Todd McFarlane makes his ASM debut with this beauty (and spaghetti webs). David Michelinie whips out the story reintroducing the merc with the.. er.. goofy mask? CHANCE!
Who's the green Iron Man wearing ski goggles?
This noob's a guy called Nicholas Powell- a man who's got a yellow and green spandex suit, modded jet pilot helmet and rocket fuel in his closet. The gimmick? He doesn't take payment for his mercenary work, but prefers to make wagers. If he carries out his job, he gets paid. If he doesn't, then.. he doesn't?
Isn't that how real life works?
It is unless you work for the Australian government, in which case you can set a plastic toy bird to peck at the same key on your keyboard and still cash cheques. However, you have to be the one cashing the cheques, the toy won't actually do that for you.
I'm not kidding when I say that I laughed out loud and reread this series of panels.
It's been a while since I've done that. Especially reading a Spidey book.
MJ's been away for a while modelling and bringing home some serious moolah, but she's got a free weekend. Pete has plans.
Pulling out his most rediculous French accent in nothing but red underpants and a bow-tie, Peter attempts to seduce his beloved Mary Jane..
Only to realise she is with a friend, Sandy who cops an eye-full of a very bashful Mr. Parker.
You did good, Mr. Michelinie. I lost my shit.
Now it's your turn to lose your shit. Brace yourself..
Now I'm not Hulk Hogan, nor am I a trim teen Spidey. Heck, I'd take the body of pre-Spider-Man Peter Parker. Suffice, to say I'm more string than bean and I think I've got more muscle in my Adam's apple than I do in my biceps. However, I know my strengths.
Comedic Slap-Stick.
Last night, after reading too much Spider-Man, I decided that I was the wall crawler. It's a bit nippy here, so I was wearing my thermal pants under my jeans. Hayley was eating on the couch, so I ducked into the bedroom to disrobe (except for my white undershirt tucked into my skin tight thermals). I dashed out, and in one fell leap, I was in the middle of the room, pants up around my nostrils, with a testicle under each armpit. My hands were in classic web-thwipping pose as I bounced around the room like a thirty-five year old mental patient.
She roared with laughter and I kept bouncing about, milking the situation for all it was worth.
Yes, it was funny. No, it will not help you get laid. On with # 298..
Spidey's inevitable encounter with Chance. That's his alter ego. "Chance". How he got into more than one issue, I'll never know.
Pete was down at the pier because of a tip off from Joy who we met last issue. She's trying to help him out by giving him her extra leads and cutting him a slice of the pie. What a sweetheart.
Chance is waging that he'll be able to steal a bunch of weapons and ammo from the dock. The two shall meet and Spidey ends up somersaulting his ass around Chance and allowing for shit to go on for a bit too long. He figures he can milk it for a bit of extra coin and sell photos for two separate stories.
Wrapped in a pretty red bow..
In the end, Pete manages to fling a tracer onto Chance as he disappears after a distraction and feels guilty for not stopping the carnage sooner. Mary Jane promises Pete some extra poon, while Chance's employer fucks him over with a mild electrocution as he signs the cheque. Aw. Snap.
Who's in the next issue? Someone's holding a Spidey-Grudge!
All the best,
Nick.
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I’m still looking for an artist to cover my work on my fantasy saga, Adventures in Elowyn Glade.