[center][b]Throwing a Hissy Fit
By: VeronicaFoxx
For: Hunter Woods[/b][/center]

Peter crouched atop a billboard on the edge of Manhattan island watching the sun setting over the bay.  It was good to take a peaceful moment every now and then to just appreciate life and the world and the beauty that could be in it.  He spent a lot of time down in the dingy streets helping to clean up the human (and non-human) dirt that covered the city, but not everything about NYC was crime and criminals.  Even superheroes got a day off every now and then.

Of course, every time he had that thought, there ended up being some new catastrophe.  For instance, the sound of screeching brakes and tearing metal.  With a wistful sigh, he flung himself out over the street and shot a web to catch hold of the nearest building, allowing him to swing in a graceful arc towards the sounds of destruction.

"A hero's work is never done," he grumbled, though with a grin in his voice.  He [i]enjoyed[/i] being a hero, no matter what old sourpus J. J. called him.

He went north for two blocks then cut right, finding the source of the disturbance.  An OsCorp transport truck was being robbed.  One side had been ripped open, and a security guard came flying out of the hole as he watched.  As lightly as he could, he landed atop the trailer and crept towards the opening that had been created, wondering who or what had caused it.  As he peeked inside, though, his Spider Sense flashed a warning, and he bounded away to cling to the side of a nearby building as a canister of some unknown chemical came flying out right where his head had been.

Then came a hissing, "Sssspiiiiider-Maaaaan."

It was followed by an angry snarl and another canister.  This one he caught with a quick flip and set carefully on the ground, webbing up the first to prevent it from leaking and causing untold havoc.  Who knew what Osborn had been cooking up in his labs?  But that voice...  It was familiar, but different.  It wasn't until he saw the green-scaled beast-man in a torn labcoat step into the rent in the transport truck's side that he realized who it was.

"Dr. Connors?  Aren't you still supposed to be in the hospital?  I don't think your primary physician would approve of this kind of activity."

The Lizard was unamused, but the nearly braindead reptilian half of Curt Connors never could take a joke.  It leapt towards him and threw a mailbox, followed by flipping a car in his direction.  The first was easy enough to dodge, but the second forced him to catch it, carefully setting it down so as not to cause any further harm to its two screaming occupants.  By the time he had made sure they were okay, Connors was already halfway down the alley, both chemical canisters in hand.

What he could want with them was anyone's guess, but Peter knew that no good would come of it.  Unfortunately, the reptilian creature ducked behind a dumpster to avoid his webs, and he was forced to pursue on foot.  Aaaaand, as almost always, the Lizard had ducked into the sewers...

"Ugh, it always takes weeks to get the smell out!" he complained, carefully looking through the manhole entrance.  "I'm sending you my drycleaning bill!"

With the way clear, he quickly ducked through to cling to the ceiling of the sewer tunnel.  Unfortunately, it seemed that the Lizard had been one step ahead of him.  He had only a mere glimmer of warning before he was smacked into the wall by a thick, powerful tail, knocking the breath out of him and sending stars shooting across his vision.  He didn't get a chance to recover, either, as the Lizard slammed into him, making him feel like a squashed bug.  He was vaguely aware of being lifted, then swung, and pain blacked out everything else.

When he had recovered enough to regain his senses, he found himself held tightly by the curled reptilian tail of his former teacher and colleague.  The Lizard was... doing chemistry?  Peter shook his head to clear it, but that didn't change anything about the scene before him.  He looked on as a pipette was adjusted to let chemicals from one nearly boiling beaker flow into a flask that already held a mixture of some sort.  This was then poured into a vial and corked off before being shaken vigorously.

"Since when did you go all Breaking Bad, Doc?" Spider-Man quipped, unable to help himself despite his predicament.

The Lizard turned swiftly to face him, flexing his tail to squeeze the air out of him once more.  He could hear his bones crackling and popping, but he was still too groggy to do much more than squirm.

"Awake, gooooood," Connors hissed, grinning at him with razor-sharp teeth.  One hand reached behind him and came back with a digital voice recorder.  "Firssst ssssubject, batch number sssseven.  Ssssubject conscious, resssstrained.  Findingssss to follow."

He set aside the recorder and plunged a syringe into the cork stopper of the vial, withdrawing what was certainly an unhealthy portion of the mixture.

[i]Oh, this is bad,[/i] Peter's panicked thoughts were racing in circles.  [i]Dr. Connors must have found a partial solution to his Lizard problem, but I don't think this is a good time to bring it up![/i]

He squirmed and flexed, trying his best to break the reptile's hold on him, but the thick tail was coiled too tightly to even breathe.  He barely even felt the sting of the needle as he was injected, but he most definitely felt the fire that spread through his bicep afterwards.  Then he was flung across the room to bash against the wall, free at last but bruised and battered as badly as anything the Rhino had managed.

"What... did you do to me?" he managed to gasp, pulling himself up to stand swaying as the Lizard observed.  "Dr. Connors, what did you do to me?  What did you do to yourself?"

"Sssspider-Mannnn," the reptile growled.  "Made better, sssstronger.  Ssssoon all will be better.  No more hurting.  No more death.  All will be Lizard!  All will be sssstrong!"

As he threw his hands up in premature triumph, Peter took the opportunity to send a pair of impact webs at his arms, sticking him to the wall to kick and hiss in anger.

"Don't have a hissy fit, Doc, this is for your own good!"

The burning was growing worse, though.  He stumbled over to the computer beside the chemistry set and tried to pull up a menu, but his hands weren't working right.  Whatever he had been injected with was acting like acid on him, scorching its way through his system.  It made his joints ache, his muscles burn, and since when did he start doing arm day three times a week?  His bicep was bulging, straining at his torn suit.  And the green tinge to his skin was definitely a bad thing.

[i]All will be Lizard?[/i] he wondered, his vision swimming as the burning reached his brain.  [i]Oh... oh, this is really bad...[/i]

He continued trying to use the keyboard, but the claws that that sprouted from his fingertips got in the way.  After a third time mis-clicking and ending up in the wrong place, he smashed the useless machine in a fit of rage.  What good was a computer, anyways?  He was strong enough to take on anything, nearly half again the height he had been, and he could feel the power in his new muscles, feel the sharpness of his claws as they cut through plastic and metal.  His jaws could crush, his tail could squeeze!  He would... he wasn't sure what he would do, but it would involve lots of biting and crushing!

"Don't have hisssssy fit," came a soft, hissing chuckle.

He turned to find another lizard standing behind him, taller, stronger.  A dominant male, easily capable of killing and eating him.  He backed away a few paces, lowering his head in a submissive bob.

"Goood, good."  The Lizard took up the recorder and spoke into it.  "Ssssubject ressssponds perfectly to treatment.  Ssssubject Hissssy consssidered ssssuccesss.  Now for the resssst of the cccity."

[center][b]The End[/b][/center]