Chapter 4: Life at the Luncheon

"Explain to me why your profits have gone down fifty percent, Carradine," I heard from the bug I had placed in Kingpin's main office a few days earlier.

My investigations, spying, and interrogations of his henchmen and capos had confirmed for me that William Fisk was the Kingpin of Crime. He was a large, well-rounded man weighing well over 400 pounds and a large, bald head. Despite his rotund physique, he was composed of mostly muscle that moved with a speed that belied his massive bulk.

It wasn't as if I was surprised, but I wanted to be certain. There were a whole lot of crime lords in New York.

"It's this new vigilante called Spider-Man, Mr. Fisk. He's the one who's ruining most of my operations," the man said.

"Really? What did you do to him that prompted him to attack all of your rackets?"

"I don't know. I have no idea who he really is. But it's not just me who he has attacked. Several of the other capos…"

"Enough! I know all about this Spider-Man. Thus I'm going to have to send someone after him. However, you better get your finances in order."

"Yes, Mister Fisk."

After I heard the door open and close along with departing footsteps, Kingpin's advisor also known as the Arranger began to speak.

"This Spider-Man is beginning to make trouble for all of your operations, Mr. Fisk. He has especially busted up some of the more lucrative prostitution rings by freeing the young girls who didn't want to…"

"Yes, I understand all that! I'm going to have to send an assassin after him."

"And who will that be Mr. Fisk?"

"I'm sending Bullseye against this arachnid. See to it personally, Arranger. And do it quickly."

So the Kingpin was going to send Bullseye against me. Hmm. I figured he would have sent the Big Man and his crew. At any rate, I'll be ready for him.

XXX

The next day, I was having breakfast when I read the newspaper about a chalk white-skinned serial murderer who dressed like a court jester in a purple and green outfit and had a ghoulish grin on his face. According to the victims who survived the whole event, the creature the media was calling the Grinning Goblin had superhuman strength and speed with a bag of tricks and baseball-sized bombs. He had even robbed the First National Bank. While his crazy henchmen took as much money as they could, the creature slaughtered the patrons and people who worked at the bank intermittently.

That sounds like the green goblin. But why was he dressed like a jester? Was that Norman Osborne, his son, or somebody else all together? It looks like I'll have to be ready for anything when dealing with this guy. I might be able to bring this guy in or maybe I'll have to deal with him permanently.

"Anything interesting, Master Peter?" Armand asked as he poured me a cup of coffee.

"Yes, there's a new supervillain with whom I'm going to have to deal. Fortunately, I'll be ready for him."

Then I kept on reading. Seemed the editor of the Daily Bugle, J. Jonah Jameson had a few words to say about me.

[Thanks for joining me today. This is J. Jonah Jameson. This city's at a crossroads where it could go one way or the other on the turn of a dime. There's much to say about a hero who loves this city while shooting through the air and looking out for everybody, bringing hope, light, and justice where none existed. His name's J. Jonah Jameson! You're welcome!]

Can this guy be any more arrogant than he already is?

[There's a menace, a monster, and a blight on our streets. I'm referring to that vigilante called Spider-Man, that Darth Vader wannabe. Don't let him fool you. No, it's not quite or peaceful. It's a disaster on the brink so wake up and listen people! Anyone could be under that Darth Vader getup.]

[He must be stopped at all costs! Where are the Avengers when you need them? And doesn't SHIELD exist for dealing with guys like this?!]

"Well, that's interesting," I said to no one in particular as I ate my breakfast that consisted of scrambled eggs, prosciutto, buttered crescents, berries, and orange juice.

"Don't forget, Master Peter, that you have a luncheon with many of the pillars of society and politicians of the city," Armand said with a knowing look.

"Oh, yes. Thanks for reminding me, Armand."

The high worth of my company and the thousands of people who either worked directly for me or indirectly had prompted a lot of powerful people in the city of New York to invite me to get-togethers like this. I hadn't paid too much attention to these entreaties, but Armand had finally convinced me to arrive at this luncheon. The only problem there was now was which car I should drive to it.

XXX

At the luncheon, I wore my best light blue three piece suit sitting around a table with lace, crystal glasses, and plates made of the finest china along with silver utensils. The food was of the finest quality as were the wine and champagne.

As I looked up, I noticed that the well-lit chandeliers practically sparkled like diamonds. However, as I noticed how pristine clean the place was, someone broke me out of my malaise.

"Hello there, fancy meeting you here. You're the electronics mogul, Peter Parker, aren't you?"

The woman was a tall, curvaceous woman, weighing around 120 and standing at five feet six inches tall. Even though her shoulder-length hair was golden blond and her eyes were ice blue with a busty body that stood at attention, she looked familiar.

"It's Felicia Hardy!" I thought to myself as the woman wearing a white evening gown that flattered her figure looked more like Felicia Hardy from the Spider-Man cartoon that came out in the 1990s than in the comic book. If I hadn't seen the cartoon, I would not have recognized her.

Wasn't there a silver-haired girl in that science expo where that radioactive spider bit me? Come to think of it, there was a dangerously radioactive cat at that expo. It's quite possible Felicia endured being bitten by the radioactive cat and acquired superpowers of her own. Yet somehow she's acquired the ability to shapeshift and disguise herself.

Despite her more golden appearance, she was still strikingly beautiful. And at the same time, she had a look of innocence about her. However, I noticed her frowning at me as I had my eyes zeroed in on her bare shoulders and impressive décolletage.

"My eyes are up here, Mister Parker!"

"Ulp! Sorry about that. Are you enjoying the good wine and food? I heard some of the best chefs in the country have made the spread here," I said trying to change the subject.

"Yeah, well, maybe we'll talk again later," she said while doing an about-face and getting further and further away from me.

Well, I blew that one. However, as I was getting over my failed attempt with Felicia, another chance made her way towards me.

"Peter Parker?"

"Yes?" I answered, surprised to see another familiar face.

"I'm Mary Jane Watson. I used to live next door with your aunt and uncle. I'm sorry they passed away. They were wonderful people who didn't deserve what happened to them."

Mary Jane was a statuesque woman who was fair-skinned with long, sparkling red hair. She had managed to become one of the most famous supermodels in the world. The beautiful woman stood at five feet eight inches tall weighing a slender yet curvaceous 125 pounds with 37-23-35 buxom measurements.

The sight of Mary Jane in her evening wear which consisted of a one-piece, red and black lace dress with long, red and black earrings that fit well with her bright, red hair and green eyes practically mesmerized me. As it was, this lady had turned more than a few heads.

"Thank you for the kind words, Miss Watson."

"Call me Mary Jane. You've really done well for yourself, haven't you, Peter?"

"I try," I answered.

As gorgeous as Mary Jane was in the comics, she looked a whole lot better in person. Not only that, she had a wonderful aroma about her.

Then I tried to be slick. "So have I hit the jackpot?" I said with raised eyebrows.

"Hmm? What makes you say something like that? What kind of girl do you think I am?" she said as she narrowed her eyes at me.

"Well, I…"

"I walk up to you to give you my condolences and you get delusions of grandeur," the lady commented with her hands on her hips.

"Look, I apologize. Let's start over," I said as I admired her.

"Maybe some other time."

I admired her impressive shape and contours as she walked away and mumbled something about oversexed rich guys.

"Hmm, I'm 0 for 2 tonight," I thought as I looked around at some of the other attractive women who mingled with some of the richest men of the city.

As I regarded the music, ambiance, and diamond-shaped chandeliers of the party, I thought about becoming a rich playboy and bachelor who had dozens of women much like Bruce Wayne from DC comics. At that point, a woman who was all business walked towards me.

"Hello there. You're Peter Parker, aren't you?"

"Yes, and you're…"

"I'm Detective Gwen Stacy of the New York Police Department," she answered, showing me her badge.

Gwen Stacy?! Oh, I get it. Since she never dated me earlier, she had more time on her hands. Who'd have thought she'd follow her father's footsteps by becoming a police officer. a detective no less?

"Oh, hello. Did you graduate from Midtown High?" I asked as I admired her shoulder-length, blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and buxom, hard body. Even her arms were larger than most women as her biceps threatened to burst from her dark brown faux double-breasted jacket. In addition to that, she wore a matching skirt that displayed well-formed, muscular legs.

"Yes, I did. It's strange how you vanished off the face of the earth and reappeared a few years later," Gwen asked.

It was obvious to me with the way and grace she moved that she was a martial artist, a fairly strong and good one at that.

"Am I under arrest? It's like you're interrogating me," I responded, wondering what she looked like under all those clothes.

"Oh, I've already investigated you, Mister Parker. For some reason, you stayed in Taiwan after your parents met their demise. Then you came back to America and got your high school GED. Somehow, you multiplied the money you got from your parents by a hundredfold. There's not a single man of wealth who has done as well as you have in such a short time without doing something illegal. Care to explain?"

"I believe I've explained myself pretty well when I had that interview with Ned Leeds of the Daily Bugle," I answered her back while her arms were folded on her impressive chest with her twinkling eyes regarding me shrewdly.

"Did you come to this party just to interrogate everyone or is it just me?"

"There's something unusual about you Mister Parker, something you're holding back from everyone," Gwen answered before walking away.

"Well, that's one, two, three strikes for me this night," I thought as I made my way to the door until I met with someone to whom I would have rather not talked at that moment.

"Peter Parker!"

"Yes?"

"As you might well know, I'm J. Jonah Jameson of the Daily Bugle. You've had a lot of lucrative business dealings over the years."

"That's true. As much as I'd like to talk to you, I need to get going…"

"Hold up for a moment. Julie!" Jonah yelled, prompting a moderately attractive, young woman with shoulder-length dark brown hair to appear with a camera slung over her shoulder.

"Yes, Mister Jameson!" Julie Masters answered.

"I want you to take a picture of me and Peter Parker!"

As I smiled for the camera I thought how strange it was for J. Jonah Jameson to be so friendly with me when in another universe he was constantly screaming and yelling at me. I had also hoped this nice girl wouldn't endanger herself trying to get pictures of Spider-Man.

Then Jonah shook hands with me as Julie kept taking pictures. "It's great having a member of society who worked his way from nothing and did well for himself. I've always said that anyone who works hard and picks himself up by the bootstraps can succeed."

"Well, Mister Jameson. I appreciate your kind words. Any news on that Spider-Man guy you like talking so much about?"

"Don't get me started on that menace, Peter. He'll be the ruination of us all!"

"Does he even exist? What does he look like? Is it possible a bunch of criminals is seeing things?" I asked.

"No, he's real all right. He takes the law into his own hands, defying the police as a vigilante."

"Well, this conversation has been interesting, but I need to go. Good evening, Mister Jameson," I said as I walked away.

At that point, I sensed someone coming from behind me. So as not to let my webbed cape show, I allowed this person to grab my arm.

"Hello, Peter, I'm Wilson Fisk. I'm sure you've heard of me," he said as I turned around to greet him.

William Fisk was huge with a round bald head resembling Vincent D'Onofrio from the Daredevil/Netflix series who played the Kingpin.

"Well, what can I do for you, Mister Fisk?" I said as we shook hands, careful to restrain myself from calling him Kingpin.

"We have a lot in common, you and I," Fisk said without letting go of my hand, squeezing rather hard until I heard a crack.

"Ow! You mean we're both at the same party?" I said while nursing the hand that I had pretended to allow to get broken.

"We're both men of power who worked their way up from the bottom. By the way, do you keep a strict record of all the electronics you sell?" Fisk asked with his eyes boring into me.

"No, as long as my customers pay for what they buy, that's all I care about. Why would you ask me a question like that?"

"No particular reason. I suspect the police or FBI would be tempted to place electronic bugs in my building. I thought maybe they might have bought such things from you."

"Well, there's no way I would refuse the police or FBI. Why would they be placing electronic bugs in your building anyway, industrial sabotage?"

Even though everyone who read the comic book knew Kingpin was a criminal, the world at large wasn't aware of William Fisk's extra-curricular activities. So I had to give the pretense that I also was unaware of Fisk's other activities.

"That's a good question. I hadn't have thought of that." At that point, two of his associates dressed in dark suits and ties showed up and looked me over for a couple of minutes.

"You spend a lot of time working out, don't you?" Fisk asked.

"I spend some time working out. Thanks for noticing."

"Some time?" Fisk asked.

Then I looked to my right and left as if I didn't want anyone else to hear what I was about to say. "Well, I use electronic equipment to moderately electrocute myself, stimulating my muscles to contract and make myself look more muscular so I can impress the ladies."

"Ah, I see. You haven't too much luck with the ladies tonight from what I've seen," Fisk answered with a knowing look.

"This was just a bad night for me. I normally do a whole lot better."

At that point, Fisk rocked his head back and laughed. "That was a good one. Good evening, Mister Parker."

As Fisk did an about-face his two associates did likewise following after him. Then my advanced hearing heard one of them say, "he's not him, Mister Fisk. And from what we've gathered the electronic bugs found in your building don't match the electronics Parker sells."

"I thought as much. His hand was rather weak and easily broken when I grasped it so there's no way a nerd like that could be Spider-Man."

So they found the bugs I had put in there. Well, I'd have to come up with another way of knowing ahead of time what the Kingpin was going to do.

A long time ago, I had figured out how to make my normally limber hands stiff so that when a strong grip took hold of them there would be a crack sound similar to when a stiff joint was getting less stiff. This helped to conceal my heroic identity by making my hands seem weaker than they were.

However, as I finally left, I noticed another lady giving me an appreciative look. The only thing different between her and the others was the fact she was working there as a waitress.

"Is that Cissy Ironwood?" Cissy Ironwood appeared in the Spider-Man newspaper comic as opposed to the comic books at the shops. She was rather tall and curvy with long, blond, 70s' style hair and a body much like a 70's bikini model. She was a raw, natural beauty instead of the polished, refined beauty Felicia Hardy, Mary Jane Watson, and Gwen Stacy was. As I walked away, I sensed good feelings from her. I might have even tried talking to her, but I had done so badly with the other women in Spider-Man's life that I felt it just wasn't my night.