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SUMMARY: A Satire.

"The Day Spiderman Saved My Life"
William Hrdina

I'm here to tell you definitively. There is one person who hates Spiderman more than anyone. It isn't the Green Goblin, Doctor Octopus, Venom, or Morbius the Living Vampire. It isn't Jonah Jameson, the beleaguered head of the Daily Bugle. It isn't any of Spiderman's arch-nemeseseses. Nemeses? It doesn't matter.
The point is- it's me. I hate him the most and I want the whole world to know it. My name is Gus Ferguson and I hate Spiderman.
I know he saves people, I know he's a hero who risks his neck everyday to keep us safe. I'm not an evil man- I have sympathy for what Spiderman does- I really do. Still, I don't think I'd cross the street to pour water on him if he was on fire.
Also, I should be clear about the fact that I have no interest in becoming one of Spiderman's arch enemies. I'm no murderer and I have absolutely no intention to try killing him. I don't want to kidnap his girlfriend, reveal his secret identity, or turn the entire city into smoking crater with death rays that come out of my eyes.
What I want, quite simply, is a thank you- a little respect. Maybe a card in the mail, or even, heaven forbid, a tip for all my troubles. I mean, they gave him all that grant money last year to supplement his income- but did I get a cent of it? Of course I didn't. The ol' webslinger doesn't even know who I am. Typical, the elites never notice us peons.
I should probably clarify what my job is- I work for the New York Sanitation Service. Until a year ago, I had the cushiest job in the city. I worked on a mowing crew in Central Park. I had seniority on the crew and therefore my pick of spots. It was wonderful. All I had to do was sit on my mower and ride around.
Life was sweet.
But then I made the mistake of taking a little nap under a particularly shady tree and got caught on tape by a local news team. The next thing I knew I was answering a call to go to see Kyle Strongbow, my big stinky of a boss. Feeling like I was walking to my execution, all I could do was hope my Uncle Gene, the Park Service Commissioner, made a call to save my job. The news made me look pretty bad- I don't think I could be blame him if he left me hanging out to dry.
When I walked into his messy, grungy-looking office, Kyle looked at me through slitted eyes. He had this thing he did when he was really mad, his lower lip would twitch. As I sat down it looked like there was electrical current going through it there was so much twitching.
Crossing his arms and scowling at me, Kyle said, "Well Gus. I hope you're happy. You've caused a scandal, and your dopey Uncle called me up and told me I can't fire you- so I guess that means I'm stuck with your incompetence."
I tried not to look smug, but it was certainly the way I felt.
"But," he continued, "What I can do is make your life absolutely miserable."
I didn't know what he was going to say, but I could tell by the look of smug satisfaction on his own face- it was going to suck. I envisioned myself with a large bag following behind horses in parades.
Sadly, I wasn't that lucky.
"You're going to be assigned, full time, to cleaning up after the Spiderman."
I didn't understand.