Disclaimer: I do not own any of the featured Marvel characters, but I did create the character Brie. She's mine :
The Daily Bugle. Its just your basic forty-six story office building: deadlines to fill, coworkers you don't know, and a boss that is anything but the ideal role model. The boss was J. Jonah Jameson. I'm sure you've heard of him.
Jameson was the publisher and editor-in-chief of one of New York's least respected newspapers. He was so bent on destroying Spider-Man that sometimes he lost sight of what was best for his own paper. But this reputation-ruining hothead was in fact Peter's boss, and he did hold him in high esteem. What Jameson thought of him, however, was another matter entirely.
"Parker! Where's Parker?" Jameson's voice carried through the office.
Peter gulped as he entered the musty office. It smelt of cigar smoke and the air was thick. The walls were lined of front-page editorials and articles that Jameson had written in the 'old glory days' when he was a reporter.
"Mr. Jameson, sir. You rang?" Peter addressed his boss. His famous mustached square head was looking out the window. He threw his cigar down into the streets below and lit a fresh one as he turned to the freelance photographer. "Parker! What do I pay you for, remind me."
"Is that a trick question?" Peter asked.
"PARKER!" Jameson hollered, not appreciating the boy's sense of humor.
"I'm a photographer, sir." Peter sighed.
"EEER! Wrong answer, thanks for playing, buh-bye!"
"What do you mean?"
Jameson threw a rival paper at Peter from across the desk. Then another. Then another. The desk was covered with newspapers and Peter peered down at each one.
"Obviously I don't pay you for photos, because we're the only paper in this frigging city that doesn't have Spider-Man on the front page!"
Peter rubbed a bruise on the back of his neck. "Ha. Sorry, Mr. J."
"You're normally in the middle of this action!"
"I was." Peter grumbled under his breath.
"Oh. Nothing." Peter looked at one of the front pages that was framed on the wall, ignoring Jameson's rant. The framed newspaper was the first-ever editorial ever done by J.J.J. on Spider-Man. Peter had gotten an excellent shot of Spider-Man climbing up a building, his eyes looking straight at the camera. It had been Peter's first time getting a photo on the front page.
Peter pointed to the picture. "Nice work on my part, eh?" He had not realized that he had interrupted Jameson.
"Sure, kid. But that was back then. Now I barely get a picture of two broads walking their dogs from you."
"You want me to take a picture of old ladies and their dogs?"
"My point is, that photo you did on the wall is different from this compelte crap you're handing me now! How am I to prove my point what this maniac is really up to when your photos only show one side of the situation, if they show a side at all!?"
Peter frowned. "I'm...sorry?" he didn't understand. His photos were the same as always! What was he going on about?
Jameson sat back in his black leather swivel chair, his feet on his desk, and puffed on his cigar. "Spider-Man is a criminal! A crook! And your photos used to back that up!"
Peter shrugged. "Okay then. Uh, I actually developed Spider-Man, in action, fighting Doc Ock. Maybe you can use some of them in the way you want to…?"
Peter threw the file on his desk. Jameson fumbled through it. "Get outta my office, Parker! Get me more photos!"
Peter nodded and went out the door. Jameson always lectured him on how to take better photos, but he couldn't help but feel that this time it was different from his everyday If-You-Screw-This-Up-You're-Fired routine.
Peter passed Betty Brant, the secretary outside Jameson's office. She was listening to the radio intently, her ear up to its speakers.
"Hey, Betty." Peter smiled.
"SHH! No! Hey, Mr. Jameson! Listen to this!"
Jameson ran out his door and silenced the room. Running over to the radio, he pushed Betty out of the way and turned the volume up.
The voice coming from the speakers said: "The escaped criminal commonly known as Electro is rampaging around Times Square with over one million dollars stolen from a bank earlier today…"
Mr. Jameson clapped to get everyone's attention. He stood on Betty Brant's desk, crumbling some papers she had been working on. Peter saw the look in Betty's eyes that she wanted to push her boss right off.
Mr. Jameson yelled: "Okay! I want my news team out there! Brock—you get out there! Sorry, Parker, I need good shots of this one."
"Mr. Jameson, can I at least try?" Peter said, ignoring his snickering rival Eddie Brock who moved from behind.
"Knock yourself out." Jameson said, throwing his hands up and getting off the desk.
Everyone rushed about, getting their supplies and preparing to cover the story of the latest escaped supervillain.
Little did they know that Peter was already on his way, wearing his trademrk red-and-blue tights. He sighed as he followed a line of police cars with their sirens wailing. Jameson had really given him a beating today. It wasn't bad enough that he sold pictures of his own alias Spider-Man and the fact that they were used to ruin his reputation, but now the man who used the photos was telling him they weren't good enough. Sheesh.
Oh well. Beating the tar out of Electro would make him feel better. It always did...