The New Guy

Disclaimer: God is my copilot, but the Devil is my bombardier.

A/N: First things first, I would like to apologize to Wyld Stallyns for getting your name wrong last chapter. I think I accidentally hit "change" during a spell-check, thereby "correcting" your name. I noticed after I posted the chapter, but it was too late by then. Sorry.

I have a promise to keep: If you like Spider-Man/Titans crossovers, I suggest the story Trust by CloudsHalo. It's pretty good, and now it's been completed, so no waiting for updates.

There's an obscure reference to an old but popular movie in this chapter. See if you can pick up on it!

I would also like to apologize in advance to any overweight readers for the series of rather scathing fat jokes contained herein.

Chapter 6: Bowling for Bad Guys

A week later, only one of the others had caught on to Raven and Spider-Man's little ploy. Robin, detective that he was, had quickly realized there was too many odd coincidences in a short span of time and confronted them about it. (Robin: Okay, you two have been acting really weird lately. Weirder than normal. What's really going on? Raven: 'Bout time somebody figured it out. Spidey: You might want to sit down for this one, boss-man…) The other Titans were still mostly clueless, which provided no end of amusement to all three of the others.

At the end of the week, everybody was goofing off in the normal manner in the living room. Beast Boy and Cyborg were racing on the Gamestation, and Spidey was waiting to play the winner. Starfire was attempting to cook (to the secret horror of everyone else), Raven was meditating at the window, Terra was reading a magazine, and Robin was leafing through the newspaper. Occasionally he would find an article of interest to one of the others and would read part of it out loud.

"'Krash Kings 8 for sale next week'…"

"What?!" Beast Boy's head whipped around. "I've been waiting for that game for months! Awes-" He was cut short by an electronic crash. "Hey! No fair!"

"Gotta pay more attention, little man." Cyborg chuckled lightly as he took the lead, passing BB's wrecked hovercar.

Robin turned the page. "'Wilson Fisk Donates to Police'…"

"WHAT?!" Spider-Man's head snapped around as Robin read more of the article aloud.

"'New York philanthropist Wilson Fisk has committed to donate a large sum to our local Police Department. Earlier today, the esteemed millionaire made a statement that wished to make a contribution to help people feel safe on the streets of their own city. Since our fair town has a crime rate second only to Gotham City within the nation, he has decided to put forward his best effort here.' I guess he didn't choose Gotham because Bruce Wayne already donates a lot there, so…"

"Fisk?! Here?!"

Terra glanced up at Spidey, who had nearly fallen from his perch on the ceiling in shock. "What's wrong with that? I've heard of this guy, and he sounds like a saint."

"Yeah, Saint Tubby the Wide of Bubble-Butt City. Trust me, this is a bad thing. Is he actually coming to town?"

"Yeah, he'll be here for a week. There'll be a presentation ceremony, a formal dinner, a tour of the Police Department, and a few more meet-and-greet opportunities. Why are you so worked up about this?"

Spider-Man hopped to the floor. "Damn. If he's coming here, that's really bad. He never likes to leave New York, he's always paranoid about what goes on behind his back. And trust me, you could have a film festival, two carnivals, and a three-ring circus behind his back. Not to mention the trouble it would be to get his ample ass across the country. Seriously, when he hauls ass he needs to make three trips."

"Okay! He's fat! We get the point! Why are you so worried about him coming for a visit?!"

"Robin, let me ask you something. Back in Gotham, was there some rich guy who everybody loved? Who always donated obscene amounts of cash to charity? But everybody also knew he was the most powerful crime lord in the city, and that despite the lack of any viable evidence it was obvious that the lion's share from half the crime in the city found its way into his pockets?"

"Yeah. Rupert Thorne." Robin spat out the name like it was a curse.

"Double his height, triple his weight, and shave him bald. That's Wilson Fisk."

"Are you sure about this, man?" Cyborg's attention was fully on Spidey now (He had remembered to pause the game). You're sure this guy's a crimeboss? 'Cause if you're wrong-"

"I'm not wrong, and he's not just a crimeboss. He's New York's Kingpin of Crime. If it happens in the Big Apple, he gets a piece of it. If he doesn't, people get found face down in alleys. He just donates so he has the influence to keep his name cleared."

Robin sighed and put the newspaper down. "Well, what are we supposed to do about it? Neither of us are vigilantes anymore, man. We're a public service team, and part of our funding comes from city taxes. Hell, they're probably going to slate part of this donation to us." He shifted, giving Spider-Man a penetrating stare. "We can't spy on him to get proof of dirty deeds, and you're assuming he does have an ulterior motive here. We can't do anything."

"Correction: You can't do anything."

"Huh? Spidey, you're a Titan. You're just as bound as we are."

"Wanna bet? I'm the new guy. The unknown article. The loose cannon. And I have a bit of a history of getting on Lardo's nerves. If I get busted, which I won't, just claim the rest of you had no knowledge of it."

Robin was still a bit doubtful. "I still don't know if I want you to do this."

"Think of it this way: I don't care. I vowed to do my damnedest to bring Fisk down. If you tell me not to try and stop whatever he's planning, I'll just do it behind your back."

Raven studied him for a moment. "You act like you have a personal vendetta against this guy. Why?"

Spider-Man gave her a long, hard look. "One of his men killed someone very important to me. It's part of the reason I started this whole Spider-Man thing."

Everyone got kind of quiet. Robin stood up, walked over to Spider-Man, and stood there for a moment with merely a foot between them. "If you're going to go after this guy in violation of a direct order…then all I can say is good luck." Several sighs of relief were audible across the room. "He'll be here Wednesday. Do what you need to, but don't get caught."

The theme to Mission: Impossible began to play. Everyone's eyes were drawn to the music's source, which happened to be Cyborg and his built-in MP3 player. Beast Boy cleared his throat. "Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to spy on a big fat guy until you can prove that he's a scumbag. If you should be captured, the Titans will disavow any knowledge of your existence. This message will shut up in… now."


Raven sat on Spider-Man's bed, watching him work at his lab bench. The Tower's lab was suited for forensic work, not chemistry, so he had established a mini-lab of his own in a corner of his room. At the moment, he was preparing a new batch of web solvent.

"So, what do you plan to do when Fisk gets here?"

"I'm not sure yet. I guess just wait for an opportunity to present itself."

"That's just vague enough to work."

"I have a general idea, but it's the sort of thing you need to make up as you go. I have an established list of Do's and Do Not's when I'm dealing with him, that'll help."

"For example?"

"Do not sneak into his office searching for incriminating documents. He isn't dumb enough to keep them there, and he is smart enough to have security cameras installed. Most likely, you end up electrocuted, unmasked, and chucked off a skyscraper. I was just lucky that it was so early in my career that that happened, so he didn't realize how dangerous I would be to him later. To him, I was just some punk kid not even worth finishing off."

"You know things are bad when something like that constitutes good luck."

"On the other hand, Do break into his building's security center and steal the security tapes that show my face and that also happened to catch several dozen rather heinous and highly illegal acts."

"You got away with something like that? Impressive."

"From what I heard, he had to spread around upwards of three million bucks just to be able to show his face in the country after I got those tapes to the FBI. Satisfying, but it still bugs me that he got away at all. I mean, for cryin' out loud, the first tape showed him crushing a guy's skull with his bare hands! You get caught doing that, you're supposed to go to prison!"

"His bare hands? I thought he was fat. How could he be strong enough to do that?"

"He's not really 'pass the donuts' fat, he's more 'ha, your bullet only hit belly fat, prepare to die' fat. Dude's huge."

"Oh." Raven studied some of the room's décor as Spider-Man returned to work. A number of framed newspaper clippings on the wall caught her eye, most of them about Spider-Man. The headlines all proclaimed the newspaper to be the Daily Bugle, and the headlines were all… well, rude would be an understatement. New York Fears Spider Bite. Masked Menace Terrorizes City. Spider- Crook. Spider-Man A Fraud… they went on and on.

Each clipping included a fantastic, up-close photo of Spider-Man performing some heinous act, like taking a little kid's balloon (that's what the caption said, the child's smile suggested he was returning an escapee). In another, he was fighting a man Raven recognized as Doctor Octopus. In another, it was somebody in green body armor, a devilish mask, and riding a powered glider. The next… what was that thing? A giant red booger? The caption called it "Carnage"…

The article second from the left actually had a lousy photo of Spider-Man from very far away. Closer examination revealed that it was really a bird, despite what the headline said. A small ad in the corner of the page proclaimed a cash reward for pictures of the freak, Spider-Man. He wouldn't… She looked back at the other pictures. Every photo except for the one of the bird had a byline that proclaimed Photo by Peter Parker…

Raven turned and stared at Spidey in amused disbelief. He was still too focused on his chemicals and notes to notice what she had been looking at. "You little weasel…"

"Huh? Oh, that… well, I had to pay the bills somehow, didn't I?"

"Considering what this editor seems to think of you, it was a nice bit of irony that he was signing your paychecks."

"Yeah, I bet ol' Triple-J would have had a coronary if only he knew."


"J. Jonah Jameson. He was the editor. It was great to work for him. He was patient, nice, reasonable, always waited for proof before printing anything…"


"No. He was the surliest, meanest SOB in a city full of surly, mean SOB's. I actually don't think he had a grudge against me personally, he was just more interested in money then truth. Slander sells, especially when the guy you're slandering can't step forward and prove you wrong."

"Hmm… I don't think I could have allowed that sort of thing to go on. I'd find a way to 'persuade' the guy to give it a rest, one way or another…"

"Wouldn't work. If your 'persuasion' worked, you'd be breaking the law. Especially if it involved any sort of blunt and/or sharp instruments. If he called your bluff…"

"Who said I would be bluffing?"

"… If he called your bluff, that would just be more ammo for them. Psycho Goth Chick Threatens JournalistClaims Free Speech is for Saps…not worth it."

"Oh, come on, you're telling me you never did something to get back at this jerk?"

"I never said that. I only said I never threatened him."

"Fine, how did you get back at him without threats or pummeling?"

"Simple. I humiliated him in public. I gain a little satisfaction, he doesn't dare print the story."

"And you did what?"

"I strolled down the street in costume, and stopped him outside the building just as he was going in to work. So I said, 'Hey, aren't you J.J. Jameson, Editor-In-Chief of the Daily Bugle? The guy who's been printing that total garbage about me just to sell newspapers?' Man, the look on his face… priceless. He probably thought I was going to rip him in half… so I said, 'I've only got one thing to say to you… love the paper. It's hysterical.' And I leap over his head and climb away up the building."

Raven looked almost disappointed. "That's it?"

"Well, just about when he tried to go inside, he discovered that I had webbed his foot to the ground without him noticing." He snickered softly. "I'm told his forehead cracked the sidewalk instead of the other way around."

"Now that's more like it! You really are a maniac, you know that?"

"It has been suggested. Repeatedly."

"Well, now I know why the Justice League burdened us with you. It was so we could keep you away from anything sharp and pointy."

"It could be worse."

"Oh? Care to enlighten me as to how, great and powerful Master of Disaster?"

"They could have sent Freakazoid instead."

Raven paled. "Bite your tongue!"

(A/N: So help me, I could not bring myself to inflict the living wad of crazy-as-hell known to the masses as Freakazoid upon the Teen Titans, or anyone else for that matter. Yet. But if someone managed to choke down the silliness that would be forever etched upon their soul with a dull putty knife and wrote such a story, and did a good job of it, I would forever be their greatest fan. Send me a review or something if you do it, so that I know! Okay, if someone starts a story like that and tells me, I'll dedicate a chapter to them. Please?)


Wilson Fisk arrived in town later that week to great fanfare and blatant ass kissing. And as Spider-Man had said, there was plenty of ass to go around. He was blissfully unaware, however, that one of the biggest of the thorns in his side was waiting for his chance.

When Spider-Man had made his ultimatum to Robin, everyone had assumed that he was going to act like the brash young leader did over Slade once his target came to town. Meaning they thought he would obsessively follow the fat man, study every gesture he made, and snap at anyone who intruded on his watch. Surprisingly, he didn't.

If you thought about it, it really wasn't that surprising. Spidey knew he wouldn't learn anything by watching Fisk during the day, the Kingpin was too careful about keeping up his façade of the generous businessman. Instead, he perched outside the window of Fisk's hotel room each night, waiting for some sort of clandestine meeting. If Fisk left, Spider-Man would follow. If Fisk ended up at a restaurant, Spidey called it a night. The living mountain never met with anyone during a meal.

Still, all this led to Spidey pulling a lot of all-nighters. Raven often found herself falling asleep in the living room waiting for him. He would return a bit later, and gently carry her to her room, where she would awake the next morning not sure how she got there.

Persistence has a way of paying off. After a few nights, the Titans minus Spider-Man were goofing off in the living room. Raven was supposedly reading her book of depressing poetry, but she was really wondering how her boyfriend was doing. As if in response to her unspoken question, she felt a familiar presence within the area of the Tower. She could sense that Spider-Man was on the roof, but he stayed up there for far longer then he usually would. Maybe he was injured, or needed to think about something or was angry… no, she could feel the joy radiating from him like a beacon. Well, there was one way to find out what was up…

Raven stood and left the room. Only Robin noted her departure, and he could guess where she was going. When she reached the roof, she was greeted by the strangest sight she had ever seen, even in all of her years as a demonic sorceress super-heroine.

Spider-Man was on the roof, all right. He was also dancing. He was dancing on the roof. And he wasn't even any good at dancing. He was currently doing something resembling The Monkey, but not quite. He switched to the Robot, then the Swim… it went on for a few minutes, mostly because Spidey had his back to the door and hadn't noticed her arrival. Raven couldn't help it. She doubled over laughing, but he didn't stop.

Once Raven regained her composure, she watched him for another moment and asked, "What are you doing?" One must admire her restraint. She could have asked "What the flippin' hell do you think you're doing dancing like a chimp on speed?" but she didn't.

"I'm doing the happy dance! Care to join me?"

"I'll pass. Does this little display mean you got something on Fisk, or is this how spiders attract mates?"

"Got you up here, didn't it?"

Raven flinched as she realized that she had stepped right into that one.

"On a slightly more serious note, yes, I did get something on our favorite fat man. In two days, I'm busting him wide open, and then I'm going to enjoy picking up all of the treats that fall out."

Blank stare. Spidey sighed. "That was supposed to be a pinata joke."

"I know. It just wasn't funny. Why wait a day?"

"Because tomorrow he's forking over that check to the city. I want that sucker cashed before I bust fatty's ass."

"Will you need any help?"

"Mmm… nah. I've got it covered. You and the others are welcome to come along to point and laugh, though."

"At you or Fisk?"

"Very funny." He was still dancing.


Two days later, Spider-Man left the Tower for a date with a morbidly obese businessman. The others were instructed to watch the news for "the show of a lifetime", to use Spidey's own words. After he disappeared into the urban jungle, Robin turned to Raven and Beast Boy. "Follow him. You don't need to hide or anything since he invited us along, but keep an eye on him. Stop him or help if he gets in over his head."


Fisk walked down the steps in front of the Town Hall building, the mayor at his left, the Chief of Police at his right, and three bodyguards (or enforcers, to more accurately describe their actual jobs) behind them. These three were the best Fisk had at his immediate disposal, super-powered mercenaries not included.

All three glorified thugs were in business suits, but only the smallest, "Fancy Dan" Crenshaw, looked at all comfortable in his attire. After all, he was called Fancy because he wore such clothes on a daily basis. There were twin bulges under his jacket; the well-maintained automatic pistols that were his preferred weapons nestled snugly in their holsters.

His slightly taller compatriot, known only as Montana, tugged at his necktie. Finding it unwilling to loosen up, he settled for fanning himself with his hat, a well-made chapeau fit for a cowboy. Not the stupid ten-gallon cartoon kind, the kind a rancher wouldn't be mortified to be seen in. "How do you wear these things? I can't even breathe in this damn suit!" He placed his hat back atop his head, and checked that his own preferred weapon was still safely tucked away. Yup, the ten-foot bullwhip was still in place.

"Aw, they're not so bad, Monty. I could get used to this," Ox said lightly. This guy was tremendous, at least seven feet of solid muscle. He didn't use a weapon. He didn't need one.

Dan laughed softly. "Loosen up, Montana. It's a beautiful day, we're getting paid just to follow the boss, and we're outta the Big Apple. Think about it…" he lowered his voice, "…No Spider-Man!"

Later, the blame for what happened next was placed squarely atop Dan's shoulders.


The mayor was babbling on endlessly, dwarfed by the gigantic man beside him. Fisk was at least seven feet tall, and his broad shoulders and thick arms were layers of fat and muscle. His diamond-topped cane tapped against the ground with every step, the numerous weapons and gadgets contained therein hidden to the outside world. As he walked down the stairs in his custom tailored white suit, Fisk considered the past week.

Wilson was feeling pretty pleased with himself. His latest donation would keep him in good standing with authorities nationwide for some time. The fact that it was the local police being paid meant that, between the boys in blue and those "Teen Titans" Fisk kept hearing about, local crime lords would have their hands full. His, ahem, "business" dealings that were the real reason for his visit had proved quite fruitful. And those do-gooder Titans couldn't touch him, because A. they were public service, not vigilantes, and B. they didn't even know Fisk was "allegedly" a criminal overlord. And best of all, there was no chance that those pests Daredevil or Spider-Man could ruin things for him. Life was good.

The chief was a bit less in awe of Fisk, so he was actually more worth listening to then the mayor. At the moment, he was saying, "Heh. With this donation, we might be able to give the Teen Titans a break."

The mayor was immediately in agreement. "Oh, yes indeed! Those kids do a wonderful job defending the city, but I'm sure they must feel in over their heads what with the amount of crime on the streets. Even if they do have that new team member of theirs."

"New member? You mean Terra?" Fisk inquired absently, more to have something to say then from any real interest.

"Oh, no. Their other new member. There are seven Titans now." Fisk hadn't paid much attention to the local news, so he hadn't heard about this individual. Heads were going to roll when he got back home though; the report he had been given on those potential troublemakers ha said there were only six.

"Surprised you hadn't heard, though," The chief added. "He's from New York. You've probably met him, or at least seen him."

Wilson was starting to get a seriously bad feeling about this. A teenaged superhero from New York City? There weren't many of those running around…

"Uh… who is this fellow?"

"He's a total nut! The good kind, though. Real sense of humor. Calls himself…"

"Hiya, Willie!" Oh dear lord no…

The most obnoxious being to ever enter Fisk's sight had just made his presence known. Spider-Man leapt down from his perch on the building above and landed lightly before the group on the steps. "Long time no see!"

"Not long enough…" Fisk ground out from behind clenched teeth.

"What was that, Willie? You sound like you aren't happy to see me. Well, I guess that's natural considering the number of times I've gotten you arrested for conspiracy, homicide, extortion, fraud… y'know. The works. But I gotta ask: Have you been working out? You look… well you look like a bucket of lard on a bad day, but less so then normal."

The mayor was beside himself, not understanding what this hero was doing, insulting a wealthy contributor to the city. "Spider-Man, what are you doing? Do you know who this man is?!"

"Of course I do. He's Wilson Fisk, Kingpin of Crime in New York City, overlord of all shady dealings within twenty miles of the Big Apple, and reigning champion of the 'Fattest Sack of Crap in the World' contest for thirty years running."

"I will have you know that I have never once been convicted of so much as a parking ticket, much less any of those heinous crimes you have slandered me with!"

"That's because you throw around enough cash to buy a small country every time I bring in evidence against you. I have already realized that nothing I can do to you could ever bring you to justice, you'll always slither through the cracks and buy your way out of any trouble you're in."

"And if that's the case, then do persist in slandering me so?!"

"Because it's fun. And because you turn such an interesting shade of purple when you get mad. You fatty-fatty-fat-fat-tubby-tubby-tub-of-lard-fatso of a fat man, you."

Fisk was currently turning the shade of purple Spidey had mentioned. The mayor was flabbergasted (A/N: I love that word. Say it with me! Flabbergasted), the chief looked entirely amused, and the enforcers were terrified beyond speech. They had been looking forward to not getting their butts kicked by a kid in long underwear for once.

"I think I'll get straight to the point. Do you remember when you said this?" Spider-Man produced a pocket tape recorder from somewhere, and thumped the play button.

"…and exactly what sort of equipment is it you require?" Fisk's voice boomed out of the recorder's speakers. The response was soft, quiet, and the voice was all too familiar.

"I believe this file should tell you everything you need to know."

"…Indeed. It seems you intend to conquer a small nation."

"Or perhaps a large city. Can you provide the weapons?"

"Of course I can provide you with the weapons. However, it will not come cheaply…"

"Of course."

"And what, pray tell, do you intend to do with such entirely destructive armaments?"

"I do not recall divulging my reasons as part of our deal. Although I do not hesitate to tell you that phase one is to destroy those insufferable Titans."

"Of course. Such beings would certainly be a fly in the ointment to a plan such as this. Rest assured, Mr.…"

"Slade. Just Slade."

"Rest assured, Slade, that with the technology I provide you could destroy even the Justice League."

Spidey turned the recorder off. "Well?"

Fisk had dropped the purple-faced bit, and had gone completely pale. He was busted. He was so busted that he was surprised that Spider-Man hadn't already made a Humpty Dumpty joke. He barely noticed the horrified stare the mayor was shooting his way, or the smirk on the chief's face. It was going to take another small fortune to make that tape disappear, and it would be months before he could resume business as usual.

Oh, to hell with it. One more try couldn't hurt, could it? He turned to his enforcers. "Get him!" They stared at him like he was a total loon before reluctantly following orders.

Raven and Beast Boy dropped from the rooftop they were watching from, landing next to Spider-Man. The thugs stopped, realizing that their odds, abysmal as they already were, had just gotten worse.

"Hi, guys. Came along to watch the fireworks?"

Beast Boy grinned. "Yup. Robin wanted us to make sure you didn't get in over your head."

"Do you have so little faith in me as to think I can't handle a couple of yahoos like these idiots?"

"No. We just didn't want you hogging all the fun."

Beast Boy stared at Raven for a minute after she said that. The only time he'd ever heard her say something like that, or have that battle-hungry look in her eyes for that matter, was within the confines of the magic mirror. He dismissed the thought for the time being, focusing back on the now emboldened thugs.

Raven found herself squared off against Fancy Dan and his twin automatics. He managed to squeeze off three rounds, all of which were stopped dead against Raven's mental shield, before she smirked and willed the weapons to collapse in his hands. One of the larger pieces of the formerly deadly weapons rose by its own accord (or so it seemed) and clocked Dan in the back of the head. He went down hard and stayed there.

Beast Boy took the form of a lion and faced down Montana. The enforcer's whip cracked, and Beast Lion hopped back by a few feet. Montana snapped the whip again, barely managing to keep the changeling at bay. He managed to keep that up for a few minutes, but before long Beast Lion leapt upon Montana, ignoring the whip's stinging caress. He shifted to the form of an anaconda and wrapped himself around the thug, positioning his serpentine face right in front of Montana's nose. He bared his teeth, hissed menacingly, and slowly began to add pressure… until Montana screamed and passed less then a second later.

That left Spidey to deal with the Ox. That didn't last long. Wham, bam, thank you Sam. Ox stood triumphant over the unconscious body of the fallen hero.

Just kidding. Spidey beat the tar out of the giant.

Fisk stood alone. The mayor and he chief had backed away from him, watching as three rather skinny and not-at-all-dangerous seeming teenagers completely humiliated three professional bodyguards. Spider-Man webbed the unconscious thugs together, and turned toward the living mountain. He knew it wasn't over. Fisk never went down without a fight.

He was right. A tingle on the back of his neck provided just enough warning to jump out of the way of the business end of a diamond-topped cane, swung with such force that the gem cracked the pavement where it struck. "I am so entirely sick of you." Fisk was once again purple with rage. He swung his cane again, and Spidey once again dodged the strike.

"Aw, Willie, now that isn't nice! You keep that up and somebody might get hurt!"

Fisk was moving far more swiftly then his bulk would suggest. He was swinging rather wildly as he ranted, but with enough skill to prove that he knew how to handle a weapon. "If there is one thing I could accomplish, one achievement that would let me die a happy man, it would be to silence your endless babbling!"

"Really? Well, if that's the case… fatty fatty tubby tubby chubby fat fat lardy lardo tub of lard fatso fatty chubby chunky tubby chubby spare tire fatty fatty fatso fat fat fat. When you run, they measure the speed on the Richter scale. Thanks to you, Baskin Robbins is down to three flavors. If you went out in platform shoes, you'd come back in flip-flops…"

Fisk let out an inarticulate howl of rage, and attacked all the more wildly for it. Even Spider-Man was hard pressed to dodge the series of blows, any one of which could have taken his head off.

"Now I'm annoyed. I told you someone was going to get hurt." Spidey snatched the cane from Fisk's ham-sized hand in mid swing. He twisted the reinforced metal of the last-ditch-weapon into a pretzel. "And you had to have realized I meant you."

He dodged a massive fist. "I'm gonna hit you with the biggest thing around… you." Spidey grabbed the fat man's collar, put his other hand on Fisk's belly, hauled back, and threw. Fisk sailed straight up to a distance of about ten feet, and came straight back down. He left a crater shaped like a massive ass in the marble staircase of the Town Hall.

Spidey tossed the pocket recorder to the chief. "There you go. Do the right thing with that, will you?"

Fisk groaned, and looked at the chief. "I have a checkbook right here, and I can put all kinds of numbers in it if that tape disappears…"

The chief was tempted. Anyone in his right mind would be. But then he felt the scrap of paper webbed to the small device he was holding, written in case of just such an eventuality: "There are a dozen more copies of this tape, and I have a video camera recording this whole thing from the roof."

"You have the right to remain silent…"

Beast Boy stepped forward. "Can I? I haven't had the chance to make any fat jokes yet."

"Oh, alright. Make it quick."

"You have the right to remain tubby. Anything you eat can and will be used against you in the court of Weight Watchers…"


The three heroes watched as Fisk was loaded into a paddy wagon. Since he took up so much space, his thugs had to be put in another van for transport to the police station's holding cells.

Raven smirked at the crime lord, despite knowing he would once again be at large within a week. "And you would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for us meddling kids."

"And the dog," Beast Boy added before turning into a Great Dane.

After the police had cleared out, leaving the mayor to explain to all of the news teams that had shown up what the hell had happened, the three Titans regrouped on the roof of the Town Hall. Beast Boy turned to the others. "Okay Raven, what's the deal? How did you make a joke down there?"

"Simple. I thought of something that seemed funny, and said it out loud."

"And since when do you do that? In fact, you've been acting kind of weird for a while now… ever since you spent those three days cooped up in your room. And you two have been hanging out a lot… what's going on?"

The two stared at him for a minute before turning to each other, acting as if he weren't there.

"Y'know, I expected that Robin would figure it out first, but I'm surprised Beast Boy noticed before Cyborg or Terra."

"Even Starfire would have noticed, I would think. This is unexpected."

"What?! Figure what out?!"

Raven smiled at him. It took him a few seconds for Beast Boy to process what he was seeing, in that time, Spider-Man spoke up. "You noticed that Raven wasn't acting normal."

"Actually, that I am acting normal. Normal person type normal." The two gave Beast Boy a simplified account of what happened last week, leaving out a few key details.

"You've got to be kidding me… you've been normal for a week? And you didn't tell us?"

"Nobody asked except Robin."

"Let's not worry about it for now, alright?" Spidey looked around. "Looks like our work here is done. Want to grab some pizza?" The others agreed, and all three made their way to the pizzeria with the full knowledge that Raven's transformation would be public knowledge in the Tower by this time tomorrow. Beast Boy never could keep anything to himself.


Far away, on the outskirts of town, a lone figure robed in shadows studied the city before him. He had traveled far to get here, and now his target was nearly in his grasp. But there was a complication. The target now had several powerful allies, more then even the shadow's prodigious might could overcome. He'd need to find a few comrades of his own if revenge was to be his.

The figure cast one more spiteful glare at the city before him before slinking off to locate prospective allies. A long, serpentine tongue writhed between a mouthful of three-inch fangs as the death-dealer hissed a quiet promise. "Soon, little spider, soon…"


A/N: Sorry this took me so long to post. Essays combined with writer's block can really slow things down. Well, next chapter is the special Halloween edition! I want to have it up by Halloween, so be sure to send me lots of motivation (reviews are accepted, but cash is preferred).

Here's some feedback to your feedback:

Metgear5: After reading your review, I sat there for a whole three minutes as scenes of incredible carnage and mindless destruction flickered in front of my mind's eye. All I have to say to your suggestion is this: BRILLIANT! A mercenary? Perfect! I had thought of the ol' unstoppable pants before, but dropped the thought because I couldn't work out how to include him reasonably. I can't do a chapter like that for a few chapters because the next few need to follow a specific order, but I'm definitely going to do that eventually! BRILLIANT!

Super Saiyan Jesus: In case you couldn't tell, I'm leading up to one of those guys making an appearance. But the main reason I'm responding to you is to say that you have the coolest pen name ever!

Wyld Stallyns: Just wanted to say sorry again for the misspelling thing. You've never seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail? Go! Go rent it right now, and no more (something you rather enjoy) until you see one of the greatest films to be made by British people ever. Seriously. It's rather humorous.

Hopefully, the next chapter will be up before long.

Oh, and I'm not kidding about that Freakazoid thing. Somebody write something like that, and I'll dedicate a chapter to you.