Spider-Man/Muppets Fanfic: The Spectacular

[JEANYLASER]

Yeah! I want to see more with Teamo Supremo!

 

[The Count]

Uh... You do realize that was just a mention I made myself... And that's no guarantee that they wil be in this story, since Sean's the one writing it, right? Just thought I'd set things straight. Hope this helps.

 

[JEANYLASER]

I love Teamo Supremo too! Count! I didn't you get mad what i mean i was sad and crying just moment ago! I wanted to say to you Count I am so sorry!

 

[The Count]

No Jeany... Please don't misunderstand. That's the last thing I wanted to do. Just explaining in a normal manner that the one who controls what external franchises appear in the story is the author themself, of which I am not for this particular story. So anything I say is just purely annecdotal and meant in passing as usual conversation.

Hope this is OK and cheer up as I bet Sean will post more story soon.

 

[JEANYLASER]

OOps! Count I am sorry!

 

[muppetwriter]

Sorry. No Teamo Supremo here in this chaotic chapter.

Chapter Ten​

Flint Marko was brimming with confidence. It was a pleasant feeling, one that he was unaccustomed to, given the usual assortment of people criticizing him, beating him down, or at least trying to. Now, as he strode down the streets of New York City, he looked back on all the people who had made his life miserable, people who had loomed so large in his day-to-day existence: cops, wardens, his wife, teachers, his parents…especially his father. Indeed, the crappy way his father had treated him had compelled him to be the best parent he humanly could for Penny’s sake.

It was odd. All those loomed-so-large people now seemed small, pathetic…even irrelevant. How could he ever have been so concerned about them? They were nothing. He was now a giant, bestriding humanity like a colossus, and if they didn’t like him or despised him or thought he was beneath them…what did it matter? All they could do was shout at him or try to tear him down, and that just wasn’t going to be happening anymore. Not to Flint Marko.

Because Flint Marko was no longer there—he had left the building, gone on to a better place. The man that he was now—the being that he was now—had as much in common with Flint Marko as Flint Marko had in common with an amoeba. Thinking of himself as merely Flint Marko would be limiting.

He scratched his ear thoughtfully, wondering…if he wasn’t Flint Marko, who was he? A few grains of sand fell out of his ear. Feeling as if something was still in there, he pounded firmly on the side of his head as he tilted it, and a stream of sand poured out. That wasn’t surprising—as he had trimmed away excess sand so that his features would appear more and more normal, the grains had simply retreated into his body. Because of that, he now had too much sand between his ears. Once he’d extracted it, though, he felt a lot better.

Some blocks away he heard music and cheering. He snorted and wondered if it was to celebrate his return to New York City and somehow doubted that was the case. It didn’t bother him any as he continued strolling down the sidewalk. What did trouble him was the fact that people were tailing him that he was certain he had ditched only a moment ago. He felt their presence with every step he took and even heard them murmuring amongst themselves, planning to come up with some way to take him down.

These strangers were none other than Nicky Holiday, Shego, and Holiday’s henchwomen (Marla, Darla, and Carla). Holiday knew that he couldn’t bring Marko back to Bitterman without a fight, and he prepared himself for one. Now was the perfect time to test the new powers that Carla and Marla contained within them, combined with that of Shego’s. While they would pit against sand with water, energy, and electricity, Holiday and Darla would be left to bring in a big, black cement truck that Holiday spotted only a block away to turn him into a statue. The plan was simple…yet there was one problem.

Holiday and the girls noticed how Marko was walking past two policemen who were sitting in a cop car. So much for our big plan, Holiday thought. He urged Shego, Marla, Darla, and Carla to stop for a moment and just stand where they were, several feet away from where Marko neared the policemen, barely affording them a glance as he kept on going. He heard one of them say, “Isn’t that the guy from the prison break?” and the other replied, “Fits the description. Hey, you! Halt!”

Marko didn’t feel like bothering with them. They were too little and simply not worth his time. Walking quickly across the street, he ducked behind a construction truck. The police officers, pursuing him on foot, split up and came around the truck from two different directions, knowing there was nowhere for him to go.

Holiday and the girls watched intensely, figuring the same thing that they officers were. If they apprehended Marko, what was to stop him from ratting them out? Then again, this wasn’t the same Flint Marko from a few days ago. This was a superhuman being with abilities far more unexplainable than the ones that two of his associates had.

Not wanting to leave fate to determine how this would all play out, Holiday led his girls across the street and watched from a distance what was happening around that truck. To their confusion, they noticed how the officers came from either side and met on the other end of the truck. There was no sign of Marko.

“What is he? Houdini now?” Holiday asked.

That’s when Shego noticed a large tarp covering the back of the truck. “Not quite.” She pointed to the tarp at the same moment the two cops noticed it, looking at each other and nodding together. Clearly they thought they had him.

Seconds later, one of them had whipped the tarp aside and both of them had their guns leveled, fully expecting to see Flint Marko charging them in a hopeless attempt to escape. The sight was very unsettling for Holiday. “Crap! They’re gonna get him!” Nicky exclaimed in frustration. “I swear, if that big, dumb gorilla confesses to the police, I’m gonna…” He soon stopped talking when he realized that they discovered nothing there except a truckload of sand. Holiday’s tone and thoughts on the matter quickly changed as he finished his statement puzzlingly, “…give him a big hug?”

One of the cops grabbed a shovel and stepped forward, about to push it into the sand. Before he could start probing, a giant sandstone hand thrust upward, launching him into the air. He soared a short distance and came down hard on the windshield of a car that Nicky and the girls were standing nearby at the time.

“Oh, man!” Shego cried.

A patrol car rolled up and several more cops sprang out. The Sandman decided upon himself to make clear to them just how hopeless the situation was. He rose, having merged his form with the load of sand that was already in the truck, and towered over them, twenty feet high and growing with every passing second.

The cops stepped back, goggle-eyed, and went for their weapons. Instantly Sandman was filled with concern…but not for himself. Unlike the cops, he knew their bullets would be useless against him. They were in a populated area, and flying bullets didn’t discriminate between criminals and law-abiding citizens. He had an image of a little girl, not unlike Penny, standing up at her window somewhere to see what all the noise was about and getting an errant slug square between the eyes.

Another vehicle pulled up to the scene as it was unfolding, but it wasn’t a police car. It was Max Tennyson’s motorhome, which he wasn’t driving alone in at the time. He brought Ben and Gwen with him to help search for the fugitive C.O.V.N.E.T. agents, after filling them in on their whole history and recent escape from the Muppet boarding house through a rocket-powered taxicab (something Ben and Gwen instantly knew about). When first revealed of this information, Gwen felt a little disappointed that Butch and Clyde went along, believing them to be good-natured Muppets with a moral sense of things and having no connection to a heartless organization. Ben, on the other hand, could’ve cared less about it all, wanting only to be part of the Spider-Man celebration that was happening not far from their location.

But the sight of a giant sand monster quickly robbed them of their focus on the C.O.V.N.E.T. matter, as they realized how bizarre it was. So far in the summer season, they have encountered several extraterrestrial and supernatural events on their road trip, whether they were in Washington, D.C. or Las Vegas. And something as unusual as the gigantic Sandman before them might as well be suited as number one on the list of villainous freaks (so much for Vilgax or Kevin 11).

“Aw, man!” Ben exclaimed. “Talk about one real son of a…”

“Ben!” Max quickly interrupted with a stern look.

“What? I was just gonna say ‘beach’.”

Meanwhile, Marko opened his mouth to tell the police they should put the guns down, but no voice came out. He was still working on being able to speak without normal vocal cords or a tongue when the cops opened fire. Bullets tore through his chest and out his back. He looked down and saw daylight streaming through the holes.

“Don’t!” he finally managed to say. “I SAID DON’T!”

His physical form imitated his thoughts, and he transformed into an angry sandstorm that blasted down the street. Overwhelmed by the force and fury of it, the cops were knocked flat onto their backs, clawing at the air, unable to breathe. Nor were the police cars spared Sandman’s wrath as they were flipped over from the sheer power of his onslaught, their wheels spinning.

In the midst of the onslaught, Nicky and the girls quickly hid beneath the car that the officer from before had crashed into, while the motorhome drive by Max Tennyson had pinned itself to the street with metallic claws that had sprouted from its underbelly and dug deeply into the concrete.

Seeing no point in continuing to screw around with the fools who thought they had a chance in h*ll against him, Sandman blasted down the narrow canyons of the city. He never knew how much free-floating dirt and dust there was in New York, gathering it all to himself like a nurturing father and growing larger and larger until he was a living sandstorm sixty stories high. People ran screaming from his advance, which was fine by him. He wasn’t out to kill anyone—he simply wanted to help his daughter, and having cops wasting ammunition on him wasn’t going to accomplish that.

Soon after Sandman had fled the scene, Holiday and the girls removed themselves from underneath the vehicle and looked in the direction that he had disappeared, seeing the colossal cloud of sand floating away. It was quite a surreal sight to see, and neither of them could believe that they were willing to chase after it for the shake of a future that was promising and impossible at the same time.

Realizing that there was no time to waste, Holiday turned to the girls and immediately started barking orders like a drill sergeant. “Carla, Marla! You two get a head start on him! We’ll use a different method of catching up to him.”

“A different method?” Shego repeated his words in a questionable tone. “Like what? Running on stilts?”

The answer to Shego’s question soon came just as they heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. They turned their heads to the left of them to see an old, small, beat-up taxi with faded yellow coating that had spots of orange in some areas. The thick but loveable dimwitted janitor of the Muppet Theater known as Beauregard drove it, and he didn’t hesitate to stop as soon as Nicky stepped in the path of it.

Sticking his head out of the driver’s side window, he gazed at Holiday and the girls, seeming to have recognized them all from the time he and the Muppets foiled their jewel robbery at the Mallory Gallery years ago. “Hey, I remember you guys.”

“Oh, yeah?” Holiday said with a grin, before pulling out his gun and aimed it at Beau. “I bet this bad boy right here brings back a lot of memories.”

Beauregard looked closely at the gun and blinked twice before he said, “Nope. Not really.”

BANG!

One shot from Holiday’s gun echoed throughout the street corner, as a stray bullet fired out of it and came in contact with the windshield of Beau’s taxi, shattering it to pieces. Beau looked at the shattered remains of the windshield and blinked three times before turning to Holiday and saying, “Now it does!”

It didn’t take long for Holiday, Shego, and Darla to pile up into the taxi, Holiday taking Beau’s place as driver of the vehicle. To ensure that Beauregard would do nothing stupid (which was quite the understatement), Darla kept her own gun aimed straight at his head and Shego assisted by holding her glowing green hand in front of his face.

“Make one move, buddy…and you’re toast!” Shego warned him.

“If I keep frozen for the whole trip, can I have some toast?” Beau asked. “I’m really hungry.”

No one responded to Beau’s question, because they didn’t have the time to (and it was completely unnecessary). Holiday noticed Carla and Marla already getting a head start on their pursuit for Marko, transforming into their water and electrical forms and either flying through the air or streaming down the gutter at great speed. Holiday pushed his foot down hard on the gas pedal and began speeding down the road in Beau’s taxi, passing by the dazed and confused Tennyson family, who had witnessed their bizarre exit.

“Who were those guys?” Ben asked.

“I don’t know.” Max replied. “Let’s go find out.” He pressed a button on the controls to his highly advanced motorhome, bringing the metallic claws back into its underbelly and allowing him to drive his car around without tearing up the street. With a sharp u-turn, Max chased after the less-than-ordinary criminals, more curious to know more about their plans than that of the C.O.V.N.E.T. agents he was originally after.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Satisfied that he had left his pursuers behind, Sandman reconstituted himself, drawing in the grit tighter and faster until he looked like a stationary whirlwind. Seconds later the sand and wind faded, leaving him standing there looking at his hands. They appeared fairly normal and he smiled with satisfaction. It was taking him less time to sculpt himself to human specifications. Clearly he was ahead of the learning curve.

His smile grew larger as he stood near his target: an armored car outside the First National Bank. The words “Manhattan Safe Armored Car Co.” were emblazoned on the side, along with the assurance that the company had been “Protecting New York Since 1925.” That was laughable. They didn’t give a darn about New York. They cared about protecting New York’s money. Not exactly the same thing.

He was about to make his way towards it, until he heard a strange gurgling noise that sounded almost like a woman’s voice. “Marko! Hold it right there!” it said, coming closer and closer to Marko’s location. Suddenly, the bulbs on the nearest traffic light began blinking uncontrollably, switching between yellow, red, and green in rapid seconds and leaving several vehicles crashing into each other.

The bulbs on the traffic light blew out instantly, sending several sparks flying out onto the street corner where Marko stood. He shielded himself from the sparks long enough to see them form together and develop into the shape of a woman. A flash of light and the next thing Marko knew he was staring directly into the eyes of Carla. “Time to come back in from playing, son.”

“Leave me alone. I don’t have the time to mess around with you right now.” Marko demandingly said, before he noticed a stream of water coming down the gutter but stopping momentarily to stream out into the street. He didn’t know much about physics (with everything that had occurred in recent days, all of the laws seemed to have been thrown out the window), but he was smart enough to know that wasn’t normal, which gave me the notion that another crony of Nicky Holiday was sent in to retrieve him like a dog to a bone. “I don’t want to hurt you ladies.”

“Not like you could even try.” Marla gurgled, as she morphed herself back into her normal form with a devilish grin on her face. “Bitterman has promised us enough technology to get back at the people who made our lives such a living h*ll over the years, if we brought you back.”

Marko chuckled over the thought of being held back of his plans by a pompous jerk like Nicky Holiday and his lady friends. It was almost like being thwarted by Hugh Hefner and a quartet of Playboy girls. He wasn’t going to let it stop him of saving his daughter’s life, which was his main priority right now—nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t care about what Nicky and his girls wanted.

“Well, it seems like you’ll have to go back to her empty-handed, because I’m not coming easily.” Just as soon as he declared that, a battered taxicab pulled up to the scene and out from it came Holiday himself, along with Darla, Shego, and the captured Beauregard. Marko couldn’t believe that they would go as far as robbing a cab driver and taking him hostage.

“I can see this going either two ways, Marko.” Holiday stated. “We can all go back to Bitterman with you in tow and get the reward we all deserve…or I can have Marla turn you into mud and then make you my personal statue with ten gallons of cement.”

Marko didn’t take to Holiday’s threats too kindly and was about to show him and his girls just how much he had changed over the past few days, until they heard police sirens in the distance. Holiday and the girls heard them as well, knowing that if they stayed there any longer they would be liable to being arrested—the last thing any of them wanted.

Holiday and Marko looked coldly into each other’s eyes for a moment, hesitation quickly beginning to take over the two men. Both of them realized that it was either a time to duke it out or a time to get the h*ll out of there. And the latter seemed the best choice for them all, seeing as how they were fugitives on the run from the law.

As he silently made his truce with Holiday, Marko pointed to the armored car behind him and the girls that was currently unoccupied. “We’ll take that car. I was aiming to have it all for myself, but it seems like the best form of escape for all of us to use.”

Holiday and the girls looked behind them at the armored car and smiled. “Good deal. Let’s haul a**!” With that being said, all seven of them had run to the car. Holiday and the “Arla’s” climbed up into the front seat, while Marko and Shego climbed in the back with the captured Beauregard, where huge sacks of bank cash piled in a corner like so much laundry—which was exactly what Beau believed them to be.

“Wow. That’s a lot of dirty laundry.” He said. “Are we gonna take it back to the Happiness Hotel? Because they have…” Before Beau could even finish his sentence, he was gagged by one of the wads of cash that was in the sacks by Shego, who was getting irritated by his constant chattering.

Marko was about to shut the doors to the rear of the vehicle, until something he spotted up ahead stopped him momentarily from doing so. “We have company!”

At the driver’s seat, Holiday looked in the rearview mirror to see a black 911 Turbo Porsche coming their way. He didn’t recognize the car or the driver of it, but he did, however, recognize one of the passengers: an orange, fuzzy Muppet bear with a white and pink pokadotted ascot and a brown hat. He recognized only because of what happened years ago at the Mallory Gallery, when he and his friends foiled their perfectly planned jewel heist and put them in prison for what seemed like an eternity.

“Son of a b***h!” Nicky exclaimed, and just as the Porsche stopped behind the armored car, Holiday turned the key in the ignition and pushed down hard on the gas pedal, tearing up the rubber of his tires with the concrete of the street.

As Fozzie stepped out of the Porsche with Sean and Lori, the awful smell of the burning rubber went to his nostrils and nearly made him sick. But he refused to let it keep him from running towards the car as it began its journey down the road and throwing his furry body towards its rear, landing right in the back with Marko, Shego, and Beau. While the doors had slammed shut, Sean and Lori watched in disbelief as Fozzie was carried off with the criminals.

“I’d expected some crazy mess like that from Gonzo, but definitely not Fozzie!” Lori exclaimed.

Sean was already into the Porsche before she was. “C’mon! We have to get after them before someone gets seriously hurt!”

Lori considered herself lucky that she left the car running as she got out of it, because once she put it in “Drive,” she didn’t hesitate to begin speeding down the road at the same speed Holiday was moving in the armored car. Neither she nor Sean realized that two other cars (Kim’s Sloth and Max’s motorhome) were accompanying them as they all barreled down the road.

In the rear of the armored car, Fozzie was lying face down on the floor, surprised that he took the risk of climbing in there without thinking—which he now considered the dumbest idea he had yet. As he got to his feet, he was greeted to the eerie green glow of Shego’s hands. She and Marko looked down at him with expressions that were a mixture of puzzlement and wickedness.

“I don’t suppose a good joke would convince you guys not to kill me, right?” Fozzie asked.

“Let’s put it this way…we’ll do a lot more than heckle you when this show’s over.” Shego said, before grabbing him by his ascot and throwing him in the corner with the gagged Beau. “Now stay there and keep quiet!”

Fozzie nodded nervously as he turned momentarily to Beau and said, “I knew I should’ve stayed home and practiced hibernating today.”

Without caring about the pedestrians that he had sent scattering, Nicky Holiday was having the armored car careening wildly down the street. A taxi veered to get out of its way, but the speeding truck dealt it a glancing blow and sent it skidding to the side. Even in the rear section of the vehicle could Marko, Shego, Fozzie, and Beauregard sense how madly Holiday was driving the car, as they were tossed left and right through every collision and every turn that was made.

“He drives as insanely as he acts!” Marko shouted.

Back outside the armored vehicle, Max was able to speed up close enough to it to commence with a plan that he, Gwen, and Ben had come up with as soon as they arrived there. Even as that large motorhome drove in between the Sloth and Lori’s Porsche, the drivers of both vehicles seemed largely confused at the sight of it, wondering why a family vehicle like it was caught up in this criminal chaos.

In the motorhome, Ben stood in the center of the motorhome, while Gwen and Max were at the front, winding up his unusual watch that he and his family had grown to refer to as “The Omnitrix” ever since he came across it while on a camping trip with his grandpa and cousin. The face of the alien device, which rotated, displayed various alien silhouettes when spun. When the face was pushed down after selecting one of the aliens, the Omnitrix bound the selected alien’s DNA to the user’s own, transforming them into the alien of their choice. In addition, the transformation could change the user into an alien of greater or lesser mass, or one composed of a completely different element. This was much the case when Ben had transformed himself into the red, four-eyed alien that he nicknamed “Fourarms” earlier near Pete’s Diner.

Ben followed the same procedure as before to help put his grandfather’s plan to action. As soon as he saw the alien of his choice on the watch, he slammed his hand down on the face of the watch and unleashed a bright green glow that filled the entire interior of the motorhome. Once the glow had vanished, Ben was replaced with a less humanoid Omnitrix alien, one that was a cross between a lion, a gorilla, and a canine with powerful, apelike arms and no eyes. Despite its blindness, it could “see” with his heightened senses of smell and hearing—this being supplemented with the porcupine-like quills on its back that serve as finely tuned sense receptors that can sense things most other creatures could not.

“Be careful out there, Ben.” Max told the alien that Ben had nicknamed “Wildmutt,” who replied with snarls and growls before leaping out through the opened door of the motorhome and positioning himself on the rooftop. With great speed, Wildmutt leaped from the roof of the Rust Bucket to that of the armored vehicle, landing with a heavy thud with the paneling creaking and groaning beneath his feet.

Inside the vehicle, everyone heard the sound of the thud and looked up cautiously. Nicky pulled out his gun, while Shego and Marko got their powers ready, turning their hands into either a glow of high energy or a giant sandstone mace. Their suspicions of something or someone being on the roof were confirmed as Wildmutt began tearing into the rear of the armored car and shredding it like tissue paper. Shego, Marko, Fozzie, and Beau stared up at him with horrified expressions, never seeing such a bizarre figure before in their entire lives. Neither Nicky or the “Arla’s” could see what they saw at that moment; they depended on their answer to Nicky’s question to find out, “What is it?”

“Something…I’m not even gonna explain right now.” Shego replied.

“Don’t bother.” Marko remarked. “Because it’s about to become extinct!” And just as soon as he said that, he swung his left arm (the one that had formed into a giant sandstone mace) and extended it far enough towards Wildmutt to punch him square in the chest and knock him away from the armored vehicle.

Howling in pain from the intense impact of hard stone hitting furry flesh, Wildmutt’s body flew across the air and landed directly on the hood of Kim Possible’s Sloth vehicle. “What the…” she yelled, barely seeing where she was going as a block of fur obscured her view of the road.

“Did we hit a deer or something?” Ron asked, but Kim obviously had no time to figure out what it was that had landed on there. She attempted to use a mechanism that her incredibly smart twin brothers designed to remove the beast from the hood of her car by flipping a switch that was supposed to pop the hood up and down. But due to Wildmutt’s unnatural density, the hood barely budged.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Kim shouted, as she found herself swerving the car left and right blindly to avoid whatever could’ve been in her path. With no other opinion, Kim turned to Ron and gave him vital instructions. “Take the wheel. I’ll guide you the best way I can. And as soon as I say ‘now’, pull over to the curve.”

“Gotcha, K.P.!” Ron acknowledged, but it was only until he watched her climb out through the car window and climb up onto the roof did he realize what kind of crazy plan he was getting into.

From the roof of the Sloth, Kim could see their exact heading. They were nearly driving on the sidewalk at the right part of the street, smacking into several parking meters that put huge dents on the side of the car. “Ron! Make a soft left!” she ordered, and Ron did as she instructed, turning the wheel calmly to the left and centering the car right between Lori’s Porsche and the Rust Bucket. “Now give me some gas!” She then heard a strange sound from inside the car that sounded like a belch.

“Sorry, K.P. That was the nacho I had before the celebration.”

Kim rolled her eyes in disgust, trying her best to get rid of the thought of her boyfriend’s lack of manners as she focused on their position. “Just keep it slow and steady!” Ron pushed down gently on the gas pedal and positioned the Sloth just a few feet away from the rear of the armored vehicle. “Alright, Ron. Just keep it right here until I give the word.” As she waited for the right moment to make her move, something came into her view of the car’s rear that momentarily distracted her from it. Spider-Man was there, swinging into the scene at what seemed like the very last moment to Kim. “Nice of you to show up now!” she sarcastically shouted to him, without even realizing the mistake she just made.

“Good luck, K.P.!” Ron yelled from inside the car, as he began to make a hard left towards the curve.

Kim was instantly taken by surprise from the unexpected force that nearly threw her off the roof of her own vehicle. She immediately pulled out her grappling hook gun and fired it towards the section of the armored car that had been torn away by Wildmutt. Once the hook connected to the side of the hole, Kim jumped away from the Sloth as Ron drove it directly into a parked vehicle. She swung her body around the side of the armored car and hurled herself upwards. Letting go of the gun that served as her only means of support, she allowed herself to freefall down through the hole and directly into the rear of the armored car. It wasn’t long before Spidey had done the same, standing side-by-side with Kim.

“The jig’s up, turkeys.” He confidently said, leaning against the rear doors of the armored car. Kim could undoubtedly sense his cocky demeanor, like a blue-and-red-clad Bugs Bunny. It immediately irritated the h*ll out of her, as well as Sandman and Shego.

Why doesn’t he take this seriously? It isn’t some joke, Kim thought.

Upon seeing Spider-Man make his marvelous entrance into the armored car, Beauregard happily spat out the wad of cash that was gagged into his mouth and said, “Hooray! We’ve been rescued by the great Red Power Ranger!” Beau’s excitement of seeing Spider-Man and his natural born stupidity made him completely oblivious to the odd stares that everyone in the car was giving him at the time. It had to be one of the most “politically incorrect” comments that he ever made. Quickly it was dismissed as soon as everyone realized that a showdown was currently in the midst.

“Don’t you know there’s a penalty for early withdrawal, Shego?” Kim demanded.

“Why can’t you ever just stay at home like most normal girls?” Shego asked her.

Kim grinned just as confidently as Peter must’ve been behind his mask. “I’m just funny that way.”

“I don’t want to hurt either of you.” Marko told the both of them. “Leave now.” Kim didn’t want to believe him when he said that, but something about the way he did almost convinced her that he was being seriously honest. Spidey, on the other hand, just chuckled.

“I guess you haven’t heard,” he said, “I’m the sheriff ‘round these parts!”

Oh, God! He did not just say that, Kim pondered.

“Have it your way then.” Marko said, before he stuck out his arm and swung his fist at Spider-Man, with Shego and Kim standing back to watch with interest (hoping the right side will come out victorious). Moving faster than Sandman would have thought possible, Spider-Man ducked under it, punching Sandman in the gut.

It had about as much effect as the cops’ bullets—his fist went right through Sandman’s body. Both Kim and Spidey looked on in horror at the sight of Spidey’s arm stuck right in Marko’s torso. Shego had taken great pleasure in seeing the looks on their faces as Spidey made his attempt to take down the unstoppable Sandman. Even Beau and Fozzie were perplexed and stunned at the sight of the sand pouring out from the hole that Spidey’s fist made.

While attempting to remove his arm from his torso, Spider-Man realized that Marko wasn’t letting go. He felt the hole that his forearm was inside of getting tighter and tighter, feeling like sphygmomanometer taking his blood pressure (or stopping blood flow to the heart). He looked up helplessly at Marko and said, “I guess now would be a bad time to surrender.”

Sandman’s only reply was transforming his fist into the shape of a hammer and slamming Spider-Man not only into the truck’s rear doors but also through them, tearing the doors right off their hinges. One of the doors clattered to the street and tumbled away; Spider-Man landed atop the other. Sean and Lori watched in surprise from the Porsche, seeing how he had been thrown out of the car and curious to know what kind of force could’ve done that to him.

Max Tennyson, who was already making a hard u-turn to go back to where his alien-formed grandson had crashed along with Kim Possible’s car, barely avoided the first rear door as it clattered all over the street. Though he was just as curious as the Thomas siblings were about what was inside the armored car, his biggest priority was the health and safety of his grandson. With much haste, he drove the Rust Bucket back to the crash site of the Sloth.

Meanwhile, Spider-Man was keeping his balance on the door, still moving at the same speed as the armored car, as it skidded and sent up a shower of sparks. He fired a web line and, affixing his feet to the door with his astounding adhesive powers, “surfed” down the street behind the car, dragged along at top speed.

Other cars were scrambling to get out of the armored car’s path. Marla, Darla, and Carla were holding on for their lives over the wild ride that Nicky was giving them. They looked at him for a moment, seeing the crazed look in his eyes—the sign of a desperate fugitive trying to maintain his freedom. He momentarily swerved the armored car, mowing through a line of parked cars, sending each of them flipping up and over. Spider-Man had to surf left, right, left again, dodging the tumbling vehicles as they crashed down on either side of him.

Lori found herself copying the same moves that Spidey was, as she desperately tried to avoid a horrible crash (not like it would’ve been her first). “Good Lord! Who’s driving that ***** thing? Stevie Wonder?”

“I hear he’s visiting Sesame Street today.” Sean said, and Lori briefly glanced over at him, her stern look telling her brother that now wasn’t the time to joke around with her.

Inside the armored car, Shego and Kim commenced in what seemed to be “Round Ninety-Nine” of their long battle of skills, as they fought throughout the interior of the car. Fozzie and Beau kept themselves shielded whatever way they could as the two swung and kicked against the walls, either putting dents or melting away parts of it.

In the meantime, Sandman witnessed a van fly toward Spider-Man, who somersaulted over it and landed back on his still moving “wakeboard.” A Gremlin, of all things, now hurtled toward him end over end, and Spider-Man practically bent backward, like a limbo dancer, allowing the car to pass harmlessly over him.

Sandman admired Spider-Man’s agility (much more than he did Kim’s or Shego’s, as he looked back a few times to watch their battle), if not his brains. Deciding that watching the wildly gyrating web slinger had provided enough amusement for one day and seeing no sense in assisting Holiday and the girls in their escape (they had to be miles and miles away from the police, the way Holiday was driving), Sandman climbed out the top of the armored car, hauling as many of the cash bags as he could carry. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his pursuer suddenly vault from his makeshift wakeboard onto the top of the armored car, squaring off yet again in this ongoing and ridiculous attempt to impede him.

Meanwhile, Lori thought best to drive her Porsche further up to the speeding armored vehicle, moving side-by-side to the left of it. They were close enough to see the driver of the vehicle, and for him to see them as well. Even though Holiday still had no idea who the Thomas siblings were, they knew exactly who he was.

“Nicky Holiday?” Sean exclaimed.

“I thought he was locked away at Riker’s with the other garbage.” Lori added, and just as if it seemed like Holiday heard her rude comment, he aimed his gun at them and fired out the open window. The bullet hit the roof of Lori’s Porsche, alarming her almost to the point that she lost control of her vehicle, as it veered right and slammed against the armored car, almost forcing it off the road.

The “Arla’s” looked past Nicky to see the Thomas siblings and their Porsche, just as confused by their presence as Nicky was himself. In curiosity, Marla asked him, “Who are those people?”

“I have no idea.” Holiday answered, and he started to grin sinisterly as he gazed left and right at the Porsche. “But I do know that car would make a perfect replacement for this piece of crap.” He then turned to the rear of the car where Kim and Shego still fought wildly. Shego seemed to have gotten the upper hand at the last moment, as she grabbed one of the remaining sacks of money in the car and hurled it at Kim. The heavy sack came in contact with Kim’s head, knocking her out soon afterwards. With Kim out cold, Shego dropped the sack of money, just as she heard Holiday crying out to her. “Shego! There’s a Porsche trailing us to the left. Take out the passengers so we can ditch this car.”

It sounded like a perfect plan to her (anything that would get them out of this mess sounded good), so she proceeded in executing it right away. But even as she climbed out through the rear of the car where the doors should’ve been, she wondered why Marko was standing on the rooftop, battling Spider-Man with sacks of money in hand. It was clear to her that the only reason they used the armored car as a getaway vehicle was so he could take the money that he knew was inside beforehand and get out of dodge at the right moment. Marko could’ve easily evaded the police by morphing himself into a sandstorm and floating away like he had been doing for some time now. But he knew Holiday would be stupid and desperate enough to not realize that and take the old-fashioned way out instead.

Though Shego should’ve been angry at Marko for using them like that, she actually commended him, because he was doing it for his sick daughter. If there was anyone in the little team they had formed since their escape from Riker’s that knew how ridiculously crazy Holiday seemed to have been lately, it was her and Marko.

Allowing Marko to go about with his plans as soon as he finished off Spidey, Shego climbed to the side of the armored car and positioned herself there for a brief moment to make sure the Porsche was at the right spot for her to jump on top of it. As soon as it was, she made her leap of faith and landed right on the Porsche’s top. Lori and Sean looked up in horror as the watched the entire roof of their car melt away under Shego’s dangerous touch. Within seconds, the Porsche had become a crude convertible.

Shego grinned at the two passengers as she taunted them by saying, “Shego! So easy a Drakken can do it!” She then rapidly hauled them both out of the car and hurled them away from it, sending them flying high across the air at speed dangerous enough to inflict serious pain once they hit the concrete. Luckily, Spidey noticed them just in time to spin web-nets faster than ever before. They formed slings around the Thomas siblings, snagging them both. Turning back to face his sandy adversary, he realized that there wasn’t any sign of him nor the money that he made off with.

“Oh, great.” He uttered, and just when he thought the situation couldn’t have gotten any worse, he noticed how Holiday and the “Arla’s” had all abandoned the armored car, leaping into what used to be Lori’s Porsche. He watched them escape in it, knowing that they had to be stopped. But what really needed to be stopped was the driverless armored vehicle that he, Kim, Beau, and Fozzie were still on, before it killed someone.

Dropping into the speeding car, the first thing he spotted was Kim lying unconscious on the floor with Beauregard and Fozzie standing over her. As soon as Fozzie noticed him inside the car, he said, “She got knocked out by the woman with the green thumbs! And I don’t mean the kind that helps plants grow.”

Seeing Kim there unconscious didn’t make the situation any easier, as Spidey realized that the problem of stopping the armored car was about to be solved: it was heading toward the solid side of a building. With only seconds to act, he grabbed the unconscious Kim under one arm and then Fozzie and Beauregard with the other, and threw all of them out the back of the ruined car along with himself. They all escaped just as the armored car hit the curb, flipped completely over, and slammed into the side of the building.

Spider-Man landed safely on the street, setting Fozzie, Beau, and Kim gently on the ground as Ron Stoppable and the Thomas siblings ran over to their location. As soon as Ron noticed Kim lying unconscious on the ground, he immediately panicked over the sight of his girlfriend in such a state. “K.P.! Oh, man! I’m so sorry! Please don’t die on me! I love you! I LOOOOVE YOU!”

“Ron!” Spidey exclaimed, just after he checked on Kim’s status. “Take it easy. She’s alright.” He heard the sound of sirens in the distance, both police and ambulance, and knew that things were going to be okay for the fallen teen heroine.

Sean was a little concerned about Spidey himself. “Are you okay?”

“Sure he is.” Beauregard said. “He’s the Red Ranger! He can get through any situation unharmed.”

Spidey looked at Beau for a brief moment. How in the h*ll could this guy get me confused with one of the Power Rangers, he wondered. He then looked to Fozzie and the Thomas siblings, who simply shrugged their shoulders in response to his unasked question.

Spider-Man immediately fired a web line that hauled him to a high perch, giving him an unobstructed view of the surrounding area for blocks in all directions. He tried to catch a glimpse of his opponent, but there was none to be had. He was long gone, just as his cohorts were.

He briefly pondered the insane opponents that had surfaced since the first day he had put on the Spider-Man costume—the Green Goblin, Dr. Octopus, the Goblin redux…and now this human sand pile.

“Where do all these guys come from?” he wondered aloud, then grimly thought that the Daily Bugle was going to have a field day with this.

END OF CHAPTER TEN​

 

[The Count]

Thank you for the chapter Sean. One thing I'd advise, try to keep it clean, as I noticed some instances of blue language.
Beau was perfect... Fozzie was daringly incredible. Was worried about the Thomases. There's some sympathy mixed with the "boo" for the villain that is the Sandman. Really like how you're handling the transformations of both Ben and Carla and Marla.
Please post more when you can.

 

[The Count]

Thank you for the chapter Sean. One thing I'd advise, try to keep it clean, as I noticed some instances of blue language.
Beau was perfect... Fozzie was daringly incredible. Was worried about the Thomases. There's some sympathy mixed with the "boo" for the villain that is the Sandman. Really like how you're handling the transformations of both Ben and Carla and Marla.
Please post more when you can.

 

[muppetwriter]

I guess I did get carried away with some of it. Sorry about that. I was basically just trying to bring some realism into the story. Won't happen again (unless I'm writing John Crichton's lines, which--in that case--I can't help but to write a few dirty words).

I'll try to have some more up by Tuesday. We're coming pretty close to the big plot twist.

 

[The Count]

Is okay... Realism can be achieved in most cases with the use of other diffrent words, as is the case regarding most writing. Look forward to whatever's up your sleeves, even if you don't wear any.