Interview With an Octopus, Part 6: Green Goblin

===Downtown New York===

 

Doctor Otto Octavius looked down at his clipboard, crossing off the latest name in a long line of applicants. Morris Bench, Hydro Man, had left behind a series of shallow puddles of water along the floor, and they had already begun to seep through the wooden floorboards. Wet Rot… that was just what he needed… Octavius sighed. Lined along his desk, were a series of trophies, trinkets from a past life. The wall behind him, was covered in diplomas, certificates, and doctorates from his time at ESU. And tucked in the drawer below him, was a letter from May Parker, a kind woman who had looked after him in the wake of his last battle with that accursed arachnid. There was an unsure knock at the door, and Octavius sighed again; it was time for the nightmare to begin anew.

 

“It’s open,” he answered.

 

The door creaked open, and a man in a striped, green t-shirt with short brown hair entered the room, who then went to great lengths to avoid the damp patches of water across the floor, as he made his way to the chair opposite Octavius’ desk.

 

Octavius cleared his throat and began the interview process. "Ah, Mr Baker-"

 

"Marko," the man interjected.

 

Octavius paused. A metal tentacle, one of four, lowered his dark lensed glasses on his behalf. "Pardon?"

 

"Flint Marko. I'm trying something new," the Sandman replied, a proud smile on his face.

 

"Ah, I see,” Octavius murmured, as he made an amendment to his files. "The same cannot however be said for your wardrobe." The striped shirt Marko was wearing had been a stable of the villain’s for years. Octavius had to assume he had never once washed the ugly thing. “In any case, Mr Marko, I trust you have prepared an argument for-”

 

An explosion outside caught Octavius’ attention; while a second blast tore apart the south wall; Octavius shielded his body with his tentacles while Sandman was struck by a piece of debris; a brick flew through his head and came out the other side. A third blast came from the waiting room.

 

‘WHO DARED?’ Doctor Octopus wouldn’t stand for this indignity; this attack was a personal insult, and the perpetrator would pay for this affront with their life. His four metal tentacles stuck themselves into the ground, raising his obese body off the floor so that he could investigate the third explosion.

 

The group of villains in the adjoining waiting room, were all cowering. ‘Pathetic.’ Octavius would have to keep that in mind once he was done with Sandman. The only one who wasn't, was Paste Pot Pete of all people, who stepped forward and aimed his glue gun at the opening in the wall. He took a cautious step back, however, once the attacker came into view; a hellish figure in a green mask and purple rags, stood atop a metal bat-shaped glider.

 

"Ladies, gentlemen, Peter the Paste Pot Person, even though my invite was sadly lost; a failing of the US Postal Service, I'm sure, I am proud to announce my eligibility for membership; nay; leadership, of the brand new, all-new all-different Sinister Six!" the green man announced, brandishing an orange, pumpkin-shaped projectile in his claw-like hand.

 

Pete pulled the trigger on his gun, but nothing happened. He turned to Octavius, his face red. "I think my gun's stuck," he said sheepishly.

 

"Well, you're the one who filled it with glue," the green man on the glider cackled, examining the group of felons waiting for their turn. “Let’s see, let’s see, Shocker, Looter, Willy the Wisp… What a dismal display of nobodies, tsk tsk. Thought I saw Big Wheel’s Big Wheel parked outside, is he still here?”

 

The group stared at him blankly.

 

“I’m at the right place, aren’t I?” The Goblin reached into his satchel and retrieved a crumbled piece of paper, covered in blood. “Sinister Six… Big ego… Kill Spider-Man… Blah-de-Blah… Ah, here we are- Alchemax Shipping, 112 Romita Avenue.”

 

“Thought you said your invite was lost,” a man in a brown and yellow striped costume frowned.

 

“It was! This was Ringmaster’s,” Goblin grinned.

 

The Shocker’s eyes were drawn once more to the bloody piece of paper, and he gulped.

 

"Goblin! If you’re done tormenting these inferiors, then perhaps you could continue this in my office?" Octavius scolded him.

 

The Goblin turned back to the anxious supervillains and waved. "Toodles!” he giggled, as the glider sputtered into the life, guiding him into the office.

 

~-~

 

As the Goblin flew into the office atop his glider, its' wings nudged Sandman out of the way as he took his place opposite Octavius' desk. The other villains stood in the doorway, eavesdropping.

 

“You’re aware of the application process, yes?” Octavius inquired, as a tentacle retrieved the pen and clipboard from the ground. He was met with a high-pitched, derisive cackle:

 

“Application process? Come now, Otto, we’re old friends; let’s get this over with, shake tentacles, sign the paperwork, wrap it up with a touch of naughty nepotism,” Goblin suggested, wringing his clawed hands with malicious glee.

 

“Still, I require ‘proof’ of your credentials. For… shall we say ‘posterity’s’ sake,” Octavius spoke, carefully navigating around Goblin’s colossal ego.

 

Rows of sharp teeth broke into a twisted smile. "You mean you want a story. Drama? Destruction? Death defying stunts performed by yours truly? Well, far be it from me to deny you! Let me set the scene!" he tittered, strumming long green fingers along Octavius' desk. "Spider-Man and his woman; Gwen-D.-Lynn Stacy, dressed in a naughty little black number, were sat atop the Brooklyn bridge, enjoying a delightful picnic of greasy New York Pepperoni Pizza. For clarity’s sake, the girl was wearing the dress."

 

"Although Spider-Man does have a black suit though, I can attest to that!" Shocker interjected from the doorway.

 

"Yeah, and that's why you've got a brown one, right Herm?" a man dressed in a suited of white, padded armour and a red mask snickered.

 

"Can it, Looter, that was one time!"

 

Goblin ignored the bickering and returned to his tale: "A pumpkin bomb rolled under the lovebirds; Spidey's Spidey Sense kicked into action, of course, and he carried Ms Stacy out of harm's way while he turned his attention to yours truly:

 

~-~

 

The Brooklyn Bridge was cloaked by thick black smoke, its’ central roadway blocked by debris. Peter dropped Gwen off on the pedestrian crossing, tilting his head back up at the Goblin, cackling on his glider. “Stay here, ok? I’ll be right back,” Peter assured Gwen, before webbing up into the air, catching a flagpole at the top of bridge:

 

"Spidey and blondie sitting by the sea, k-i-s-s-i-n-g! First comes loooove, then comes marriage, then comes a casket in a horse and carriage, ahahahaha!" Goblin giggled, his pupils constricting as they locked with Spider-Man’s white eyes.

 

“Gobby! You know the saying ‘two’s company, three’s a crowd,’ don’cha?” Spider-Man quipped back, though he lacked his usual enthusiasm. He'd thought, hoped, prayed that the Goblin was gone for good, that the only threat Norman posed would be limited to stern faced scolding and complaints about the state of Harry's apartment.

 

“Oh, I couldn’t agree more! Which is why I’m afraid I’m going to ‘drop’ your little roadie! Preferably some thirty storeys.” Goblin cackled with malicious intent, another pumpkin bomb at the ready.

 

~-~

 

"I gotta stop you there. That's kinda messed up," a voice interjected. Goblin turned his head in confusion, having forgotten that Marko was still in the room. The edges of his mouth formed another twisted smile;

 

"My dear dirt-minded Sandman, you've got it all wrong. It's very messed up. You've all got tricks and traps for the Web Slinger, and they've all failed you. You wanna destroy the Wall Crawler, you attack his heart!"

 

Shocker looked up from his script; he had brought a paper copy of his story with him, and had spent his time waiting for his turn, rehearsing. He stepped out of the queue and sighed. "Welp, I'm out," he grumbled, script in one hand, a store-bought Spider-Man outfit under the other.

 

Octavius’ eyes narrowed, crossing out Schultz’ name from his list of prospective applicants and turned his attention back to the Goblin. “Continue.”

 

~-~

 

Spider-Man caught the bomb with a web, attempting to throw it out of harms’ way. It detonated prematurely, blasting a chunk out of the bridge’s centre tower, dropping concrete rubble onto the streets below; Spidey leapt down to redirect the debris, but the Goblin swooped in on his glider, throwing him aside. Spidey caught himself with a web, but wasn’t prepared for the Goblin’s next trick, as the madman pulled three razor-sharp bat-shaped projectiles from his satchel. One severed his web, one slashed his thigh, the other his arm. The Spider dropped, rolling across the tarmac, and scraping his knees and elbows. Goblin, was still singing.

 

"Spider-Man! Spider-Man! Does whatever a spider can! Does he squish? Does he splat? Does he lock lips with Black Cat? Look out, I'll kill the Spider-Man! Ahahahaha!"

 

But Spider-Man wasn’t done, not yet. He spun another web, latching himself onto the base of the Goblin’s mechanical monstrosity. The glider, began to splutter out smoke even blacker than usual. Goblin jerked the glider vertically, in attempt to loose his unwanted stowaway, but the Spider kept his grip.

 

~-~

 

"Under my glider, the Spider was slipping: quipping and thwipping, but dripping in blood! A duck, a weave, an eight-legged dweeb, t’was time to make the Spider leave!

And opportunity came a-knocking, like a burglar at the Parker home! On the bridge below, J Jonah Jameson emerged from his car, camera in hand: Spider-Man, The Green Goblin, wanton destruction of public property and a woman the Web Slinger had undoubtedly kidnapped? Adolf couldn’t resist! He could see those headlines and taste that Pulitzer, like the crumbs in his toothbrush mustache.”

 

Octavius’ eyes narrowed; his mouth downturned in a doubtful expression. “Jameson was there?”

 

“There, here, everywhere! But I’m getting ahead of myself.”

 

~-~

 

Spider-Man had now managed to climb onto the glider itself; he grabbed the Goblin’s ankle and pulled, knocking him back. Goblin regained his footing, and countered with a swift kick to the Wall Crawler’s face. Spider-Man was thrown back, but caught the wing of the glider.

 

“Sorry, Gobby, this flight’s been grounded! ” he teased, tearing loose wires out of the base of the machine.

 

The word elicited a peculiar response. “Grounded, hmm? Tsk tsk, what did you do this time? Sneak out of ESU again? Forget to pick up eggs for your poor, ailing Auntie? If you're not careful, you could give that woman a heart attack! I could give that woman a heart attack.”

 

The Web Slinger’s eyes expanded with horror. His worst fears had been realised: Norman hadn't just regained the Goblin persona, he recalled everything. “You remember?” he gasped.

 

"Yes."

 

For a moment, Norman Osborn’s voice took over, before being submerged by the Goblin’s manic laughter. “But don't you worry, Parker, I wouldn't dream of spoiling this game of ours. I'll take our little secret to my grave," he smirked, eyeing Gwen dutifully watching the battle on the street below. "Or hers."

 

~-~

 

“By now, you’ll have noticed an apparent discrepancy in my tale, but worry not. While you're all well-accustomed to the Web Slinger's myriad of quips and jokes, our battles are a far different affair, full of blood, sweat and tears. His, mainly. Oh, the cost of being his arch nemesis!"

 

Octavius’ tentacle shattered his fountain pen, dripping black ink onto the desk. “You, the Arachnid's arch nemesis? Bah! Preposterous!" he snarled.

 

“Perfectly posterous! You see, Otto, you might might be the Spider's arch nemesis. But you're not the Man's. I bet you don't even know his na-me,” he taunted him in a sing-song voice.

 

"I don't need to know his name, to crush his throat,” Octavius countered.

 

"But I bet it'd help! Ah, but where was I? The piece de resistance! The Spider was on my glider, Jameson was on the streets, the woman was within my grasp. All it takes is a couple of well-aimed projectiles!

 

Boom! A bomb blew his arm off! Boom! Jameson's face came off! Boom! Spider-Man was incinerated by my hand! Ahahahahahaha!” Goblin cackled, punctuating each explosion by slamming Octavius’ desk with his fists.

 

Octavius paused. Slowly and purposefully, he reached into his desk, and swallowed an aspirin.

 

"You... You killed him?" Sandman gasped; his face white with shock.

 

"Yep,” Goblin smiled coolly.

 

Octavius frowned. "No."

 

"No?" Goblin queried.

 

"No."

 

“Well then,” Goblin slid back into the seat. “I gotta say, I am awfully interested in hearing your rebuttal.”

 

Octavius smiled; control returned to him at last. "I spoke to Mr Jameson not two hours ago, and he was very much alive. I have witnesses to corroborate my account, CCTV footage of the meeting and this, a copy of his heavily-embellished resume that he left behind.”

 

Goblin clutched the base of his chin in false contemplation. "Well, how about that? Sure, he wasn’t Chameleon?"

 

"Positive."

 

"Well, did you try ripping his face off? I thought I saw Vermin drop down a manhole, I'm sure he'd love that."

 

“Quite,” Octavius smirked, rising to his feet. “But if you have nothing else to offer, other than a blatantly false report and propositions of facial mutilations, we have nothing else to discuss. You know the door. Or alternatively, you can exit through one of the many holes you’ve left in my walls.” After half an hour listening to Goblin’s babblings, Octavius felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction throwing him out.

 

Goblin was uncharacteristically quiet as his glider spluttered back into life, no jokes, no taunts, just a simple, unveiled threat: “You’re a fool, Octavius.”

 

The playful cadence had completely vanished from his voice.

 

Octavius leaned forwards. "Osborn?"

 

“No, I didn’t blow him up. He beat me, his passion reignited over threats to his precious loved ones... My glider exploded, I plunged into the Hudson and I licked my wounds. So, yes, he stopped me.

 

He didn’t next time.

 

I snapped the neck of that simpering female. I tortured the Spider in ways you could only dream of; androids, clones, zombies! All my schemes, you understand? ME! ME! ME! I have more than earned the right to squash that meddling, interfering whelp in whatever monstrously macabre ways I see fit! Earned it! So, you can keep your Sinister Saps, recruit as many of them as you see fit; six, twelve, a hundred! It doesn’t matter. They will implode as they always do, and when that happens, I will finish the job myself!”

 

And with a cloud of black smoke, and accompanied by strained sputtering, the glider carried the Goblin out of the building.

 

Octavius removed his glasses and rubbed his eyelids. "Now, Mr Marko, I apologise for the intrusion... Your story?"

 

"Ah, well. Y'know how it is. Spider-Man catches me at the bank, I turn my hands inta' hammers, clobber him about a bit, then he kicks a fire hydrant open, and suddenly I'm the freaking Mud Man."

 

"And?"

 

"That's it."

 

~Will DOCTOR OCTOPUS ever form his Sinister Six or will he be left to lead a Terrible Trio or a Frightful Four? Find out in INTERVIEW WITH AN OCTOPUS: LIZARD~

Done