Party Crashers

"Terminated?" George Stacy snapped into the telephone as he sat in his office, his face turning red. "What do you mean, terminated? I'm the one that put you in touch with Senator Finster, I'm the one that got you the contract in Baghdad, and I'm the one that-"

"Times change, George," Simon Utrecht replied calmly. "I just feel that my needs can be better served by another agent. Recent...controversies have forced me to reevaluate my options," he said evasively. "That's why I've decided to seek the services of another agent."

The reply was pure bullshit, and they both knew it.

"Don't tell me you're buying what those fucking muties were saying!" George thundered, his knuckles white as he tightened his grasp on the telephone. "They just picked me as an easy target! Lies, that's all they were!"

"Just keep telling yourself that, George," Utrecht said unflappably. "You ought to know that, sometimes, it pays to keep a low profile. And now, unless you're prepared to continue wasting my time, I have work to do," he finished, before hanging up the phone and leaving George to stew in his own rage.

Simon Utrecht was the fifth client to break away from George in the last month, ever since the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants had exposed his dealings with the Friends of Humanity to the world when they had taken his sister, niece and ex-wife prisoner. Whatever biases they may have held against mutants, many people were wise enough to keep such thoughts to themselves, and didn't care to be associated with prominent anti-mutant activists.

The fact that George had refused to talk to the press or make any kind of statement at all after the Brotherhood had made their demands public couldn't have helped, either.

Opening his desk drawer and taking out a bottle of whiskey, George took a long, hard pull on the flask, savoring both the kick of the alcohol and the wonderful tingling sensation it made as it passed down his throat. He took another drink as he looked over his accounts, and was filled with such a sudden rage that he had to take a third swig to keep his mood from deteriorating any further.

It was too bad his ex-wife Helen wasn't around.

He really needed to hit something.

SPIDER-WOMAN #18

"PARTY CRASHERS"

Gwen Stacy lay back on the couch at her apartment and groaned as she looked through the results of her midterm exams. First had been her Biology exam-she had been lucky to get a C-minus on that one. Then there was her English exam, on which she got a D-average. Her other subjects weren't much better-hell, she'd been lucky to even get the B on her Drama project.

She yawned wearily, worn out from checking up on her mother's bank accounts, putting in as many hours as she could at the coffee shop, her crimefighting as Spider-Woman, memorizing her lines for A Streetcar Named Desire, and trying to keep up with her studies. Unfortunately, she hadn't been getting much sleep lately, and it was starting to catch up to her. On the other hand, now that Spring Break had begun, hopefully she would be able to get caught up on everything...

Checking her watch, she was astonished to find that it was almost 4:40 PM...and she was supposed to meet Randy at 4:20 for the final casting call of A Streetcar Named Desire. Despite the three weeks since their first audition, the director Mr. Llewellyn hadn't yet made his decision on who would be cast, being too occupied with overseeing the repairs to the Aristophanes Playhouse, which had been damaged by the supervillain riots and which had just finished this week. Now, with his schedule clear, Mr. Llewellyn was ready to announce his cast...

...and Gwen realized he wouldn't be impressed at all if she arrived late, as she already knew she would.

Gwen burst into the theater as Mr. Llewellyn and the other actors stood onstage, before freezing in embarrassment as they all looked at her in surprise. Mr. Llewellyn merely stared at her in annoyance, tapping his foot impatiently.

"As I was saying," he resumed crossly, as a flustered Gwen came up onstage, "I profoundly regret the repeated delays in staging my play. Along with the demand for my previous masterpiece being far higher than I anticipated, I have had the distinct displeasure of needing to repair and renovate the Aristophanes Playhouse after the...'unpleasantness' with the supervillains some weeks past," he said euphemistically. "Fortunately, I have the pleasure of being able to announce that production is now ready to begin, and I have found a suitable cast...despite the unprofessional conduct of some of my potential aspiring actors," he finished, scowling at Gwen as his eyes narrowed.

All she could do was look down, shamefaced. Web-swinging to the Students' Union Building as Spider-Woman, Gwen realized that Randy had already gone on his own to the theater, and so she had followed him as fast as she could, despite the fact that she was almost half an hour late for the casting call, which clearly wouldn't endear her to her fellow cast members or her director.

"I have prepared several copies of the script for my actors to study," Mr. Llewellyn began, as he began distributing them to several people in the group. "The cast list is on the front page. If you have been chosen, you have proven your thespian worth, and I look forward to working with you. If you have not, then I will thank you to leave the Playhouse and not return until such time as you have developed whatever talents you believe you possess."

Several people in the group muttered to themselves, scowling at Llewellyn as he passed them by without handing out a script. It was all Gwen could do to avoid following suit, being more than a little annoyed with the director's arrogant tone. Much to her surprise, however, she found that she'd been cast after all, and brightened as she looked at the cast list.

Then she found she was cast in the rather minor role of the Strange Woman.

Frowning, she looked up in surprise at Randy, who was all smiles as he realized he had gotten the lead male role of Stanley Kowalski. Gwen came over to him and gave him a congratulatory hug.

"Great job," she smiled at him. "I knew you could do it!"

"So, are you going to be my lovely wife?" Randy grinned, as Gwen blushed in embarrassment.

"Er...uh..." she stumbled.

"You didn't make it?" Randy said sympathetically. "Tough break."

"No, I actually got cast..." Gwen said in some confusion, looking at the script again, "but as the Strange Woman."

"Wonder why he went for that," Randy answered, scratching his head. "But hey, at least you got in!"

"Yeah, that's great," Gwen made herself smile. "Look, I've got to get ready for work tonight, but I have tomorrow night off. You want to get some dinner or something like that tomorrow?"

"Now you're asking me out?" Randy grinned. "I must have built up some real good karma lately."

As Randy walked over to introduce himself to some of their castmates, Gwen headed for the door, looking through her purse for her bus pass. She only briefly looked up to say good-bye to Mr. Llewellyn as she walked past him, although he merely grunted something in reply.

It was only after she had gotten on the bus that she realized the deep scowl she'd seen on the director's face as she was leaving the theater.

For some reason, it made Gwen distinctly uncomfortable.

The last person Liz Allan expected to see at her door was Harry Osborn, particularly a Harry who looked as somber and downcast as this one did.

"Harry?" she said in surprise as she opened the door. "It's so good to see you! Here, come in, come in!" she said brightly, pulling him into the room and shutting the door behind her. "How have you been?"

"I've been alright," Harry said, glancing from side to side as he rubbed his hands. "How about you?"

"I'm a lot better now," Liz smiled. "You don't know how much I was worried about you..."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," Harry murmured. "How'd midterms go for you?"

"Well, I didn't completely lose my mind," Liz grinned. "Actually, I did pretty well. How about you?"

"Yeah...I..." Harry said in a low tone, looking ill at ease. "I don't really know how I would have done, what with everything going on."

Liz paused in surprise, the smile vanishing from her face.

"....Would have done?" she asked in confusion. "Harry, what do you-"

Harry sighed, before passing his hand over his face.

"I dropped out for the semester," Harry said, a painful grimace on his face.

"Dropped out?" Liz asked, completely flabbergasted by Harry's words. "Harry, why would you-"

"It's just something I needed to do," Harry replied flatly. "Otherwise, I...can't...I mean..."

"Why would you need to do something like this?" Liz asked urgently. "I mean, what could be so important as to-"

"I've got some serious problems," Harry shook his head, "and I have to deal with them. Now. Otherwise, my life will be ruined."

"Ruined?" Liz repeated, shock turning to concern. "What could ruin your life?"

"I have to be my own man, Liz," Harry replied, more firmly this time. "And until I am, there's no reason you should have to put up with my bullshit."

"W...what?" Liz asked in surprise.

"Gwen was right when she pointed out that we've both treated you worse than you'd ever deserve," Harry said. "And she was right when she said that if I can't treat you better than I have, I don't deserve you."

Liz's blood ran cold.

"Harry, what-"

"You deserve better than me, Liz," Harry spat, his face downcast. "If I was more of a man, maybe I'd deserve you, but I don't."

"You're...breaking up with me?" Liz asked in astonishment. "Harry, whatever your problems are-"

"-they're too big for me to treat you the way you deserve," Harry said sadly. "It's not you, Liz-until I work this out, I can't do a damn thing for anyone."

With those words, he rose to leave.

"Harry, wait!" Liz pleaded, grabbing his arm. "What are you trying to deal with, anyway? Can't I help you?"

Harry paused, before he grasped Liz's hand with his own.

"That's what's going to make you such a fantastic nurse," he smiled gently at her. "That kindness and compassion will take you a long way. But with everything I have to deal with, especially my father, it's something no one else can help me with. I appreciate it, I really do...but this is the way it's got to be."

"If you really want to help me, then just keep being the person you are. You've made so many people happy in so many ways you'd never realize. All you need to do is just keep doing that."

"Just keep being Liz Allan. If you do, you'll have done more for me than you ever know," he smiled sadly, hugging her one last time before he left the room.

Liz didn't even bother trying to hold back the tears as she slumped down on her bed.

"So that's where most of it is going to go?" Gwen asked her Aunt Nancy sadly the next afternoon, as Nancy nodded ruefully.

"It won't be as bad if I can get my own insurance to cover some of it," Nancy replied, "but if it won't, then I'll chip in for the rest myself..."

Gwen frowned as she looked over the application forms, trying to make at least some sense of it. She and Nancy were trying to get Gwen's mother Helen the counseling they felt she needed. Unfortunately, coming up with the money necessary to pay for it had proven to be even more difficult than they had anticipated.

Rubbing at her temples, Gwen realized that, even with the alimony George was paying Helen, it wasn't likely to be enough to pay the full costs of decent therapy. And if Nancy's insurance wouldn't cover Helen as a dependent, it was going to cost Nancy a small fortune to make up the rest of Helen's care.

"Aunt Nancy...I..." Gwen began.

"Gwen?" Nancy asked in surprise.

"I just wish there was more I could do to help," Gwen said miserably. "I mean, you shouldn't have to pay for this by yourself..."

"It's alright, Gwen," Nancy replied firmly. "I don't mind, really. Besides, why don't you stay with us too?"

"And make the place even more crowded?" Gwen smiled half-humorously. "No, I'd just be in the way. Besides, it's too far to school from here. I appreciate it, really, but this is something I've got to do myself," she shook her head.

"If you insist," Nancy sighed. "Just remember, though...if you ever change your mind, the door's always open. You going to stay for dinner?"

"I already promised some friends I'd go out with them," Gwen shook her head again. "Maybe sometime later this week?"

"Sounds good," Nancy grinned, as she hugged her niece. "Take care until then, okay?"

Gwen's mood was a little better as she made her way to the bus stop, until she was startled by her cell phone ringing. Opening it up in surprise, she wasn't sure whether to smile or groan when she saw the number.

"I know it's your day off, Gwen," her boss Mr. Spencer was saying on the other line, "but I need you down here as soon as I can. Jessica broke her arm at home and she won't be able to come in today."

"Well, I..." Gwen trailed off.

"Look, Gwen, if there was any other way around it, I wouldn't bother you," Mr. Spencer replied, "but you've got to come in. If you need to go home and get changed, fine, but otherwise get down here as soon as you can!" he finished, before hanging up.

Scowling angrily, Gwen shut her phone, forcing herself to remember that she had been hoping for additional hours anyway. Heading for home to get her uniform, she began thinking about how she would break the news to Randy, knowing full well how disappointed he'd be.

She was almost to the bus stop when she heard the crash and gunshots, and the burglar alarm blaring.

It was all she could do to keep from screaming out loud in frustration, as she frantically searched for a place to change.

"This coffee is too hot!"

"They mixed my latte wrong!"

"I changed my mind-can you bring it back in a different size?"

Running around back and forth at work during the dinner rush wasn't Gwen's idea of a fun evening, particularly when just about every customer she served somehow managed to come up with a different complaint or quirk in their orders. First, Mr. Spencer had read her the riot act for taking so long to arrive. As much as she would have liked, Gwen couldn't explain to him that mind that she had been forced to stop a bank robbery as Spider-Woman, before swinging back to her apartment and frantically trying to clean herself up from the robbery fight before changing into her uniform and making her way back to work.

Then another one of the waitresses had gotten sick and had to leave, forcing Gwen to help cover her customers too. Every time she tried to sit down and take a break, she was called over by yet another nitpicking customer, who proceeded to ream her out because she had apparently gotten their order wrong, or they wanted more cream, or anything else.

Her feet aching abominably from running around for more than six hours, Gwen tried to keep her mind focused as she continued serving the customers. In spite of herself, her mind kept wandering, drained and weary from a lack of sleep. It was all she could do to concentrate on the latest order she was taking, from a large middle-aged woman who seemed to have a permanent scowl stamped on her face.

"What do you mean, you're out of Blue Hawaiian?" the woman shouted at Gwen, slamming her fist down on her table in anger. "I always have Blue Hawaiian when I come here! Go check again!"

"Ma'am, six other people have asked for Blue Hawaiian," Gwen replied testily. "None of them were able to get it. We don't have any more."

"Bullshit!" the woman shouted. "If you did your job properly, you'd do what I say! Now get me my Blue Hawaiian!"

Finally, the dam burst.

"Maybe if you were smart enough to come earlier, we wouldn't be out of it!" Gwen shouted, finally losing her temper. "We're all out of Blue Hawaiian! Are you deaf, or just stupid?!"

The woman stared at Gwen in astonishment, her mouth hanging open, before she began yelling for the manager.

"You ought to know better than that, Gwen," Mr. Spencer lectured Gwen as she sat in the break room after they closed for the night. "Since when does being rude to the customers get us anywhere?"

"But, she-" Gwen protested.

"No buts!" Mr. Spencer snapped at her. "Now, I had to give Mrs. Jannetty a $200 gift certificate in apology for your yelling at her. That's coming out of your salary, you understand."

Gwen opened her mouth to try and protest again, but her head was already throbbing.

She just didn't have anything left.

Wearily, her shoulders slumped in exhaustion, Gwen staggered to her feet and headed for the door, tears of frustration in her eyes.

A perfect ending to a perfect day.

Gwen maintained the same stoic composure all the way home, even managing to hold back her tears as she walked into her apartment building. She was hardly aware of where she was going, guided solely by instinct as he made her way up the stairs, and it was only through luck that she managed to react and avoid hitting the young man coming down the hallway in the opposite direction.

It took Gwen a moment to recognize Ben Reilly, Kitty's cousin, who began to smile in recognition before shifting to worried concern as he saw the expression on her face.

"...Are you alright?" he asked, slightly alarmed. "What happened to you?"

She opened her mouth to reply, ready to vent her frustrations, before she fell silent.

"It's...nothing," she mumbled, trying to push past him, but Ben grabbed her arm and held it in a surprisingly firm grip.

"No, it's not," he pointed out. "Now, what's wrong? Come on, you can tell me," he said, more gently this time.

She really didn't want to dump on Ben the way she had done on her other friends, but he refused to let her go.

"...It's just one of those days where absolutely nothing's going right," she sighed. She tried to push past him again, but Ben continued to maintain his grip.

"Well then, you could obviously use a break," Ben smiled. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"I barely even know what I'm doing tonight," Gwen muttered, making a weak attempt at a smile.

"Well then, why don't you come with me to this special charity dinner and dance at the Plaza Hotel? A friend of my dad's gave me his tickets after he decided not to go."

Gwen blinked at him in surprise.

"What's the dinner for?"

"We're doing some fundraising for the families of the people who were killed in the supervillain riots in New York a couple of weeks ago," Ben replied, a frown crossing his face. "Some of those families lost their main providers, and a lot of people were widowed or orphaned," he said sadly, as Gwen frowned in sympathy.

"It sounds like pretty high society," Gwen said in surprise. "How did your father's friend get tickets?"

"He's made a lot of money off his investments, made even more friends," Ben explained, "and my dad used to work for him. He was invited by some bigwig at Stark Enterprises, but ever since his wife got bronchitis he doesn't like to leave her alone at home anymore. So, what do you say?"

Despite her fatigue, Gwen couldn't help but smile.

"Thanks a lot, Ben," she smiled, before giving him a hug. "I appreciate it, I really do."

Ben only smiled back as he returned the hug.

"Have I told you how jealous I am?" Kitty Pryde asked Gwen as she finished applying her makeup. Clad in a scarlet dress that emphasized her curvaceous figure, along with dark stockings and red high heels that drew attention to her shapely legs, Gwen was perfectly clad and coiffed, her long blonde hair flowing behind her as she admired herself in the mirror.

"This is what, the fifth time?" Gwen replied with a smile.

"And you've even got the Manolos," Kitty sighed, admiring Gwen's shoes. "Where did you get them?"

"They were a birthday present from Grandpa Lieber," Gwen replied. "But what I don't get is why you didn't want to go, instead of Ben and I?"

"And get stuck with a bunch of high society snobs?" Kitty rolled her eyes. "No thanks. You do the whole socialite thing a lot better than I ever will."

Gwen was about to reply when they heard the knock at the door. As she opened it, Gwen was momentarily stunned by how good Ben looked. Just the right amount of cologne, a sharp-looking tuxedo, and the fact that he filled it out very nicely all made Gwen blink in pleasant surprise.

Face it, Tigress…" he quipped, amused at her reaction, "…you just hit the jackpot!"

It was then that he realized just who he was looking at, and what she was wearing.

"…And by the looks of it, so did I," he grinned. "You look fantastic."

Gwen couldn't help but smile.

The scene at the Plaza Hotel was just what Gwen had expected, with many of the pillars of New York high society present for the occasion. Looking through the crowd, she recognized the Mayor of New York, communications mogul John Jameson, mutant pop star Allison "the Dazzler" Blaire, and several others. She had heard rumors that the Fantastic Four and Captain America would have attended, except that the Four had been called away to deal with some scheme hatched by the Leader in California, while Captain America had rejoined the Avengers to deal with some sort of Secret Empire problem going on in Washington State.

As Gwen made her way through the room on Ben's arm, she felt a keen sense of pride as she registered the approving stares from many of the other men in the room, and a certain impish pleasure as she felt the jealousy coming from some of the other women.

Gwen would never have admitted it, but she loved these types of high-society social functions. She'd gone to a few of them when she was younger, and she'd always fit right in. So it was as she fell into chatting with a number of the other guests, fitting in just as easily as if she was born to the role. Despite the prestige of most of the prominent actors, politicians, business figures and socialites that filled the room around her, Gwen was not intimidated in the least.

Perhaps the sole exception was when Gwen had the distinct displeasure of running into another young woman about her age, with silvery platinum-blonde hair and a golden dress that clashed with Gwen's own. Gwen should have realized that Felicia Hardy would be at some kind of function like this.

"I thought this party was strictly A-list," Felicia scowled in a catty voice. "Mind telling me how you got here, Stacy?"

"I was invited," Gwen said serenely. "And if it's A-list, how did you get here? Oh...wait..." she continued, as she gave a mock gesture of realization. "Getting spanked by rich old men for favors is pretty lucrative, isn't it? Then again, with hips like yours, I suppose you'd want to lay off the chocolates most girls get from their sugar daddies, right?"

Felicia turned red with anger, clearly resisting a desire to begin strangling Gwen on the spot. Fortunately, the tension was broken as their dates came back with punch. Both men recognized the danger, Ben hastily grabbing Gwen and pulling her away as Felicia's date did the same to her.

"That was that Felicia Hardy lady, right?" Ben asked Gwen.

"Yes...if you use the term 'lady' in the strictest sense possible," Gwen replied acidly. "There are a number of other terms I'd use to describe her, none of which can be said aloud in polite society."

"Look, the last thing you need tonight is to get into a catfight," Ben reminded her pointedly. "Just relax and have a good time tonight, alright? We're supposed to be having fun, and you're supposed to be relaxing."

"She just gets under my skin," Gwen sighed. "But you're right-there's no need to be picking fights with her."

"Well, it's not all bad," Ben joked. "You ever realized how pretty you get when you're angry?"

Gwen turned back on him with a raised eyebrow and a half-smile.

"And I'm not pretty when I'm calm?" she asked mischievously.

"What? Of course you are," Ben shot back, not missing a beat. "It's just that you get that perfect flush to your cheeks that accents your eyes."

"...And with that you're back on my good side," Gwen smiled at him teasingly. "Care to dance?" she asked him, as the music started up with one of her favorite songs.

Ben only grinned back at her as she followed him onto the dance floor.

Roderick Kingsley was thoroughly bored by the party, not being inclined to do much else besides sit at his table nursing the one glass of champagne he'd bought at the start of the evening. His wife had insisted that he and Daniel attend the party, knowing the good PR that Kingsley Cosmetics would get from its contributions. That was the only reason Kingsley had-grudgingly-agreed to attend, as he really couldn't have given a damn about any of the people the charity funds were going to.

It wouldn't have surprised him if most of the other guests felt that way too. That was why there were photographers and other media-types here, after all-so the guests could show the public what good citizens they were, and how they were helping those less fortunate.

And so Kingsley had simply sat at his table drinking that one glass of champagne, while his wife chatted it up with her girlfriends. Daniel sat there with him impassively, ignoring the women who tried to flirt with him. A couple of aspiring socialites had tried to get him to sign them to his agency, but the experienced Kingsley could tell right away that none of them had anything resembling talent, and wouldn't have impressed him even if they weren't already so drunk they smelled like a brewery.

One bright spot was when he noticed the gorgeous Gwen Stacy passing through the crowd-and didn't she look sexy in that dress! Unfortunately, Kingsley had to remind himself that he was with his wife, and she had already given him hell on multiple occasions for ogling the talent while she was around.

Finally, Kingsley decided that enough was enough. With a gesture to Daniel, Roderick led his brother over to his wife, who was going back to the bar, and grabbed her before dragging her towards the elevator.

She was already drunk off her ass, of course. With a disgusted sigh, Kingsley merely hit the elevator button as Daniel followed behind him, now practically carrying Roderick's wife.

Ronald Hilliard sat alone at his table, sulking while his cousins tore up the dance floor with their dates. He hated these types of social functions, being forced to go along with his cousins just to keep up appearances. His parents had insisted he accompany his older cousins, probably just to get him out of their hair for the evening. Tall and lanky, with a decidedly homely face, the teenaged Ronald was hardly what one would call a prize catch, even if his face wasn't pockmarked with zits and his greasy hair looked as if he'd just been electrocuted.

Sighing in annoyance, he simply went back to breaking open the fortune cookies he'd stolen from some of the nearby tables, snacking on them with little regard for the crumbs that were falling all over his lap.

Gwen was having a wonderful time, as the party kicked into high gear. She reveled in the simple joy of the music, the food, and the dancing, at being able to leave her problems behind for one night.

Like all the other partygoers, she was stunned by the massive explosion that rocked the wall of hotel behind where the band was playing, leaving a jagged, gaping hole. Getting to her feet, Gwen's heart sank as she saw just about the absolute last person she had wanted to ever run into again.

Everything about him was the same, from the gloves and boots that resembled skeletal limbs to the chainmail of tiny skulls that covered his chest to the hover disc ringed with larger skulls, to the flaming, leering pumpkin head that topped the whole ensemble off. Worst of all was that same haunting, maniacal laughter, that sent chills down Gwen's spin even as it drew out all the old frustrations and anger.

"Is this a private party, or can anyone join?" Jack O'Lantern rasped as he flew into the room and hovered above the crowd, who murmured in astonished confusion. "I suppose I should commend you for your charitable impulses...but then again I was never inclined to condone hypocrisy."

Although his expression never changed, Jack O' Lantern seemed to notice the security guard drawing his gun, out of the corner of his eye. With lightning reflexes, the pumpkin-headed freak whirled and fired a deadly laser blast at the guard, who screamed in agony as the blast tore into him, before collapsing, unconscious.

"Never interrupt a villain's monologue!" Jack O' Lantern screamed in a frenzy, before regaining his composure.

"As I was saying," Jack O' Lantern said serenely, "I find your hypocrisy both alternately amusing and repulsive. How many of you, in all truth, care about the enfeebled victims of crime? I see more reporters here than social workers, after all...is the money you are raising tonight truly meant to assist those in need, or is it more to bolster your own images and assuage your own guilt?"

"What the hell do you want?" one man demanded, finally getting his nerve.

"Shouldn't it be obvious?" Jack O' Lantern seemed to roll his eyes, as he casually tossed a pumpkin grenade into a group of partygoers, who all screamed and stepped over each other to get out of its way as it exploded when it hit the floor. "What I want is all the money from your little charity gathering. Your own wallets and jewelry would also be appreciated..."

It was only through finely honed reflexes that Jack O' Lantern managed to dodge the electrical sting blast. Whirling around in surprise, he recognized the red-and-gold clad form of the spectacular Spider-Woman emerging from the crowd, springing into the air as she spun a webline to reach the ceiling.

"Spider-Woman?!" Jack O' Lantern shrieked, as he fired his wrist lasers at her. "You dare to interfere in my fun?"

"Fun?" Spider-Woman shouted in disgust. "You call robbing innocent people fun?" she countered, as she deflected the blasts with her own stings before coming at Jack O' Lantern with a swing kick.

"Robbing them?!" Jack O' Lantern came back in a rage, cutting through Spider-Woman's webline with a razor-edged crescent moon that came back to his hand like a boomerang. "You honestly think that's all I intend to do to these people? I'm going to terrorize them, torture them, make them scream!"

As she used her wall-crawling abilities to land on the side of one of the pillars in the room, Spider-Woman wasn't sure what horrified her more, Jack O' Lantern's words or the increasingly frenzied tone in which he was speaking.

"Why?" she shouted in anger, springing into the air as Jack O' Lantern came towards her and catching him right in his pumpkin face with a vicious uppercut, before spinning another webline and swinging away, as the partygoers down below broke free of their fear and began to scream.

"Because I know I'm not supposed to," Jack O' Lantern seemed to grin despite the blow. "Because I'm the bad guy. Because I'm evil!" To emphasize the point, he reached into his belt and tossed almost a dozen boomerang bats at Spider-Woman, who tried to dodge frantically. They seemed to home in on her, despite her best efforts to avoid them. She destroyed several with her sting blasts, and smashed a few more, but the rest tore her across her body. Several sliced her limbs and torso, even as one stung her painfully in the back.

As Spider-Woman reeled in pain, Jack O' Lantern pulled several pumpkin grenades from his belt and flew around almost at random, tossing them into the crowd. The partygoers began panicking as they scrambled to avoid the bombs, trampling each other as they ran for the elevators. Screams of pain erupted as a number of people were caught in explosions, others began gasping and coughing as they gagged on the toxic gas clouds that emanated from the shattered pumpkins.

"Hence the irony of my wearing a mask," Jack O' Lantern seemed to smirk as Spider-Woman came at him again. Bursting into that same chilling laughter, Jack O' Lantern came down to floor level, jumping off his hover disc and shrinking it so it fit onto his belt. He began firing random laser blasts into the crowd, hitting the panicking partygoers as Spider-Woman finally caught up to him. Brandishing his fingers, which extended into long, sharp claws, Jack O' Lantern began fighting Spider-Woman in hand-to-hand combat as she lunged at him.

"I indulge my dark side," Jack O' Lantern laughed as they fought, "and in this costume I am my true self. You see what I am, right?"

Spider-Woman only grunted and tried to defend herself. Despite being a third-degree blackbelt, Jack O' Lantern seemed to be her equal and more, kicking her hard in the stomach and slashing her across the back when she doubled over.

"And yet, all these mindless sheep muddle through their lives while attempting to maintain a façade of respectability, hypocritically denying their own natures," Jack O' Lantern laughed, as he blasted Spider-Woman and knocked her to the ground.

Jack reached for a pumpkin grenade on his belt, but stopped as he heard the footsteps behind him. Whirling around, he grabbed the muscular young man who had tried to attack him from behind. Holding him in a death grip, Jack O' Lantern turned back to face Spider-Woman.

"Take this hormone-addled lout, for instance," Jack O' Lantern began. "Would he have really tried to help you if you weren't as attractive as you are?" he seemed to smirk, before extending his talons and plunging them deep into the young man's throat.

As Spider-Woman struggled to her feet, she was horrified to see the man's lifeblood pouring from the gashes in his throat as he fell dead on the floor.

"Hormones, my dear, given the more palatable description of courage. But I know what it really was," Jack O' Lantern finished, seeming to give a satisfied smirk.

Spider-Woman came at him in a rage, blasting Jack O' Lantern at point blank rage with her sting blasts before lashing out at him in a frenzy of punches and kicks. Caught off guard, Jack O' Lantern was pummeled repeatedly before he managed to get his bearings. He blasted Spider-Woman with a double blast from his wrist lasers, but she simply shrugged it off, blasting him right back before catching him with a webline. Leaping into the air and spinning around, she let Jack O' Lantern fly with pinpoint accuracy to send him crashing heavily into one of the pillars, before he slumped down on the ground.

Spider-Woman leapt over the scattered partygoers, some of whom had begun cheering her on, and came down in front of Jack O' Lantern, who now struggled to his feet. Activating his hover glider with one hand and dropping a pumpkin-shaped smoke grenade that sent everyone around him staggering back as they choked on the tear gas that was released, Jack O' Lantern quickly took to the air. Above the coughing, however, the partygoers heard the marching of the police officers who finally came into the room, their weapons drawn.

Flying above the crowd on his disc, Jack O' Lantern flew for the open hole he had torn in the wall, shooting random laser blasts into the crowd to distract them...and cause a little more pain, while he was at it.

"This isn't over, Spider-Woman!" he screamed in that same frenzied rage. "It's just beginning! And before it's over, you'll wish I'd killed you here tonight!"

His psychotic laughter continued to echo through the room as he flew through the hole and into the night. Some of the police officers followed to the hole and tried to shoot him down, but by the time they got there he was already lost on the wind.

"Oh my God," Ben gasped as Gwen staggered towards him, her dress tattered and her body torn, scratched and bruised. "Are you alright?"

Gwen couldn't reply for a moment, still breathing heavily from her exertions. She had been very lucky to find a bathroom where she could change into and out of her costume, keeping the door webbed shut as she did the job. Fortunately, with all the panicking and injured people around, none of them were inclined to notice one more person being seriously hurt, or running to or from a hiding place.

"I made the mistake of getting too close to one of those grenade explosions," Gwen muttered, as she leaned on Ben's shoulders for support. "Some of the shrapnel got me."

"Let's have a look, then," Ben said, as he sat her down gently on a bench against the wall and began looking at her injuries. Gwen offered no resistance, remembering Ben's pre-med training.

Besides, his presence was comforting.

"...You need to have the paramedics look at you," he said firmly, before standing her up and leading her over to the emergency technicians. "You'll need some bandages and ointment for those burns, but you should be okay in a couple of days," he said in some relief.

Gwen leaned on him gratefully, looking around sadly at the carnage she saw. As she would later learn, five people were dead and almost twenty wounded due to Jack O' Lantern's insanity.

"All this for a robbery?" she asked, still somewhat incredulous as she sat down to be treated by one of the paramedics.

"And who knows what else," the paramedic shook his head in disgust. "Cop says few other people said this lunatic wanted to torture them, whatever the hell that means," he muttered, gesturing over to the police officers taking statements from some other victims.

"What I don't get is why these costumed nuts insist on fighting when there's so many people around," the paramedic said in disgust. "I mean, why'd that spider-lady have to go and provoke that pumpkin-headed maniac? All she did was make things worse!"

Gwen simply stared down at the floor.

"Hey, come on!" Ben interrupted with a scowl. "You said it yourself-that Jack guy wanted to torture us. If anything, Spider-Woman probably stopped it from getting even worse than it did!"

Gwen looked back up at Ben with a feeling of sincere gratitude, but on one level she wondered if the paramedic was right.

She might have stopped Jack O' Lantern, but it didn't seem like a victory.

Ronnie Hilliard had a faraway look in his eyes that night, saying nothing and staring intently out the car window as his older cousin drove the rest of the Hilliard men and their dates home after the party.

His cousins had been curious as to the look on his face, but eventually they just put it down to his being terrified by Jack O' Lantern's attack. Ronnie had always been something of a weirdo anyway, with that strange look in his eyes and his tendency to just sit and stare intently at people. He was often alone most of the time anyway, what with the way people tended to be unnerved in his presence.

This time, Ronnie was thinking about the beautiful dark angel who had risked her all to protect him that night, the heaven sent Spider-Woman.

Despite the evil supervillain threatening to kill Ronnie, he had been saved when Spider-Woman had come to his defense.

Everything she'd done that night, had been all for him.

Just for him.

The image of his gorgeous protector stayed with him for several days after that.

Entry #4:

How dare she?

How dare she?

How dare she?

HOW DARE SHE?

Again, Spider-Woman ruins my fun! Again, she protects those sniveling, mindless, stunted, whining troglodytes! She dares to interfere in the affairs of a person of talent and vision, wasting her own abilities in the defence of people who hold back their true natures, who hide behind their own self-righteous masks!

What is she hiding?

That is the question I must ponder as I reflect upon our battles. It is, perhaps, the irony of being the villain, revealing my own inner darkness, that I arouse the wrath of the most pretentious and hypocritical people of all, the heroes. Even as I realize what I am, those who most attempt to deny their baser natures will oppose me.

Perhaps I'm being too angry. After all, even if I didn't get the money-which in some respects is immaterial anyway-I had a lot of fun. I killed a few people, maimed many more, and sent the rest running like frightened cattle.

I've never felt so alive!

Best of all, everything is in place as of tonight. Now I can begin to make Spider-Woman suffer in ways she could never have imagined.

And it will be glorious.

With a satisfied smile, I close the file and turn back to the book I'm reading. I've always been a big fan of Edgar Allan Poe. The man was one of the true literary geniuses of his time, particularly as expressed in The Black Cat. I particularly favor one particular quote:

"I am not more sure that my soul lives, than I am that perverseness is one of the primitive impulses of the human heart...Who has not, a hundred times, found himself committing a vile or silly action for no better reason than because he knows he should not?"

Truer words were never spoken.

(Next Issue: As Gwen tries to get her personal life under control, she faces new personal difficulties trying to balance her relationships with Ben Reilly and Randy Robertson. To make matters worse, the terrifying pyromaniac known as Firebrand returns, intent on murdering several of his former victims, including Gwen's best friend Liz! All this and more in Spider-Woman #19: Firestarter!)