Queens.
A car thief deftly slipped a steel ruler into the gap beside a window.
Nervous, he habitually ran his tongue over his lips.
As he worked, the car door clicked.
The lock opened.
Delighted, he reached to open the door.
As he put his hand on the handle, a glob of white, sticky, web-like substance landed on it.
"What the fu..." He tried several times, but couldn't pull his hand free of the door.
He grabbed it with his other hand and pulled hard.
Another strand of webbing shot over, sticking his hands together.
Someone wearing what looked like a suit made from pajamas flipped through the air and landed on the roof.
"You're under arrest, Mr. Thief."
The thief looked bewildered. "Fuck! You did this?"
"I just bought these clothes!"
Okay, wasn't the point that he'd been caught?
This was Peter's first time fighting crime, and he really couldn't follow the man's train of thought.
"Ahem, you should go reflect on your actions at the police station!" Peter declared righteously.
He was probably imagining himself as Captain America.
The thief motioned for Peter to come closer, and Peter innocently obliged.
Through gritted teeth, the thief whispered in his ear, "Fuck you!"
"Okay, your mouth needs to reflect on its actions too." Peter slapped some white goo over the thief's mouth.
He was about to put his hands on his hips and bask in his triumph when a scream came from another street.
"My purse!"
"Sorry, I need to go help someone else first. Don't worry, I've already called the police for you."
Peter kept chattering even as he left. If his mouth hadn't been sealed shut, the thief would have loved to curse the little brat some more.
After being bitten by the spider, Peter had discovered enormous