Sunday, April 01, 2012

A Bedtime Story with Spiderman & Pop

When GoofBoy was little, the Spiderman movies were still new and he was fascinated. I didn’t want him to see the movies (he wasn’t ready) but he got the gist by osmosis – just like he learned the Star Wars movies before seeing them. Also, one time, at Costco we watched enough of Spiderman Two that GoofBoy had a pretty good handle on it. He would regale strangers, “Dr. Octopus is trying to build a fu-shion reactor and Spiderman has to stop him. Dr. Octopus has robot arms, and he has issues.”

I started telling him stories about another super-hero:
”Bubbe, I want some ice cream and we are all out!” Pop whined.
Why are you talking about Bubbe and Pop? You promised me a Spiderman story!

I just started, give it a minute.
“So go to the Wawa and get more,” Bubbe replied.

“But there’s too much traffic!”

“So fly!” Bubbe said, exasperated.
What’s zacerbated?

What I’m going to be if you don’t let me tell this story!
So Pop went down to his workshop and built a jetpack. He went upstairs, strapped it on, pushed the bottom and zoomed off to the Wawa to get some ChubbyHubby ice cream. When he got back home, Bubbe was furious! Pop’s jetpack had left ashes all over the house. So, after Bubbe was done yelling at him, Pop finished his ice cream and went back to his workshop.

He stayed down there a long time. When he finally came up, he had done it. He made, not a jetpack – but a heli-pack, powered by eating ice cream. Pop was having the best time, flying around town - thuk, thuk, thuk and eating ice cream. The best thing about it was that the ice cream went to power the heli-pack so Pop wasn’t getting chubby – in fact he was losing weight.

But one day, he went flying and he heard something pop in the propeller over his head. Suddenly he couldn’t steer, he was just flying around in giant circles – and he was running out of ice cream, which meant the heli-pack would run out of power. Just as he was on his last scoop of ChunkyMonkey, suddenly Spiderman swung by!

“Having some trouble?” the friendly neighborhood Spiderman asked?

“I am, my gyroscope is busted and I just keep flying in circles.”

Spiderman sat on the side of a nearby building and fired a web at the propeller. It stopped spinning, and Spiderman put Pop down on the sidewalk – right next to a Wawa.

“Thanks Spidey!” Pop yelled.

“No problem, Pop, you ok from here?”

“I think so, I owe you one!”

So Pop went into the Wawa where the store clerk yelled, “Hey Pop – what flavor ice cream today?”

All the Wawa clerks knew Pop. Pop got his ice cream, and some duct tape (you can fix anything with duct tape) and flew home.

A few days later, Spiderman was battling the Green Goblin by the Bay Bridge. The Green Goblin had captured Spiderman’s girlfriend and had her tied up and dangling over the water. But he also had rockets pointed at the bridge so that cars were going to fall into the Bay. There was no way he could save his girlfriend and the bridge.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere thuk, thuk, thuk, thuk, thuk.

It was Pop on his heli-pak eating rum raisin ice cream. He had followed the blinking lights. Spidey looked at Pop and nodded. Pop put down the ice cream and switched to reserve power.

Spidey moved in and slugged the Green Goblin with one hand and shot webs at the rockets with the other. When he dropped Spiderman’s girlfriend, Pop swooped in and grabbed her.

When they landed, Spiderman and Pop shook hands.

“Thanks Pop,” Spiderman said.

“Anytime!” Pop answered and he flew off into the night.
”Does Bubbe have adventures?” GoofBoy asked, hoping for yet another bedtime story.

The idea for this story had come to me in a vision of my father flying around town in a heli-pack, possibly inspired by images of Baron Harkonnen in the movie Dune. Suddenly, I had another vision, of my mom in aviatrix gear (bomber jacket, goggles, and scarf) flipping Amelia Earhart the bird.

“Oh yeah, when Pop gets lost, which happens a lot, Bubbe has to fly out and look for him.”

“Bubbe flies?”

“Sure, she flies an old Spitfire. Winston Churchill gave it to her.”

“Tell me! Tell me!”

As much as I wanted to do my Winston Churchill impression, it was enough.

“Another night Buddy.”

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