Thrill Ride

Many of the students attending the first day of classes at Empire State University's Fall 2007 semester were feeling decidedly mixed emotions. On the one hand, summer had ended, which meant more working and less partying for most of them. On the other hand, many of them were genuinely looking forward to returning to class, eager to resume their studies. Some students greeted old friends from previous years, others wandered around looking for classrooms, and still others were headed for the Administration building to try and work out any number of details with their schedules or their tuitions.

After all the chaos New York City had endured the past summer, particularly the gang war that had led to the Green Goblin's downfall and the destruction of the Maggia, the start of the semester provided an oddly comforting sense of routine, the feeling that everything was finally back to normal.

Gwen Stacy felt that way as much as anyone. She'd finally confronted and defeated the depraved Jack O'Lantern, rescuing her Aunt Nancy and the dozens of other people Jack O'Lantern had taken hostage to lure her into a fight. At the same time, Gwen had been thrilled to learn that her mother had returned to work in a full-time job at Richmond Industries. Almost all of the costumed supervillains she'd fought as Spider-Woman were now in prison, and although that new supervillain cartel, the Tomorrow Legion, was still active Gwen had every intention of continuing to do her part as Spider-Woman to fight it.

Walking across campus with her friends Harry Osborn and Liz Allan on their way to their morning classes, Gwen smiled serenely as she brushed her hair back from her face. She was ready to put all the chaos of the past year behind her, and try for a fresh start in a new school year.

SPIDER-WOMAN #33

"THRILL RIDE"

Harry was the first one to leave when they reached the Media Studies building. Waving goodbye to the girls, Harry flashed a wide smile as he headed for his first class, seeming happier than he'd been in a long time.

"Harry's pretty cheerful this morning," Gwen grinned to Liz as they continued on their way. "Was he really that eager for the semester to start?"

"Believe it or not, he was," Liz nodded. "He couldn't wait to get started on his Film classes. That's what he's switched his major to now."

"Wasn't he in Business before now? Or Finance?" Gwen raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, and he hated every minute of it," Liz replied. "He only took those classes because that's what his father demanded. Norman was the one paying for Harry's tuition. Now that Harry's paying his own way, he's a lot happier."

"He really deserves it," Gwen smiled. "He always used to seem like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders."

"So did you," Liz reminded Gwen. "You seem a lot better these days too, though."

"That's because I feel a lot better these days," Gwen did her best to suppress a giggle. "Not to mention it's really nice to just have a fresh start, you know?"

"Too true," Liz suppressed a smile of her own. "Say, wasn't Kitty going to be coming with us?"

"Her first class isn't for another hour," Gwen shook her head. "She wants to start getting some more sleep at night with classes starting and everything."

"Well, there you go," Liz chuckled. "Anyway, this is my stop," she continued, turning in the direction of one of the academic buildings as Gwen headed for the other. "I've got English this morning-how about you?"

"I got another one of Dr. Curt Connors' Biology classes," Gwen replied. "I was really lucky, too-you'd be surprised at how fast his courses fill up."

"No, I wouldn't," Liz laughed. "Take care, Gwen!" she waved, before turning and continuing on her way.

Gwen knew she was some twenty minutes early for class, but she didn't really mind waiting. Checking her makeup one more time in her hand mirror, she nodded in satisfaction. She had kept her attire simple for the first day, putting her hair in a long ponytail and wearing a baseball cap, a white tank top, a pair of jean capris and her favorite high-heeled sandals. The cap-and-ponytail combination wasn't something she normally would have gone with, but it seemed increasingly popular these days.

And, although she would never have said so out loud, Gwen took a certain pride in knowing that, no matter what style she used, she'd look damn good with it and could just as easily set the trends herself.

Waiting in the hall, Gwen looked up in surprise at the greeting that broke in on her thoughts. Coming towards her was a handsome brown-haired man in his early forties dressed in a loose-fitting cardigan sweater over a formal dress shirt and matching pants, his feet clad in penny loafers.

In one hand he held the large leather briefcase favored by so many of Empire State University's professors, while in the other he held the cane that he leaned on to support his weak left leg. Dr. Curt Connors hadn't changed at all since Gwen had last seen him, still possessing that same dry wit and affable manner that endeared him to his students. He was among the most popular professors at Empire State both for his friendly, easygoing manner and his engaging and informative lectures. Dr. Connors' classes were highly sought after, since he could make the material understandable for even the least scientifically-minded students who only took his classes to satisfy the science requirements of their majors.

"It's good to see you again, Doctor," Gwen smiled at Dr. Connors as she moved to open the door to the lecture hall for him.

"Thank you, Gwen," Dr. Connors returned her smile. "It's good to be back. I take it I didn't scare you off the first time?" he joked, referring to the introductory-level course Gwen had taken with him in her freshman year.

"You haven't seen scary until you've dealt with some of the personalities in the world of modeling," Gwen chuckled. "Now those people are scary."

"I do have to warn you, though, this material is considerably more difficult than it was in the introductory course," Dr. Connors frowned. "I noticed you had quite a bit of trouble with that class."

Gwen shifted uncomfortably at that, unable to look Dr. Connors in the eye. Her grades in her freshman year hadn't been nearly as good as she'd hoped. In between fighting crime as Spider-Woman and the other issues she'd had in her personal life, she'd had less time for studying than she would have liked.

"I...had some problems," was all she could say.

"Then you'll need to be careful," Dr. Connors warned her. "This is a hard class, and I'm afraid I'm going to have to be a lot tougher on my students than I am in my freshman courses. You can't afford to fall behind if you take a sophomore class with me."

Gwen couldn't stop herself from frowning in turn, although she managed to avoid sighing in frustration. She knew Dr. Connors was just trying to help her, and she knew he was right, but she wished that she could let him know just why she'd fallen so far behind the rest of the class in the first place.

"I know, Doctor," Gwen nodded. "I think I've got things sorted out better this year."

"I'm glad to hear that, Gwen," Dr. Connors smiled, his demeanor brightening in an instant. "If you ever need any additional help, just be sure to let me know. And trust me, you're not the only student who'll have trouble with this class."

Gwen smiled in appreciation at that. She thought she had everything better organized this year, particularly with her mother doing so well now...

...but inwardly her stomach was already turning in knots at the thought of how she'd balance her schoolwork with all the other demands on her time, something she hadn't realized until Dr. Connors reminded her of it.

"So why this girl in particular?" the Kingsley Cosmetics talent agent asked his boss as he pondered the photos sitting on his desk.

"Just look at her," Roderick Kingsley grinned at him. "Aside from the obvious, she has some of the best camera presence I've ever seen. She can be warm and friendly, coy and teasing, cold and austere, you name it. She'll be able to sell our new fragrance all by herself!"

"Well, she is pretty damn hot," the agent grinned. "Her name was Gwen, right?"

"Yeah," Kingsley nodded. "Her contact information is in the file folder. Make it happen."

It was just after lunch that Gwen had gotten the call on her cell phone, asking her to come to the university registrar's office. She was completely at a loss as to why they would want to speak to her, and despite thinking it over for the fifteen minutes she waited in line she still hadn't figured it out by the time it was her turn to speak to an administrator.

"What's the problem, exactly?" Gwen asked curiously.

"The problem is with your tuition payments, I'm afraid," the administrator frowned, pushing her thick glasses up on her nose. "It seems your payment system didn't take this year's tuition hike into account."

"...What? That's impossible!" Gwen replied in astonishment, flabbergasted that she could have gotten it wrong. "I double-checked the paperwork before I submitted it to the student loan office!"

"See for yourself," the administrator shrugged, printing out a copy of the documents and handing them over to Gwen. Much to Gwen's dismay, she found that the administrator was right, and that the money she'd be getting for student loans was calculated based on the 2006 academic year, and not the 2007 one.

"...How could this happen?" Gwen groaned, rubbing her temples.

"It could be a problem at the loan office," the administrator suggested. "They might have made a mistake."

"So it won't be a problem, then?" Gwen asked, brightening immediately. "I mean, it was the loan guys who messed up, not me, right?"

"Even so, it's your responsibility to make sure all your fees are paid in full," the administrator frowned. "These fees will still be considered as outstanding on your record."

"But it wasn't my fault!" Gwen protested. "I did everything I was supposed to do!"

"Even so, there's nothing else I can do to help you," the administrator shook her head. "If you can't work things out with the loan office, or come up with the money in some other way, you won't be able to continue your studies, I'm afraid."

Gwen opened her mouth to protest, but then realized that it wouldn't solve anything. Doing her best to keep calm, she briefly thanked the administrator and left the registrar's office, fuming in annoyance.

Her mood was not helped by calling the loan office. In between trying to negotiate a ridiculously complicated touch-tone menu, being kept on hold for upwards of ten minutes, and then repeatedly bounced around between three or four people, none of whom could help with her problems, Gwen had finally gotten so fed up that she just decided to visit the bank in person. She'd have to hurry once her last class was done so she'd be able to go to the back and then return home to get ready for work, but if everything went right she'd make just in time.

Janice Olivia Yanizeski checked herself over in the mirror, admiring the way the metal parts of her costume emphasized her curves. She'd specifically asked the Tinkerer to ensure that her figure wasn't obscured, and to her delight she found that the Tinkerer had more than lived up to his reputation of giving his customers exactly what they wanted. Along with the skintight black bodysuit and a matching mask that left her bright green eyes, long blonde hair and perfect white smile visible for all to see, Yanzieski also wore a set of golden gauntlets, boots and torso armor that were blended with the bodysuit into a single garment. The metal components were perfectly crafted and fitted onto the bodysuit, such that the suit's wearer lost nothing either in mobility or in sex appeal as she moved.

J. Olivia (as she preferred to be called, owing to her hatred of her first name of Janice) had been looking forward to this for weeks. She'd needed a lot of practice to get used to the special energy-manipulating gauntlets and the costume the Tinkerer had made for her, and probably would have gone crazy with boredom if she hadn't reminded herself of what she'd be able to do once she'd fully mastered her equipment.

Until now, she'd realized, the thrill had been gone from her life. Her sexy figure and gorgeous face had made men and women of both sexual orientations want her in the worst way, and the flings she'd had had been fun for a while. But doing it with men was so depressingly normal, and girl-on-girl action was hardly even subversive anymore, particularly when the media used it to attract straight male audiences. The rave and free party scene had also lost its appeal, particularly once she'd gotten too used to the ecstasy and ketamine highs. Even absinthe had proven to be absurdly overrated.

The solution had been so obvious, J. Olivia couldn't understand why she hadn't come up with it before. From what she'd heard, many costumed supervillains committed their crimes as much for the thrills and the pleasure as for the wealth they could acquire. Getting in contact with the Tinkerer hadn't been too hard, as the drug dealers she'd met on the rave scene turned out to have plenty of connections. The hardest part had been coming up with exactly what kind of powers she'd wanted, but fortunately the Tinkerer had been a huge help in explaining exactly what kind of options she could choose from.

All that was left was for her to choose a codename.

The energy batons she was able to generate with the devices on the end of her wrists could be slammed together to create a deadly blast of energy, or take control of any electrical device they came into contact with. She'd chosen them as her weapons in part because they meshed well with the martial arts style she used to study, and she also relished the sheer destructive power they gave her.

The batons, sticks, call them what you like, filled her with joy.

Joystick it was, then.

Already agitated from her conversations with Dr. Connors and the university administrator who'd told her about the error on her student loan applications, Gwen grew even more frustrated on her way to the bank. The bus she boarded had gotten stuck in traffic, finally arriving at Gwen's stop a good ten minutes behind schedule. Glancing at her watch with rising worry as she made her way towards the bank, Gwen went in through the front door...

...and felt her heart sink at the long lineup of customers who were already there.

Fifteen minutes of waiting in line turned into twenty, as many of the customers ahead of Gwen were clutching large handfuls of paper or thick briefcases. By now, Gwen wondered how she could possibly get to work on time, particularly since she'd probably have to resort to webswinging if she intended to return home to get her uniform. Maybe she should have gone home and gotten her uniform first, but she would have gone out of her way...

Finally, though, there was only one more person in line ahead of her, a middle-aged woman who was holding only a single check. Another customer looked like he was just about done with his teller, too.

Like everyone else, Gwen was so wrapped up in thinking about what she wanted to discuss with the tellers that she was caught completely off guard by the explosion that blew the front doors off the bank. Everyone was knocked off their feet by the shockwave, but the reddish bolt of energy that had blasted through the doors also blasted through many of the customers and employees, leaving them bloodied and unconscious on the floor.

Amid the screaming and shouting that erupted in the bank, Gwen struggled to her feet and looked towards the front doors in alarm. Standing there was a beautiful blonde woman with bright green eyes, not much older than Gwen herself, dressed in a skintight black bodysuit and mask with gold-colored metallic gauntlets, boots and a matching chest guard. In her hands, she held a pair of batons made of glowing dark red energy, and the manic look in her eyes matched the crazed tone of her voice when she spoke.

"Oh hell yeah!" she grinned widely. "That's what I'm talking about!"

"Who the hell are you?" demanded one man who'd managed to get to his feet.

"Duh, isn't it obvious?" the young woman smirked. "I'm here to rob the fucking bank! As for who I am, the handle's Joystick. Wanna see why?"

Cackling under her breath, Joystick slammed the energy batons in her hands together, releasing another shockwave of energy that instantly flattened one of the security guards who was drawing a weapon on her. Whirling around, Joystick repeated the motion again and a third time, taking out the other two guards and several other bystanders as she began laughing out loud.

Those people who could still stand began to flee, running for the front door and emergency exits. Joystick ignored them, instead striding confidently up towards the tellers, who were too frozen with fear to move.

Gwen didn't waste the opportunity, joining the rest of the crowd who were trying to flee.

"What, are you scared?" Joystick smirked as she came up to the tellers. "Come on, I won't bite."

"You...won't..." one female teller tried to stammer.

"Please," Joystick snorted contemptuously. "Don't you people know everything's online? I don't even need to carry the damn money out," she continued. As if on command, a series of metal wires and cords emerged from the devices on her wrists and plugged themselves into the tellers' computers. Random numbers and images flashed across the computers' screens, before they shut off and the wires retracted into Joystick's wrist devices.

"Electronic transfers," Joystick grinned. "No fuss, no muss!" she laughed. Turning around to leave, Joystick stopped short as she saw another young woman charge into the bank, a woman with the long black hair and red and gold costume of the spectacular Spider-Woman.

"Well, hello!" Joystick leered, generating her energy batons once again. "I suppose you're going to try to stop me? Too bad, so sad, I've already cleaned out the bank's accounts!"

"That doesn't mean I'm not going to try to stop you," Spider-Woman replied evenly, taking care not to make a move that could set Joystick off. "You're going to pay for hurting these people."

"You mean like when I tried to crush them?" Joystick laughed, as her eyes took on a chilling light. Faster than Spider-Woman expected, Joystick had struck her batons together again and fired a pair of energy blasts at two of the main pillars holding the ceiling up. Laughing maniacally, Joystick then fired another blast at the ceiling, riddling it with cracks. As the ceiling started to crumble, Joystick rose into the air, seemingly pulled by her batons. Flying straight up, she crashed through the weakened ceiling, still laughing all the while as the damaged ceiling and pillars finally broke. A dreadful rumbling filled the air as the upper floor of the building collapsed in a hail of debris, threatening to crush the people who still lay within the bank.

Her heart pounding like a jackhammer, Spider-Woman somehow managed to spin a net of webbing against the intact walls of the bank that caught the debris before it rained down on the wounded people. Up above, Spider-Woman could still see a cackling Joystick through the hole in the roof.

"Gee, that was fun!" Joystick leered once again, her batons glowing brightly. "Gonna try and stop me? 'Cause I'm gonna keep doing this if you don't!"

Whooping with excitement, Joystick took off, as Spider-Woman emerged from the bank and took to the air, web-swinging after her.

Joystick fired several blasts of energy at Spider-Woman, but the arachnid heroine managed to deflect them with her sting blasts. She occasionally tried shooting back, but she had to pick her shots carefully to avoid endangering any innocent bystanders. Not that it mattered, as Joystick's speed and agility seemed to match her own and she easily dodged Spider-Woman's blasts.

Unfortunately, while Joystick could move as freely as she wanted to in the air, propelled by her equipment, Spider-Woman was more limited because of her need to swing from building to building. Hence it was that Joystick caught her full-on with an energy blast that sent her flying through a window and crashing into an upper-level office. Spider-Woman lay there unconscious for several seconds before Joystick came flying in after her, blasting her again as she tried to get up. People screamed and fled as Spider-Woman went flying again, this time crashing into a series of filing cabinets and falling over them before rolling around on the ground. Despite her dizziness, she recovered more quickly this time and rolled around Joystick's next blast, which tore a large chunk out of the floor. Springing to her feet, she deflected yet another of Joystick's blasts with a sting bolt from one of her hands, and used the other hand to zap Joystick with a sting blast of her own.

As Joystick reeled, Spider-Woman entangled her with webbing and charged in, intending to subdue her and carry her back for the police. Unfortunately, to Spider-Woman's horror Joystick was able to use her energy batons to stretch and snap her webbing, tearing free as Spider-Woman bore down on her. Dodging Spider-Woman's first punch, Joystick slammed her across the back with one of her batons, before slamming her across the chest with the other baton as she stumbled. Reeling in pain, Spider-Woman just barely managed to dodge the double baton swing that Joystick tried to bring down on her head.

Still lying on the ground, Spider-Woman shot her webbing straight up at Joystick's wrists as she brought her weapons up for another strike. Joystick suddenly stopped short, pulling at the webbing as Spider-Woman refused to let go. Her concentration broken, Joystick momentarily let her batons disappear. Seizing the opportunity, Spider-Woman leapt to her feet and pulled hard on the webbing, dragging Joystick towards her. Getting a second wind, Spider-Woman began beating on Joystick, intending to subdue her.

Joystick proved to be stronger than Spider-Woman expected, resisting her pulled punches, but in response Spider-Woman simply started pounding Joystick with her full strength. Although Joystick tried to generate her batons again, Spider-Woman was faster and smashed the devices on her wrists, ruining Joystick's weapons and leaving her helpless.

One last punch in the face was all it took for Joystick to collapse. Wearily, Spider-Woman wrapped her fallen foe in webbing, before leaving the damaged office to take Joystick back to the bank.

The police and the emergency crews were already treating the injured back at the bank when Spider-Woman arrived, carrying the half-conscious Joystick with her. Other people were trying to clean up the wreckage, or were arguing heatedly with the bank tellers.

"...How many people were hurt here?" Spider-Woman asked one of the police officers as she peeled her webbing off Joystick.

"At least sixteen," the officer muttered in disgust. "Seven of them are dead."

Spider-Woman felt a bitter disgust rise up within her. She looked down contemptuously at Joystick, now handcuffed with the special power-dampening restraints and being placed in the back of a squad car, utterly baffled by the fact that Joystick had apparently done all this simply for the thrill of it.

Disgust was replaced with horror as Spider-Woman realized that she hadn't settled things with the bank yet. Turning around, she ran frantically to where she'd hidden her street clothes, feeling sick as she realized just how late the time probably was.

"...You mean, you can't help me?" Gwen pleaded, becoming increasingly frantic as she realized what was going on.

"No, I can't," the teller sighed sadly. "All our accounts are empty. With all the damage that girl did to our system, it's going to be at least a few weeks before we get all the details sorted out. I'm really very sorry."

"...It's okay," Gwen sighed. "I mean, I really hate to bother you at a time like this, but...I..."

"It's okay, sweetie," the teller replied. "Just look at everyone else," she gestured, pointing to the other customers who were either arguing with the rest of the tellers, shouting angrily into their cell phones, or frantically going through their paperwork.

Gwen suddenly felt a terrible headache, and not just from the beating she'd taken at the hands of Joystick.

Turning to leave after she'd been looked at by one of the paramedics, she headed for home to get her waitress uniform, knowing that Mr. Spencer was going to have a fit when she finally arrived.

"Gwen, where in God's name have you been?" demanded Mr. Spencer as she finally staggered in. "The shift started an hour and a half ago!"

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Spencer," Gwen sighed as she picked up a serving tray. "I was at the bank when it got robbed by a supervillain," she said ruefully, turning to leave.

"You know, it wouldn't be that much of a problem if this was only the first time you were late," Mr. Spencer replied, folding his arms in annoyance. "But this is the seventh time you've showed up late since you started working here! The other girls keep having to cover for you! That's not fair to the rest of them!"

"Please, I'm sorry, I-" Gwen tried to explain, but Mr. Spencer cut her off again.

"No excuses!" he said angrily, his voice rising. "If you can't show up for work on time, I'll get someone who can! Is that clear?"

An increasingly aggravated Gwen wanted to scream at him, pointing out that the reason she kept coming in late was because she kept having to save some innocent person from being robbed, raped or killed by the latest psychopath to put on a warped Halloween outfit.

All she could do, though, was stew in her own frustration.

What a day, Gwen thought to herself as she entered her apartment building, holding her head in her hand . It couldn't possibly get any worse...could it?

"Gwen?" she heard a voice calling her name. Turning around, Gwen saw that the caller was her landlady Edna Muggins, who co-owned the building with her husband.

"Yes, Mrs. Muggins?" she asked wearily.

"I thought I should let you know that I'm going to have to hike your rent," Mrs. Muggins replied. "I'm really sorry, but our insurance rates are going through the roof and this is the only way we can make ends meet."

In addition to a headache, Gwen now felt like she was about to get an ulcer when Mrs. Muggins told her how much the rent increase was going to be.

"It's okay, I understand..." Gwen sighed, wondering how on Earth she and Kitty were going to be able to make the rent.

Stomping upstairs and slamming the door to her apartment in frustration, Gwen wanted to scream out loud, to punch something, to tear her hair out, anything to release her frustrations. Everything seemed to be going wrong all at once, and every time she dealt with one problem it seemed like two more-

Gwen's train of thought was interrupted by the sobbing she heard as she entered into the living room. Sitting on the couch was Gwen's roommate Kitty Pryde, crying bitterly as she held her head in her hands.

"...Kitty?" Gwen asked in horror, forgetting everything else. "Kitty, what's wrong?" she asked, sitting down next to her mutant friend and hugging her tightly.

"Who...oh, Gwen," she mumbled, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I...you don't know...they...my uncle..."

"Your uncle?" Gwen asked, feeling sick to her stomach as she realized what Kitty was saying. "What about him?"

"It turns out he was actually that masked psychopath Jack O'Lantern," Kitty muttered. "After that Spider-Woman person beat him, he was unmasked and the media got a hold of his real name. Then they started tracking down his relatives."

"The media?" Gwen asked, disgust coming into her voice.

"Not just them," Kitty said bitterly. "The families of Jack's victims. Aunt Karen's house ended up splattered with rotten produce and dog crap. They had to call the police at my mom's work. And just look at the Daily Globe," she spat, pointing to the table where a newspaper sat.

If Gwen had felt sick before, she wanted to retch after reading the news article. LIKE UNCLE, LIKE NIECE?ran the byline, under which were pictures of Steven Mark Levins and Kitty Pryde side by side. Glancing through the article, Gwen saw that it public identified Kitty as a mutant and speculated on whether Levins' powers and murderous tendencies were due to his being a mutant himself.

"I found that in our mailbox," Kitty explained once Gwen had put down the article. "Along with a note,"

"...A note?" Gwen asked in confusion. "Where is it?"

"The police took it for evidence," Kitty explained. "It was all in cut and pasted letters."

"...What did it say?" Gwen asked slowly.

"Payback's a bitch, freak. We're watching you!" Kitty sobbed. "Gwen...what...what if..."

Gwen was eerily calm as she held Kitty tightly, patting her reassuringly. Inwardly, though, she was boiling with anger, wanting nothing more than five minutes alone with either the Globe reporters who'd penned the article on Kitty or whoever had put the note in their mailbox.

"Nothing's going to happen to you, Kitty," Gwen reassured her gently, raising Kitty's face to look into her eyes. "None of this is your fault, your mother's fault, or your aunt's fault. You're not alone in this-I'll always have your back. Always," she repeated.

"Gwen..." Kitty breathed, a faint smile on her lips. "Thank you..."

Gwen hugged Kitty once again, more tightly this time.

(Next Issue: As Gwen tries to balance all the problems she faces, she's offered a potential solution when Roderick Kingsley offers her some new high-profile, high-pay modelling work. Meanwhile, Kitty and Ben Reilly continue to deal with the fallout of being related to the psychopathic Jack O'Lantern, even as noted criminal psychiatrist Dr. Karla Sofen publishes a number of intriguing propositions on supervillain psychology. All this and more in Spider-Woman #34: An Offer You Can't Refuse!)