Wrong Number, Spidey

Scary Russian Lady

22

Peter wasn't sure how long he had been awkwardly standing there but it was probably too long. He had intended to get some breakfast, however that plan was forgotten. Without his sugary sustenance, he was still half asleep and slow.

This would probably explain how Peter got to the point of having a gun pointed at him. (Honestly all he did was yawn, screw his eyes shut, open them, and BAM there's a gun!)

"Um, hi?" Peter tried nervously.
It half worked, since he managed to earn a reply from the scary stranger, "Who are you?"

"Who am I?!" Peter asked, outraged, "Who are YOU??? No offense: you don't live here. I just see you on a couch whilst on my way to get some Lucky Charms...or was it Fruit Loops? Ooh what if I mix them together! Forget you heard that. Yeah so I was just going about my day and suddenly there's a stranger who's pointing a gun at me! That isn't very nice, you know. And it's not polite to break in to places either!"

"Hey, hold on a minute!" Rude gun lady protested, "I did not break in! I was invited. Even if I wasn't, I am much too talented to break anything!"
"Oh ok, sorry," Petey apologized.
"AND I was just trying to lie down for a bit, you didn't have to creepily watch me! But anyway, answer my question, who are you?"

Peter knew about stranger danger. He knew a lot. He had been made to sit through a whole talk to make sure he wouldn't just trust people he didn't know because they promised they weren't pedophiles.
Peter knew, very well, that he should not tell this stranger his name.

Taking a deep breath, he harnessed all the wisdom and common sense Doctor Strange had instilled in him, "I, Peter Benjamin Parker, am far too intelligent to fall for that and give my name too someone I don't know. Why don't you tell me yours?"

Ok that didn't have the desired effect. Why was scary lady looking amused?

"I won't tell you my name because I don't know if I can trust you yet, Peter Benjamin Parker."
"HOW DID YOU FIND OUT MY NAME?! Wait... Oh man Mr Doctor Strange is gonna be so mad if he finds out I did it again! And fine, until you tell me your name, I'll just call you Scary Russian Lady Who's Pointing A Gun At My Face.

For whatever reason, this made Scary Russian Lady Who's Pointing A Gun At My Face roll her eyes.

"Can't I just go and get some cereal?" Peter pleaded.
"No."
"Why not!?!?!?"
"Because no!"

Peter would have said of an amazing, soul-crushing quip to counter with, thus establishing that he was a man to be taken seriously, had his stomach not intervened first, lettings out its own hangry growl.

The starving baby spider looked up at the mean Russian lady with desperate eyes, begging for mercy. She, in turn, raised her eyebrows, sighed, and got something out of her pocket (boy did she have a lot of pockets!).

"I'm not letting you go anywhere. If you're really hungry and it will stop your endless whining then you can have this," she offered, tossing Peter a cereal bar.

He quickly checked the ingredients to make sure there wouldn't be any spider unfriendly components, then the integrity of the wrapper to be sure it was sealed properly and hopefully not poisoned.

Glancing suspiciously at the intruder, Peter opened it a took a bite.

Still chewing, he noted, "It's dry. Really dry..."
"I know," she answered, hints of mirth in her tone, "but hey, it's ancient, apparently, and not mine."