there, which Peter assumed was meant to throw off any potential tails, until they stopped outside New York City Marble Cemetery.
'Aw, thought they would be doing a moonlit drug deal in Central Park by Slaughter Lake or in an abandoned warehouse down by the pier.' he thought, landing on a rooftop with a good view of the SUV and the cemetery.
He saw the mobsters exit the SUV and look around for a few seconds before they entered the cemetery. He was about to move closer so he could overhear any conversation they might have when his spider-sense tingled, but not from danger.
From being watched.
It was something he had experienced a few times since he started operating around the city as Spider-Man. Someone would be recording him with a cell phone or watching him from afar with a camera, hoping to take some pictures, and his spider-sense would react. The first time he felt it, he initially thought he was in danger, but almost immediately, he instinctively knew his spider-sense was reacting because he was being watched.
He quickly turned around, preemptively shooting webbing in the direction he felt he was being watched from, only for it to hit nothing but air until it hit the side of a building. He looked around but couldn't see anyone, and the fact that the tingle had gone away meant that whoever was watching him was no longer doing so.
'Hopefully that was just some reporter looking for a big scoop.' he thought, still looking around, trying to find whoever had been watching him. 'Best to take some laps around the city before going home, though. My spider-sense should warn me if I'm being followed, but I'd rather not risk putting my family in danger.'
As much as he wanted to find out who had been watching him, he had other matters to attend to.
Turning back to look at the cemetery, he could see the four men were nowhere to be found. He saw that the SUV was still exactly where it was before, and he hadn't heard any cars pull away.
'Was I chasing after ghosts? Is that why they came to a cemetery?' he thought, jumping down onto a light pole before jumping into the cemetery.
He looked around, seeing a few trees, marble tablets on the ground, and larger monuments and markers. He thought being in a cemetery at night would feel spooky or have a creepy ambiance, but instead, it felt peaceful as if he were at a park.
He had landed by the entrance on a gravel path that led to a big mausoleum, but there was also an information placard standing in his way that he decided to read.
'Looks like due to outbreaks of yellow fever in the 1800s, earthen burials were outlawed, and two cemeteries with underground marble burial vaults came to be. Despite the cemetery being located in Manhattan proper, there are over two hundred underground vaults, each containing more than one deceased. The mausoleum at the end of the gravel pathway is the final resting place of the first owner and the constructor of the marble vaults.' he summarized. 'Huh, the more you know.'
Interesting as it may have been, he was not there for a history lesson. He crouched down, looked at the gravel pathway, and saw footprints that led to the mausoleum. There was no way for him to know if they were left behind by the mobsters or by history buffs earlier in the day, but it was his only lead.
He walked the path, quickly reaching the mausoleum. Looking closely, he noticed the doors of the mausoleum were slightly ajar, so he put his ear up to the crack and focused. He could faintly hear a variety of voices with two distinct accents. One he easily recognized as being from New York, while the other he could only assume was from somewhere in Latin America.
'Let's hope they've oiled these hinges.'
He slowly opened the door but stopped when his spider-sense tingled, letting him know that it was about to creak.
'It's a tight fit, but it'll do.'
Squeezing his way in, he could see that it was empty; unlike the ones outside, which were underground, the interior of the mausoleum had two above-ground marble coffins. The two were identical except that the one on the right had been moved backwards, revealing a set of stairs that led further underground.
'A tunnel under an old coffin, how cliche.'
He descended the stairs and entered a tunnel that ended in a lit room. The voices he heard earlier were much clearer now that he was in the tunnel. He hopped, sticking to the ceiling before crawling toward the room.
"Enough catching up. Shall we get down to business?" asked a man with a Latin American accent.
"Sure." said one of the men with a New York accent that Peter assumed was one of the four mobsters he had been following.
As the sound of plastic bags rustling was heard, Peter reached the entrance, giving him a better look at the room. The room was an underground crypt made of brick that had turned white from age, old unlit metal lanterns hung from the ceiling, knee-high LED lights lined the walls, and further in the room was an old marble altar as well as an opening that led deeper into the crypt.
Standing around the marble altar were the four mobsters on one side and another four men on the other side, who were all wearing black cadet caps. He also noticed that one of them was carrying a large metal briefcase.
On the altar were the takeout containers, which had been opened, revealing they were chock-full of money.
'That's not food.' thought Peter. 'Unless you're a silverfish.'
"Is there anything more beautiful than money?" asked one of the drug dealers, smiling.
"That Venom of yours." replied the mobster.
"Hahaha! Yes, it is beautiful." he said, looking at the man with the briefcase.
He placed the briefcase on the table and opened it, turning it around so the mobsters, and Peter, could see the contents.
'That's a lot of Venom.' thought Peter, counting at least twenty vials.
"Now that's what I call a thing of beauty." said the mobster, smiling as he picked out one of the vials before putting it back and closing the briefcase. "Almost makes me want a taste."
"Would you mind if I have a taste?" said Peter, snatching the briefcase with his web. "Sharing is caring."
"Spider-Man!" shouted the mobster in anger as he and the other mobsters took out their guns.
"That's my name, don't wear it out." he said, webbing the briefcase to the ceiling of the crypt.
"Help us kill him, and the boss will double our usual purchase!" said the mobster to the drug dealers.
"Double?" said the drug dealer, smiling as he and his men also took out their guns. "Don't worry, we're used to killing arañas."
"I don't think you've ever seen an araña this big. Or this handsome." said Peter while using the wall as a springboard to launch himself towards the mobsters.
He had chosen to engage them up close, so they could no longer use their guns unless they wanted to shoot each other. It would also be much faster to take them down.
He landed in front of the mobsters, low to the ground, and leg swept the supposed leader, knocking him out once he had hit the ground. He then blinded the one directly behind the leader with a ball of webbing to the eyes. His spider-sense tingled, so he jumped up to the ceiling and avoided a gunshot from the drug dealers.
"I know you boys want to play, but wait your turn." he said, dropping down and doing a split kick, knocking out the other two mobsters.
"Now is it our turn to play?" asked the drug dealer.
"No." said Peter, tilting his head to the left to dodge the punch from the webbed-faced mobster before hitting him in the face with the back of his fist, knocking him out. "Okay, now it's your turn, but only if you promise to share your toys."
"Sorry, we only brought enough for us four." he said as all four of them injected themselves with vials of Venom.
One thing Peter noticed about the vials they used was that the liquid was much redder compared to the ones in the briefcase.
'They must be selling diluted Venom. Hook them with the cheap stuff and then push the good stuff.'
Whether or not the vials they used were purer, they gained a lot of muscle like the mobster in the car had. And because of their excruciating transformation, they dropped the guns in their hands.
"You, toy!" said the drug dealer, pointing at Peter, and then miming breaking something. "We, break!"
"Me, punch. Your, face." said Peter, making his voice gruffer.
Roaring, the four drug dealers rushed Peter, or tried to. Since the crypt wasn't super spacious, they could only advance two at a time.
The leader lunged at Peter, trying to grab him, but he slid through his legs while shooting a line of web at his face that he pulled on as he slid through, toppling him.
"Timber!"
The second one brought his foot down, trying to stomp him, but he grabbed the foot before it could make contact and threw him at the other two, sending the three tumbling.
"Strike!"
The leader tried to leg sweep him, but Peter jumped over the leg, landing on the leader's back as he was getting up, and forced him back to the ground. Meanwhile, the other three were back on their feet. One of them rushed him while the other two picked up their guns again.
His spider-sense was already tingling from the group of three, but then it started tingling from below him. He decided that getting shot was the more serious threat, so he ignored the threat from the leader and snatched the guns with his webs, throwing them toward the entrance and away from them. This let the leader grab hold of his ankles, and the one rushing him to get in close.
"Now die, araña!" shouted the leader as the other's fist landed.
Of course, Peter let himself get hit since even though his ankles were held in place, he was still flexible and fast enough to dodge the hit. He got hit as an experiment. He wanted to see how strong they had become after taking the Venom, and he wanted to compare it to the mobster from earlier to see if he was correct in assuming they had taken a purer form of Venom.
The fist made contact with his face, and he didn't move an inch. The drug dealer, on the other hand, shouted in pain as he pulled back his limp and broken fist.
"Oh my god, dude, I'm so sorry about your hand." said Peter, grimacing a little as he looked at the hand. "I was testing something out, and I thought that because you took Venom, your hand wouldn't break from punching me. Now I feel bad. Let me deal with your friends real quick so I can call an ambulance."
Peter backflipped with enough force that the leader was unable to keep his grip on Peter's ankles and was thrown face-first toward the crypt walls. As Peter was mid-air, he web-zipped to the wall behind the other two, grabbing their heads and slamming them into the wall as he landed.
"Argh!" shouted the drug dealer with the broken hand, throwing a punch at Peter with his non-broken hand.
Peter shot a line of web at the drug dealer's hand as he flipped over and landed behind him. Peter then ran around him, wrapping him up in webbing until he was encased, with only his face remaining visible.
"No dancing! Fight like man!" said the leader as he stood and got into a boxing stance
"Haven't you heard the saying float like a spider, sting like a spider?" said Peter, also getting into a boxing stance.
"Fight!"
The leader threw a straight with his right hand, which Peter slipped while throwing a cross to the body, and following it up with an uppercut that instantly knocked him out.
"Ding ding ding. Spider-Man has knocked out the Venomed drug dealer to become the light heavyweight champion of the world!" said Peter, raising his hands as if a crowd of people were cheering for him.
'This reminds me, I have boxing lessons tomorrow.'
~
Back outside in the cemetery, flashing police lights lit up the small plot of land as uniformed officers, detectives, and crime scene investigators did a sweep of the place.
"So? Pretty good gift, am I right?" Peter asked Detective Daniels, pointing at the seven webbed-up criminals with bows made of webbing on their heads.
The seven were awaiting transport, while the one with a broken hand was taken to the hospital.
"The goons by themselves, 7/10, but the goons and this briefcase full of Venom, that's a 12/10." said Daniels, holding the briefcase.
"Just 12/10? You're a hard man to shop for, Detective."
"Detective." said Officer Wong, walking toward them. "The Captain's asking for you."
"Thanks, Wong." said Daniels, looking back at Peter and shaking his hand. "And thank you again, Spider-Man. You're really making a difference."
"Thank you, Detective." said Peter, genuinely touched.
"You can call me Daniels or Jim, if you'd like."
"Daniels, then." said Peter. "And you can call me Spidey."
"Don't think so."
"Okay, how about S-Man?"
"No."
"SM?"
"Also no."
"Mr. Man?"
"How about Spider-Man?"
"Deal." said Peter, causing Daniels to smile.
"Alright, see you around, Spidey." said Daniels, leaving.
With Daniels gone, it was just Peter and Officer Wong, who was staring a hole in him.
"Officer Wong." he said, nodding at her as he was ready to leave.
"Why do you do what you do?" she asked.
"Sorry?"
"Why are you a vigilante?"
"For justice?" said Peter.
"If it were about justice, you could become a cop. Then you could do it legally. So why are you a vigilante?"
He paused for a second to think of a good and genuine response.
"Because when you can do the things that I can, but you don't, and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you." he said, swinging away and leaving a stunned Officer Wong behind.
~
He left the cemetery and took a few laps around the city in case whoever was watching him still was. His spider-sense didn't warn him that anyone was watching, but he did it just to be safe.
After he was sure no one was following him, he changed out of his suit and stopped at the bodega near his house to pick up the ice cream and cat treat he was tasked with buying. He also bought a pint of Martian Mint-hunter for himself.
"Ice cream's here." he said as he walked into his house.
"Finally. We've been waiting forever. I might as well have walked to the bodgea myself." said Teresa as she and Zatanna, who was carrying Dexter, descended the stairs.
"We wouldn't want the princess to tire herself out, now would we?" said Richard, grabbing the two pints for him and Mary before retreating to the living room. "Mom left some food for you in the fridge."
"You're the best, Mom." said Peter.
"I know." she responded from the living room.
"Hi, Peter." said Zatanna, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"Hey, Zatanna." he said, handing her her ice cream. "Looks like Dexter likes you more than he likes Teri."
"Meow." said Dexter as Peter rubbed under his chin.
"It's not fair." said Teresa, grabbing her ice cream and Dexter's treat. "As soon as she walks in the house, he bolts over to her."
"Maybe she's using magic." said Peter, smiling as he saw Zatanna freeze up.
"Are you using magic that your dad taught you to get Dexter to like you? Because if you are, that's cheating." said Teresa, eyes narrowed at Zatanna.
"The only magic I know is this." she said, pulling out a coin from Teresa's ear.
"Bravo." said Peter, clapping and making Zatanna smile.
"I can teach you whenever you'd like, Peter." said Zatanna.
"Thanks, Zatanna. I'd love to add magic to my repertoire."
"Cool. Awesome. Yeah, whenever you want, just ask. I'll be there." she said.
"Okay ... let's go before you burst a blood vessel." said Teresa, laughing as Zatanna chased her up the stairs.
Peter shook his head in amusement before heading to the kitchen. He put his ice cream in the freezer and took out the plate of chicken picatta and microwaved it. Once it was ready, he sat and scarfed it down.
'Homemade food after a long day. Is there anything better?' he thought, happily eating his food.
~~
AN
Longest chapter yet, wow.
I felt the theme song part reads kind of weird if I'm being honest, but I liked it, so I kept it.
Slaughter Lake sounds like a nice place to see ducks and nothing else.
Who could be watching him? Hm...