It's not hard to see that the lime-shrivelled old hacks who devise the origins of superheroes aren't exactly Masters of Science. The plot devices they employ in origin tales would suggest they got an Ungraded in O-Level biology and physics. Stan Lee in particualr. The ageing American "crackpot" has been responsible for many of the most well-known comics down the years, including that of Spider-Man. According to the turps-withered mind of Lee, Spider-Man was thrust down the comics birth canal when his alter-ego, Peter Parker, was bitten on the nips by a spider which had been "zapped-up" by a ray-gun, or something. This mysterious "Chernobyl Special" somehow gave Parker the ability to act like an idiot in public, possibly ramming shopping trollies into old ladies' shins, and blame it on some stupid condition that made him want to be a "spider-guy". No mention of him getting radiation poisoning, the infected appendages turning a rancid shade of green and dropping off, or him shooting silk out of his arse or anything like that. Stan Lee is an idiot.


J. JONAH JAMESON: Hey, Peter Parker - do you have any photos for me, J. Jonah Jameson, editor of the Daily Bugle?

PETER PARKER: Sure I do. Here I took some of Spider... oh!

J. JONAH JAMESON: Ye gods! What is all that stuff coming out of your mouth?

PETER PARKER: Mostly, ulp, munch... it was mostly flies. And two wasps. Sorry. I hadn't swallowed it properly.

J. JONAH JAMESON: Look - look how you've made me be sick on my desk, Parker.


J. JONAH JAMESON: Hey, Peter Parker - I really hope I never find out that anyone who works for me is secretly Spiderman, because I'd smash them up!

PETER PARKER: Er... ha ha ha!

J. JONAH JAMESON: Why are you laughing, Parker? Maybe... YOU are Spiderman.

PETER PARKER: Don't be ridiculous! Of course not. How could I be?

J. JONAH JAMESON: Well, the fact that you're sitting in a big web makes me a little suspicious.


PETER PARKER: Hey, Jonah, editor of the Daily Bugle, I've got some more photos for you. They're of Spider-Man.

J. JONAH JAMESON: All your photos are of Spider-Man. I find it odd that most of them appear to be photographs of Spider-Man posing in front of mirrors.

PETER PARKER: Well... I... don't know why you think that. That couldn't possibly be the case...


J. JONAH JAMESON: Grr. I really hate Spider-Man. Look, Parker - I've made up this headline about how Spider-Man is a menace to society.

PETER PARKER: Don't do that!

J. JONAH JAMESON: Why not? I can do whatever I like.

PETER PARKER: Yeah, but I just saw Spider-Man doing some good deeds.

J. JONAH JAMESON: Like what?

PETER PARKER: You know: just stuff.


PETER PARKER: Jonah, I wish you'd stop writing these anti-Spider-Man stories.

J. JONAH JAMESON: And what do you care? You're not secretly him, are you?

PETER PARKER: No. I just... didn't think it was fair that you accuse him of trying to sneak into the ladies' changing rooms at the local gym.

J. JONAH JAMESON: How do you know he didn't, Parker?

PETER PARKER: Well... I... because he's a... he... lives... in... webs?


AUNT MAY: Peter Parker, my nephew, are you in here?

PETER: Mmf... munch... No, Aunt May.

AUNT MAY: Peter! What on earth do you think you're doing? What's all that stuff in your mouth?

PETER: Munch... er... raisins.

AUNT MAY: Are... are they flies? Oh, Peter, why are you eating flies?

PETER: Because... I... it's... I've... I've decided to become self-sufficient.


AUNT MAY: Peter Parker, my nephew, it's time to go and buy your new shoes.

PETER: I'm not coming, Aunt May.

AUNT MAY: Peter! How dare you disobey me, I'm... urgh! What's all that stuff coming out of those little slits in your wrists? It looks like webs...

PETER: No, it's, er... it's... oops!

AUNT MAY: Mmmf! You sprayed it in my mouth! Urgh! That's disgusting! Oh, man... I'm gonna puke my guts up.


AUNT MAY: Peter Parker, my nephew, I hope you're doing your homework.

PETER: Don't come in, Aunt May!

AUNT MAY: But, Peter, I... Peter? Why are you wearing that skin-tight shiny suit, with that web-like trim?

PETER: I can... er... explain?

AUNT MAY: Look, I don't want to know. But if you want my advice you should put something on under that before you go out. I mean, I can see everything. And I mean EVERYTHING.


AUNT MAY: Peter Parker, my nephew, I've brought you your tea. Peter, what are you doing? Get down from the ceiling!

PETER: Aunt May! Don't come in!

AUNT MAY: It's too late. How have you affixed yourself to the ceiling like that? Have you been playing with glue?

PETER: Er... not exactly...

AUNT MAY: But how can those polystyrene tiles support your full bodywei... Oh. Are you alright? You appear to have cut your face open, falling to the floor.


AUNT MAY: Peter Parker, my nephew, it's time to go to school.

PETER: I'm not going, Aunt May. I've got to go out and fight crime.

AUNT MAY: Bite slime? What's that mean?

PETER: Sigh. Turn your hearing aid up.

AUNT MAY: Burn my searing grade cup? Are you drunk, Peter?

PETER: No. I'm really Spider-Man.

AUNT MAY: Yearly-by-the-van?

Do you know of any important moments from the annals of Digi history that have been omitted? If so, then mail me ( right now, man. Credit will be duly given for anything that gets put up.

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