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seriousficTitle: J. Jonah Jameson's New Scoop
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: J. Jonah Jameson, Peter/MJ, Mephisto, Daily Bugle staff.
Word Count: 2,226
Summary: J. Jonah Jameson versus the Devil. Place your bets.
Peter was woken by a shrill ring. For a moment, he wondered if it was some kind of Star Trek communicator thing, like a handheld phone, but that was silly. Why would you need something like that when there were perfectly good phone booths around?
Thoughts like that were quite common to him now. He felt like a Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s court, always expecting to use technology that wasn’t available to him. He wondered if there was some kind of drug that did that. Maybe the Green Goblin had drugged him. If only he knew who that cackling coward was, he could do something about it!
But first, he answered the phone. It was J. Jonah Jameson. Now if only there was some way to identify who was calling you before you picked up, Peter could make a fortune.
“Parker! Get your butt in here! This isn’t the US Senate! When you say you’ll be in, you come in!”
Peter checked his alarm clock. The hour hand was at noon. “Sorry, Mr. J, must’ve over… wait a minute, I’m a freelancer! I make my own hours!”
“The hell you do! You signed a contract and by God, you’ll earn that 401(k) of yours!”
“What’s a 401(k)?”
“Parker, stop asking stupid questions and get in here or you’re fired!”
“You can’t fire me, I don’t work for you. And even if I did, I would take the day off so I could go on a lunch date with April.”
“Who in the blue blazing hell is April?”
She was nobody. Perfectly pretty, perfectly intelligent, but Peter felt no chemistry with her and he’d agreed to her proposal mostly because Aunt May worried about a thirtysomething man who didn’t have a woman in his life. If only she knew he was Spider-Man and not… faygele.
“She could be the girlfriend of one Peter Benjamin Parker!” Peter replied defiantly.
“And what’ll your wife have to say about that!?”
“I’m not married.” Peter counted them off on his fingers. “And I don’t work for you. And how’d you even get this number?”
There was a dry rattle at the other end of the line that Peter knew what his boss venting his rage through his cigar. “Mary. Jane. Watson. Parker. Ring any bells?”
“No. I know a Mary-Jane Watson, but we’re certainly not married. I’m thirty, that’s far too young and approachable to be wed!”
“…go back to bed, Parker.”
“Sure thing, JJ.”
With that, Parker hung up the phone and went back to sleep.
Fifteen minutes later, he woke up to a vicious pounding at the door. “PARKER! PARKER! OPEN THIS BLASTED DOOR BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE ON YOU! NO-GOOD CONFOUNDED BIGAMIST…”
Peter opened the door in pajamas and slippers. “To be a bigamist, wouldn’t I have to be married to two people instead of married to one and dating another, which I’m not.”
Jameson grabbed him by the lapels and jerked him out onto the porch. May Parker looked at them from the kitchen, sharply surprised.
“Mr. Jameson? My, what a pleasant surprise. Want me to fix an extra helping of wheatcakes for you?”
“Maybe later,” Jameson said politely, before turning back to Peter in full rant mode. “What the hell’s the idea of saying you’re not married? I was there at your wedding! I paid for the catering when your check bounced!”
Peter shook his head. “Sorry, doesn’t ring a bell.”
“I helped pay for a wedding and I’ll be goddamned if I’m not getting my money’s worth for it! Get in the car!”
Peter looked at Jameson’s SUV. “Whoa, what is that, some kind of tank?”
“It’s an SUV, you lummox. Where have you been the last ten years?”
“Uhhh…” Peter scratched his head. “I don’t recall. I seem to have done absolutely nothing with my life and am still in the exact same position I was when I was a teenager.” He laughed. “You understand.”
“No, I don’t! How could I possibly relate to such a loser? Now get in the car so we can get this whole thing sorted out in time for the evening edition!”
“I’m not getting in the car.”
Jameson pointed. “JESUS CHRIST, IT’S A LION!”
Peter turned to look and while he was distracted, Jameson threw him into the car.
***
The SUV might not have been a tank, but Jameson definitely drove it that way. It was all Peter’s spider-senses could do to get him into a seatbelt.
“Where are we going?”
“To find you a wife!”
“Can we stop for burgers? I’m a little hungry.”
“No! You can have burgers when you’re married!”
***
Mary-Jane piled into the backseat with Peter. “Jesus Christ, there was a lion!”
“Merely a clever ruse, I’m afraid,” Peter said. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she said, smiling. “Wait, I’m supposed to be angry with you.” She frowned.
He smiled.
She smiled.
“Sorry,” he said.
“That’s okay, could’ve happened to everyone. Friends?”
“Friends. Maybe something more?” Peter asked, a little hopefully.
“I’m not sure.”
“I am!” Jameson turned the key in the ignition. The next moment, they were screaming toward the Bugle. “Mary-Jane Watson, question! You have a date for this evening?”
“No, and you’re not my type.”
“Any of this week?”
“No.”
“And when’s the last time you’ve been on a date?”
“Well…” Mary-Jane thought about it, Peter watching her with interest. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just not that interested in partying with guys. Not anymore. Whenever I even talk to someone, I just get this feeling that he’s not Mr. Right. Like I ever cared about that…”
“Like she’s just… not what you’re looking for, and you know exactly what you’re looking for, and you can’t settle for anything else?” Peter asked.
“Yeah, something like that. Exactly like that!” Mary-Jane exclaimed, realizing that sometime in the preceding sentences she’d put her hand on Peter’s thigh.
“Mary-Jane, do you believe in love at first sight… even if you’ve seen someone a thousand times before?”
“I’m starting to.”
“We’re here!” Jameson said, parking in a handicapped spot and throwing the appropriate pass onto his rear-view mirror. “Come on!”
***
Inside the Daily Bugle, Peter and Mary-Jane were animatedly talking.
She just seems so interesting, Peter thought.
He just seems so interesting, Mary-Jane thought.
Meanwhile, J. Jonah Jameson had stopped in his office only long enough to light a new cigar. Now he had a passel of reporters chasing down leads.
“Minister Lee says he remembers marrying them.”
A theory was already springing to life in Jameson’s flat-topped head. “He’s a true believer. Of course he’d remember.”
“But even if we assume Peter and Mary-Jane were married, and someone made everyone forget, why would you remember?” Robbie asked.
“I’m too stubborn to go along with some flim-flam.” Jameson chomped on his cigar. “All the evidence points to just one man capable of such a thing…”
“Right you are, Mr. Jameson.” With a burst of sulfur, a malignant presence in the form of a man appeared in the bullpen of the Daily Bugle. Onlookers gawked. Some screamed. Peter and Mary-Jane held each other, with Peter wondering if it would do any good to engage the new arrival as Spider-Man.
“Mephisto.” Jameson locked his hands at his waist. “We meet again. Back to work, everyone, he’s not the devil, just a devil!”
Hoffman raised a finger. “Mr. Jameson, I have some vacation time due…”
”Back to work!”
Hoffman scampered off.
“Alright, Mephisto, what’s the big idea tampering with my employee’s brains, such as they are?”
“Simple,” Mephisto chuckled. His voice darkened with mock-sympathy. “The boy’s aunt was on her deathbed, so I simply offered to restore her life in exchange for his marriage.”
“And he accepted!?” Jameson bit through his cigar. He spat out the part in his mouth. “Of all the blasted, dumb, damn dumb, idiotic, dumb--!”
“You’ve said dumb three times.”
“THAT’S BECAUSE YOU’D HAD TO BE A GODDAMN DUMMY TO MAKE THAT DEAL!”
Calming, Jameson walked with exaggerated calm over to the phone. He picked it up and dialed a number. “Mrs. Parker? Hello, it’s J. Jonah Jameson. Do you know what your nephew did?”
And as Mephisto and Jameson entered their stand-off, Peter and Mary-Jane were hiding under a desk. There was lots of fleeing going on, plus the sprinklers had gone off due to the flames coming off of the demon.
“MJ, there’s something I have to do.”
“What?”
“I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but… let me just show you.” Peter opened his shirt.
“Oh my God! Nice pecs.”
“Uhh, MJ?” Peter tapped on the spider emblem over his heart.
“I know. I’ve always known. I saw you one night and…” Mary-Jane looked down. “I’ve been waiting for you to tell me. That’s why I was angry. All this time we’ve been circling around each other and you never trusted me enough to really let me into your life.”
“MJ, I can literally say that the devil made me do it.”
“Sure, laugh it off.” Mary-Jane hugged herself (tighter than she was already doing). “Whatever we had, or were going to have, apparently it was so worthless you were willing to throw it away.”
“Mary-Jane, I don’t have the full story here. I don’t know what I… what the other me was thinking. I don’t know his circumstances, I don’t know what he’d been through, I just don’t know. All I know is this.” He took Mary-Jane’s hands in his. “He must’ve been the biggest idiot on the planet to let you go.”
”THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING!” Jameson roared, prompting Peter to quickly pull his shirt closed over his costume.
Thirty minutes later, drying off the office after they finally got the sprinklers turned off (and Mephisto hanging around and occasionally laughing, and sometimes pointing at someone and saying “See you soon.”), Aunt May arrived. Clutching her purse, she walked past Mephisto (“You should be ashamed of yourself!” “Lady, I’m the Devil!” “That’s no excuse!”), she came right up to Peter and slapped him across the face.
“Peter Benjamin Parker!”
“Aunt May,” Peter replied, holding his face. “I, uh… I did it for you.”
“Oh, yes. How happy that makes me, knowing you’re willing to sacrifice your own happiness for my life. And how do you think it makes me feel, looking at your life and seeing how alone you are?”
“Aunt May…”
“Hush, I’m not done talking.” Aunt May beckoned to Mary-Jane, who came closer. She pushed MJ’s hand into Peter’s. “This. If undoing this means my life… I don’t want to live. I would rather be dead than know that you weren’t with the woman you love.”
“No take-backs!” Mephisto taunted. “I have your memories! Your wedding, your honeymoon, your history! And I refuse to return them! Go on, build a life together. But know that it will always be a dull shadow of what you once had.”
“Miss Brant!” Jameson hollered.
“Yes Mr. Jameson?”
“Start typing. I have a editorial page to fill.”
Betty Brant readied her typewriter.
“In this modern world of thugs like Iron Man who curtail our freedoms at will and force our young people into government servitude, why use is it to carry old superstitions?”
The typewriter rang as it cleared a page.
“What are you doing?” Mephisto asked, mock-politely.
“Journalism.” Jameson turned back to Betty. “Why should we fear some invisible devil when there are real monsters on our streets and in our houses? Instead of focusing so much fear and anxiety on mythological beasts like this ‘Mephisto’, let’s put our caution where it belongs… on the government and its pet supervillains, who loot and pillage in our name and with our tax dollars!”
“Stop that!”
“It’s time to stop blaming things on Mephisto and start accepting responsibility for ourselves! These things happened at our tolerance. There’s no devil pulling the strings and sending these disasters our way! There’s just apathy and ignorance. Well, this paper will have nothing to do with it! From now on, we’ll be pursuing a mission against these evils born entirely without supernatural hooliganism.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“He would,” Peter said.
“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?”
Jameson wheeled on him. “I’m the editor of the Daily Bugle, the greatest metropolitan newspaper in the world. This building is mine. This paper is mine. These desks, that chair, those typewriters, all mine!” He stood on a desk to get eye-level with the towering devil. “And before you ask, the employees of the Daily Bugle, from the highest-paid reporter to the lowliest paperboy, are my family. And I don’t like people messing with what’s mine.”
“You really think a few newspaper articles are going to hurt me?”
“They did a number on Nixon. And you, sir, are no Nixon!”
With a roar that shook the bullpen, Mephisto disappeared. A moment later, Peter and Mary-Jane looked down to see wedding rings on their fingers. A moment later, Aunt May collapsed.
***
“Doctors say she doesn’t have long,” Robbie said, hanging up the phone.
Jameson nodded. “Tell the Parker kid to take some time off. And get me the phone number for Eddie Brock. I need a photographer.”
Robbie frowned. “Isn’t he a supervillain now?”
Jameson lit a new cigar. “You don’t think I’m going to let a little thing like that stop me, do you?”
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: J. Jonah Jameson, Peter/MJ, Mephisto, Daily Bugle staff.
Word Count: 2,226
Summary: J. Jonah Jameson versus the Devil. Place your bets.
Peter was woken by a shrill ring. For a moment, he wondered if it was some kind of Star Trek communicator thing, like a handheld phone, but that was silly. Why would you need something like that when there were perfectly good phone booths around?
Thoughts like that were quite common to him now. He felt like a Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s court, always expecting to use technology that wasn’t available to him. He wondered if there was some kind of drug that did that. Maybe the Green Goblin had drugged him. If only he knew who that cackling coward was, he could do something about it!
But first, he answered the phone. It was J. Jonah Jameson. Now if only there was some way to identify who was calling you before you picked up, Peter could make a fortune.
“Parker! Get your butt in here! This isn’t the US Senate! When you say you’ll be in, you come in!”
Peter checked his alarm clock. The hour hand was at noon. “Sorry, Mr. J, must’ve over… wait a minute, I’m a freelancer! I make my own hours!”
“The hell you do! You signed a contract and by God, you’ll earn that 401(k) of yours!”
“What’s a 401(k)?”
“Parker, stop asking stupid questions and get in here or you’re fired!”
“You can’t fire me, I don’t work for you. And even if I did, I would take the day off so I could go on a lunch date with April.”
“Who in the blue blazing hell is April?”
She was nobody. Perfectly pretty, perfectly intelligent, but Peter felt no chemistry with her and he’d agreed to her proposal mostly because Aunt May worried about a thirtysomething man who didn’t have a woman in his life. If only she knew he was Spider-Man and not… faygele.
“She could be the girlfriend of one Peter Benjamin Parker!” Peter replied defiantly.
“And what’ll your wife have to say about that!?”
“I’m not married.” Peter counted them off on his fingers. “And I don’t work for you. And how’d you even get this number?”
There was a dry rattle at the other end of the line that Peter knew what his boss venting his rage through his cigar. “Mary. Jane. Watson. Parker. Ring any bells?”
“No. I know a Mary-Jane Watson, but we’re certainly not married. I’m thirty, that’s far too young and approachable to be wed!”
“…go back to bed, Parker.”
“Sure thing, JJ.”
With that, Parker hung up the phone and went back to sleep.
Fifteen minutes later, he woke up to a vicious pounding at the door. “PARKER! PARKER! OPEN THIS BLASTED DOOR BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE ON YOU! NO-GOOD CONFOUNDED BIGAMIST…”
Peter opened the door in pajamas and slippers. “To be a bigamist, wouldn’t I have to be married to two people instead of married to one and dating another, which I’m not.”
Jameson grabbed him by the lapels and jerked him out onto the porch. May Parker looked at them from the kitchen, sharply surprised.
“Mr. Jameson? My, what a pleasant surprise. Want me to fix an extra helping of wheatcakes for you?”
“Maybe later,” Jameson said politely, before turning back to Peter in full rant mode. “What the hell’s the idea of saying you’re not married? I was there at your wedding! I paid for the catering when your check bounced!”
Peter shook his head. “Sorry, doesn’t ring a bell.”
“I helped pay for a wedding and I’ll be goddamned if I’m not getting my money’s worth for it! Get in the car!”
Peter looked at Jameson’s SUV. “Whoa, what is that, some kind of tank?”
“It’s an SUV, you lummox. Where have you been the last ten years?”
“Uhhh…” Peter scratched his head. “I don’t recall. I seem to have done absolutely nothing with my life and am still in the exact same position I was when I was a teenager.” He laughed. “You understand.”
“No, I don’t! How could I possibly relate to such a loser? Now get in the car so we can get this whole thing sorted out in time for the evening edition!”
“I’m not getting in the car.”
Jameson pointed. “JESUS CHRIST, IT’S A LION!”
Peter turned to look and while he was distracted, Jameson threw him into the car.
***
The SUV might not have been a tank, but Jameson definitely drove it that way. It was all Peter’s spider-senses could do to get him into a seatbelt.
“Where are we going?”
“To find you a wife!”
“Can we stop for burgers? I’m a little hungry.”
“No! You can have burgers when you’re married!”
***
Mary-Jane piled into the backseat with Peter. “Jesus Christ, there was a lion!”
“Merely a clever ruse, I’m afraid,” Peter said. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she said, smiling. “Wait, I’m supposed to be angry with you.” She frowned.
He smiled.
She smiled.
“Sorry,” he said.
“That’s okay, could’ve happened to everyone. Friends?”
“Friends. Maybe something more?” Peter asked, a little hopefully.
“I’m not sure.”
“I am!” Jameson turned the key in the ignition. The next moment, they were screaming toward the Bugle. “Mary-Jane Watson, question! You have a date for this evening?”
“No, and you’re not my type.”
“Any of this week?”
“No.”
“And when’s the last time you’ve been on a date?”
“Well…” Mary-Jane thought about it, Peter watching her with interest. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just not that interested in partying with guys. Not anymore. Whenever I even talk to someone, I just get this feeling that he’s not Mr. Right. Like I ever cared about that…”
“Like she’s just… not what you’re looking for, and you know exactly what you’re looking for, and you can’t settle for anything else?” Peter asked.
“Yeah, something like that. Exactly like that!” Mary-Jane exclaimed, realizing that sometime in the preceding sentences she’d put her hand on Peter’s thigh.
“Mary-Jane, do you believe in love at first sight… even if you’ve seen someone a thousand times before?”
“I’m starting to.”
“We’re here!” Jameson said, parking in a handicapped spot and throwing the appropriate pass onto his rear-view mirror. “Come on!”
***
Inside the Daily Bugle, Peter and Mary-Jane were animatedly talking.
She just seems so interesting, Peter thought.
He just seems so interesting, Mary-Jane thought.
Meanwhile, J. Jonah Jameson had stopped in his office only long enough to light a new cigar. Now he had a passel of reporters chasing down leads.
“Minister Lee says he remembers marrying them.”
A theory was already springing to life in Jameson’s flat-topped head. “He’s a true believer. Of course he’d remember.”
“But even if we assume Peter and Mary-Jane were married, and someone made everyone forget, why would you remember?” Robbie asked.
“I’m too stubborn to go along with some flim-flam.” Jameson chomped on his cigar. “All the evidence points to just one man capable of such a thing…”
“Right you are, Mr. Jameson.” With a burst of sulfur, a malignant presence in the form of a man appeared in the bullpen of the Daily Bugle. Onlookers gawked. Some screamed. Peter and Mary-Jane held each other, with Peter wondering if it would do any good to engage the new arrival as Spider-Man.
“Mephisto.” Jameson locked his hands at his waist. “We meet again. Back to work, everyone, he’s not the devil, just a devil!”
Hoffman raised a finger. “Mr. Jameson, I have some vacation time due…”
”Back to work!”
Hoffman scampered off.
“Alright, Mephisto, what’s the big idea tampering with my employee’s brains, such as they are?”
“Simple,” Mephisto chuckled. His voice darkened with mock-sympathy. “The boy’s aunt was on her deathbed, so I simply offered to restore her life in exchange for his marriage.”
“And he accepted!?” Jameson bit through his cigar. He spat out the part in his mouth. “Of all the blasted, dumb, damn dumb, idiotic, dumb--!”
“You’ve said dumb three times.”
“THAT’S BECAUSE YOU’D HAD TO BE A GODDAMN DUMMY TO MAKE THAT DEAL!”
Calming, Jameson walked with exaggerated calm over to the phone. He picked it up and dialed a number. “Mrs. Parker? Hello, it’s J. Jonah Jameson. Do you know what your nephew did?”
And as Mephisto and Jameson entered their stand-off, Peter and Mary-Jane were hiding under a desk. There was lots of fleeing going on, plus the sprinklers had gone off due to the flames coming off of the demon.
“MJ, there’s something I have to do.”
“What?”
“I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but… let me just show you.” Peter opened his shirt.
“Oh my God! Nice pecs.”
“Uhh, MJ?” Peter tapped on the spider emblem over his heart.
“I know. I’ve always known. I saw you one night and…” Mary-Jane looked down. “I’ve been waiting for you to tell me. That’s why I was angry. All this time we’ve been circling around each other and you never trusted me enough to really let me into your life.”
“MJ, I can literally say that the devil made me do it.”
“Sure, laugh it off.” Mary-Jane hugged herself (tighter than she was already doing). “Whatever we had, or were going to have, apparently it was so worthless you were willing to throw it away.”
“Mary-Jane, I don’t have the full story here. I don’t know what I… what the other me was thinking. I don’t know his circumstances, I don’t know what he’d been through, I just don’t know. All I know is this.” He took Mary-Jane’s hands in his. “He must’ve been the biggest idiot on the planet to let you go.”
”THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING!” Jameson roared, prompting Peter to quickly pull his shirt closed over his costume.
Thirty minutes later, drying off the office after they finally got the sprinklers turned off (and Mephisto hanging around and occasionally laughing, and sometimes pointing at someone and saying “See you soon.”), Aunt May arrived. Clutching her purse, she walked past Mephisto (“You should be ashamed of yourself!” “Lady, I’m the Devil!” “That’s no excuse!”), she came right up to Peter and slapped him across the face.
“Peter Benjamin Parker!”
“Aunt May,” Peter replied, holding his face. “I, uh… I did it for you.”
“Oh, yes. How happy that makes me, knowing you’re willing to sacrifice your own happiness for my life. And how do you think it makes me feel, looking at your life and seeing how alone you are?”
“Aunt May…”
“Hush, I’m not done talking.” Aunt May beckoned to Mary-Jane, who came closer. She pushed MJ’s hand into Peter’s. “This. If undoing this means my life… I don’t want to live. I would rather be dead than know that you weren’t with the woman you love.”
“No take-backs!” Mephisto taunted. “I have your memories! Your wedding, your honeymoon, your history! And I refuse to return them! Go on, build a life together. But know that it will always be a dull shadow of what you once had.”
“Miss Brant!” Jameson hollered.
“Yes Mr. Jameson?”
“Start typing. I have a editorial page to fill.”
Betty Brant readied her typewriter.
“In this modern world of thugs like Iron Man who curtail our freedoms at will and force our young people into government servitude, why use is it to carry old superstitions?”
The typewriter rang as it cleared a page.
“What are you doing?” Mephisto asked, mock-politely.
“Journalism.” Jameson turned back to Betty. “Why should we fear some invisible devil when there are real monsters on our streets and in our houses? Instead of focusing so much fear and anxiety on mythological beasts like this ‘Mephisto’, let’s put our caution where it belongs… on the government and its pet supervillains, who loot and pillage in our name and with our tax dollars!”
“Stop that!”
“It’s time to stop blaming things on Mephisto and start accepting responsibility for ourselves! These things happened at our tolerance. There’s no devil pulling the strings and sending these disasters our way! There’s just apathy and ignorance. Well, this paper will have nothing to do with it! From now on, we’ll be pursuing a mission against these evils born entirely without supernatural hooliganism.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“He would,” Peter said.
“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?”
Jameson wheeled on him. “I’m the editor of the Daily Bugle, the greatest metropolitan newspaper in the world. This building is mine. This paper is mine. These desks, that chair, those typewriters, all mine!” He stood on a desk to get eye-level with the towering devil. “And before you ask, the employees of the Daily Bugle, from the highest-paid reporter to the lowliest paperboy, are my family. And I don’t like people messing with what’s mine.”
“You really think a few newspaper articles are going to hurt me?”
“They did a number on Nixon. And you, sir, are no Nixon!”
With a roar that shook the bullpen, Mephisto disappeared. A moment later, Peter and Mary-Jane looked down to see wedding rings on their fingers. A moment later, Aunt May collapsed.
***
“Doctors say she doesn’t have long,” Robbie said, hanging up the phone.
Jameson nodded. “Tell the Parker kid to take some time off. And get me the phone number for Eddie Brock. I need a photographer.”
Robbie frowned. “Isn’t he a supervillain now?”
Jameson lit a new cigar. “You don’t think I’m going to let a little thing like that stop me, do you?”
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Date: 2007-12-31 05:24 pm (UTC)Oh wow, this was hilarious from start to finish. Of course Jonah wouldn't be fooled by Mephisto! Fantastic snarking on OMD.
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