Self Insert as Spider-Man MCU
17 Revelations
The smile on Mr. Kinneson's face told me exactly how things were going to progress in robotics class. He handed me a list of things the class had done since the beginning of the year and nodded at the wall of fun.
“Thank you, sir.” I said and put as much emotion into my voice as possible.
“Impress me and you might just make it back onto the robotics team before the next competition in the new year.” The teacher said.
“I'm sorry, sir. I have a part time job and can't rejoin the club.” I said and he lost the smile. “Also, depending on what weight category you want to compete in, if you try for the unlimited category, you could easily adapt a plasma cutter or even a metal circular saw to literally cut through the competition.”
Mr. Kinneson stared at me with his mouth open slightly.
“If you go for the top of the limited category, you could use a small pneumatic jackhammer and a piercing strategy. It won't do much for destroying the opposing robot, except for targeting their electronics or destroying their offensive weaponry.”
The man's expression didn't change, so he still looked surprised.
“If you want to go in there and sweep all of the competition, you could adapt a spinner with weighted ends. It'll smash anything that comes close, no matter what kind of robot it is, and they won't stand a chance against you.”
A couple of the guys already in the classroom cursed.
“We should induct you back in right away.” One of them said.
“I can't. Like I said, I have to work after school.” I said and they looked surprised. “I don't mind sharing more ideas...”
“This is our current design!” The guy nearly shouted and turned his laptop around to show me a 3D diagram of the thing.
“What category?” I asked and walked over to him.
“Under five pounds.” He said and waved at the keyboard. “The specific info is under the help menu.”
I nodded and almost laughed out loud at instantly gaining access to the robot design program and the pneumatic control system program. I browsed through the both of them and nodded several times.
“What are you thinking about?” The teacher asked.
“A launching system.” I said and he looked surprised. “You've got all this space that's wasted with the flipping mechanism and the two hydraulic pistons. Why not pull that and change it to a micro air compressor with a control program and reinforce the flipper arms into a solid piece? You can slip under the other robots and toss them around like toys.”
“That... that... that's brilliant!” One of the other guys exclaimed.
“Are any of you in the mechanical engineering program?” I asked and they shook their heads. I knew that, because I didn't see them there, and I wanted to confirm that there wasn't a second class or something. “It's a good thing I have access to the lab and the CNC machines there.”
“Ben.” Mr. Kinneson said and put a hand on my shoulder. “I'll lift all of my restrictions if you can help the club with this thing.”
“We haven't won a competition in two years.” An older student said.
“Why are you here in the same classroom with the newbs?” I asked and he smiled.
“It's a free period for us and we get extra credit for helping younger year students handle the course materials.” One of them said.
“Cool.” I said and they all gathered around me as we started talking about the design, how it could be changed, and what to do to make it more effective. By effective we meant deadly. We didn't even get to the actual class material and we burned through the classroom time.
When the bell rang, I was the only one of us that moved as the others kept discussing things and the ideas I had given them. I had pilfered their control programs when I copied their old designs to a USB drive and I knew I could easily reproduce one of them and also improve it. I didn't tell them that, though. I wanted to be known as handy to have around and not essential to have nearby at all times.
I went to the wall of fun and stopped myself from drooling. I must not drool! I thought and started gathering up the components I would need to reproduce the first several class labs and a few other parts that I tucked into the piles for my own use.
The detailed instructions Mr. Kinneson had given me were almost a step by step manual to complete the labs. I didn't follow them religiously, however. I needed to prove that I understood what he did and not only followed the provided instructions. I hoped that would make a good impression, despite not being the 'correct' thing to do. Improvisation and innovation was what a teacher of a course like this looked for.
As I worked through the first and second lab projects, I realized Mr. Kinneson was giving us the building blocks to create our own robot inventions. Basic construction using pre-made parts, basic program assembly, basic control mechanisms, and everything else to have a basis for the robotics club. He was essentially grooming students to want to create robots for the competitions.
I had to smile at the sneakiness. It was a great way to find those that had a good grasp of the underlying concepts of robotics and who was just doing the course for the credits without any real passion for the subject. I had passion for it in spades, so I didn't have to worry about it anymore.
I glanced over at the club members and saw Mr. Kinneson nodding along slightly as they worked through several design concepts and created computer designs for the new structural parts. That was the best part about classes like this. The creativity it inspired. The class materials took a backseat when that spark happened and Mr. Kinneson had that same passion for his subject that all good teachers had.
I blew through three of the class labs and put the results of each, including my reports for them and the changes I had applied, on his desk. He waved to me before I left the classroom and I exited the school to catch the bus home. Despite the bad start of the day with classes that I didn't really like, the rest of the day had been great.
I went home, did my homework, cooked supper for May and did up the date table to make her smile and blush a little, then I changed for work and rode the bus to the abandoned building. I had a lot of work to do, including a few little experiments I could do afterwards with all of the electronic pieces I had borrowed from school.
Yes, all things considered, it was a great day.
*
Friday was a good day, with biology lab in the morning and gym in the afternoon. The coach just nodded when I went right over to Liz and her friends. Their workout really was a much more advanced version of the one the freshmen had to do, so I excelled at it. I made sure to pace myself to stay near Liz and her friends, though. I didn't want to show off too much.
“Parker! Head's up!” The coach said as someone threw something at me.
I reached out and caught the football without thinking about it and hugged it like you were supposed to, to keep it safe. A few whistles came from the guys and Liz looked hungry again. The ball had been heading right for her and I had snatched it out of the air almost right in front of her face.
“Damn, kid.” Coach Wilson said. “You're not going to try out for the football team?”
“I can't, I'm sorry. I have a part time job and had to quit all of the clubs I was a part of.” I responded.
“Damn.” He said and motioned to the football. “Sink that in the basketball hoop and you can leave early.”
I looked at the odd shape and at the hoop. “From here?”
The coach shrugged and I nodded.
I took a minute to pretend to get a good grip on the thing, aimed, and paused. “Are you sure you want it in the basket and not in the trash can in the far corner?”
“Which is easier?” The coach asked with a smile.
“The trash can.” I said.
“Then put it in the hoop.”
“Yes, sir.” I said and pretended I was in a cartoon and swung my arm in a circle exaggeratedly to make Liz and her friends laugh, and threw the ball. It flew in a perfect spiral as it arced through the air. It hit the edge of the hoop, flipped over and hit the backboard, then it spun in the air twice before it plopped right down through the hoop.
“Damn, damn, damn.” Coach Wilson whispered and waved acceptance.
“Thanks, coach!” I said and gave Liz a pointed look.
“Go ahead. She'll be useless as she looks for you anyway.” The coach said and Liz grinned at me.
We left to some hoots and hollers and quickly found a spot that was out of the way and made out for quite some time. When gym class ended, we split up to shower and changed into our clothes. After one more kiss, we left the school and I rode the bus home.
I quickly did my routine of homework, cooking, and teasing May a little, before I went to work. The guys had made a lot more piles with bigger chunks, because they started tearing into the walls and the work went faster if they didn't break things up very much. They also knew I kicked concrete's ass with a sledgehammer.
I finished clearing up and went down into the basement to my improvised and hidden lab. I called it that and it was just an old table that I used when I brought my things to experiment with. I never left anything, so there was no proof I had done anything there, and went to work experimenting.
It wasn't until I had built the first web release mechanism that I realized I had a slight problem. I didn't have a computer or a laptop to write the program or to hook it up to the pneumatic control module. It was a small setback, mainly because what I was working on was almost a completely mechanical system and the control system was more for monitoring the pressures of the cartridges and not for running the whole thing.
That was quite important, so I had to do something about that. I wasn't sure what, though. I wasn't going to steal to get the money, even if it would be an easy way to buy a laptop. I wouldn't be able to explain suddenly having the cash, either. So, I would have to come up with some kind of workaround or I would need to wait for my first couple of paychecks.
That was when I remembered my clarinet. I had found the receipt for it and the extra parts, the case, and the cleaning kit. Peter had barely used the thing and it looked brand new, so the $1,500 dollars the thing had cost was a ridiculous expense. The $250 for the case was almost laughable and I didn't even bother looking up the resale value on the extra parts.
I definitely need to talk to May about selling it. I thought and I wasn't really looking forward to that conversation. It would be a huge event for her, because it would let her know that something Peter had been so focused on, wasn't even an interest for me. It would also ram home that I wasn't Peter anymore.
I sighed and packed up everything and left the abandoned building the same way I always did late at night. Up through the elevator shaft. I hopped over to the next building and started to crawl down when I heard a scuffle below in the back alley. I quickly crawled down to see several guys using some kind of tools to try and break into the dump truck.
Anger filled me as I saw one of the guys slip and the screwdriver he was using scraped right down through the Bestman Salvage logo on the driver's side door. Adrian had taken out a huge loan to pay for the truck that was essential for his salvage business.
Fucking thieves! I thought and I jumped thirty feet down and slammed my feet into the guy's shoulders. Two distinct snaps were heard and the guy collapsed to the ground and opened his mouth to scream. I kicked him in the temple and knocked him out as his two friends stared at me.
It was dark in the alley and they might not have seen my face. I couldn't really take that chance, though. My fists shot out and crushed their noses. They made gurgling sounds and dropped to the ground, motionless. I cursed in my head at them for being so goddamn stupid and then actually cursed out loud at myself for also being so goddamn stupid. I had jumped into a fight and hadn't covered my face first.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” I whispered as I thought about what to do. I didn't know of any drug dealers in the area, so I couldn't just dump them in the area and hope for the best. I needed to be smart about things and glanced around. No one was around this late at night, so I wasn't going to be spotted if I was careful.
When I looked at the guy that had damaged the truck's door, I recognized him as the smoking guy I had passed in the stairwell at my apartment building. The bastard must have followed me!
That pissed me off, because I was working my ass off to keep a job to earn enough money to let May relax about the bills, and here was this guy trying to wreck everything, probably because he wanted to buy more cigarettes!
I growled as I knelt and searched his pockets. I found a set of keys, some loose change, half a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, his wallet with a hundred and thirty bucks in it, and his driver's license with his address on it. That meant he wasn't doing this for pocket money. There were several explanations for what he was going to do. He was going for a joyride, someone hired him to wreck Adrian's business, or he was going to try and sell the thing.
I was betting on a joyride, because the two guys with him didn't look like hardened criminals. They looked like his friends and were fairly well off. I looked down at the things in my hands and huffed. I took the money and his driver's license from the wallet and his keys before I shoved the rest back into his pockets.
I was glad that I was still wearing my work gloves as I checked the other two potential criminals. They had another $165 dollars between them and I didn't take the change from their pockets. I did take their keys and licenses, just because I could. It was too dark to identify them otherwise and I wanted to know their names after I dumped their bodies somewhere. Perhaps in the river.
That was when what happened finally hit me and I staggered slightly from the shock.
I had killed them.
Three people were dead.
It had been in anger and it hadn't been in cold blood or premeditated, which I would feel relieved about later. That didn't really matter inside my mind right then, because I had become something I never thought would ever happen.
I was a murderer.
“Thank you, sir.” I said and put as much emotion into my voice as possible.
“Impress me and you might just make it back onto the robotics team before the next competition in the new year.” The teacher said.
“I'm sorry, sir. I have a part time job and can't rejoin the club.” I said and he lost the smile. “Also, depending on what weight category you want to compete in, if you try for the unlimited category, you could easily adapt a plasma cutter or even a metal circular saw to literally cut through the competition.”
Mr. Kinneson stared at me with his mouth open slightly.
“If you go for the top of the limited category, you could use a small pneumatic jackhammer and a piercing strategy. It won't do much for destroying the opposing robot, except for targeting their electronics or destroying their offensive weaponry.”
The man's expression didn't change, so he still looked surprised.
“If you want to go in there and sweep all of the competition, you could adapt a spinner with weighted ends. It'll smash anything that comes close, no matter what kind of robot it is, and they won't stand a chance against you.”
A couple of the guys already in the classroom cursed.
“We should induct you back in right away.” One of them said.
“I can't. Like I said, I have to work after school.” I said and they looked surprised. “I don't mind sharing more ideas...”
“This is our current design!” The guy nearly shouted and turned his laptop around to show me a 3D diagram of the thing.
“What category?” I asked and walked over to him.
“Under five pounds.” He said and waved at the keyboard. “The specific info is under the help menu.”
I nodded and almost laughed out loud at instantly gaining access to the robot design program and the pneumatic control system program. I browsed through the both of them and nodded several times.
“What are you thinking about?” The teacher asked.
“A launching system.” I said and he looked surprised. “You've got all this space that's wasted with the flipping mechanism and the two hydraulic pistons. Why not pull that and change it to a micro air compressor with a control program and reinforce the flipper arms into a solid piece? You can slip under the other robots and toss them around like toys.”
“That... that... that's brilliant!” One of the other guys exclaimed.
“Are any of you in the mechanical engineering program?” I asked and they shook their heads. I knew that, because I didn't see them there, and I wanted to confirm that there wasn't a second class or something. “It's a good thing I have access to the lab and the CNC machines there.”
“Ben.” Mr. Kinneson said and put a hand on my shoulder. “I'll lift all of my restrictions if you can help the club with this thing.”
“We haven't won a competition in two years.” An older student said.
“Why are you here in the same classroom with the newbs?” I asked and he smiled.
“It's a free period for us and we get extra credit for helping younger year students handle the course materials.” One of them said.
“Cool.” I said and they all gathered around me as we started talking about the design, how it could be changed, and what to do to make it more effective. By effective we meant deadly. We didn't even get to the actual class material and we burned through the classroom time.
When the bell rang, I was the only one of us that moved as the others kept discussing things and the ideas I had given them. I had pilfered their control programs when I copied their old designs to a USB drive and I knew I could easily reproduce one of them and also improve it. I didn't tell them that, though. I wanted to be known as handy to have around and not essential to have nearby at all times.
I went to the wall of fun and stopped myself from drooling. I must not drool! I thought and started gathering up the components I would need to reproduce the first several class labs and a few other parts that I tucked into the piles for my own use.
The detailed instructions Mr. Kinneson had given me were almost a step by step manual to complete the labs. I didn't follow them religiously, however. I needed to prove that I understood what he did and not only followed the provided instructions. I hoped that would make a good impression, despite not being the 'correct' thing to do. Improvisation and innovation was what a teacher of a course like this looked for.
As I worked through the first and second lab projects, I realized Mr. Kinneson was giving us the building blocks to create our own robot inventions. Basic construction using pre-made parts, basic program assembly, basic control mechanisms, and everything else to have a basis for the robotics club. He was essentially grooming students to want to create robots for the competitions.
I had to smile at the sneakiness. It was a great way to find those that had a good grasp of the underlying concepts of robotics and who was just doing the course for the credits without any real passion for the subject. I had passion for it in spades, so I didn't have to worry about it anymore.
I glanced over at the club members and saw Mr. Kinneson nodding along slightly as they worked through several design concepts and created computer designs for the new structural parts. That was the best part about classes like this. The creativity it inspired. The class materials took a backseat when that spark happened and Mr. Kinneson had that same passion for his subject that all good teachers had.
I blew through three of the class labs and put the results of each, including my reports for them and the changes I had applied, on his desk. He waved to me before I left the classroom and I exited the school to catch the bus home. Despite the bad start of the day with classes that I didn't really like, the rest of the day had been great.
I went home, did my homework, cooked supper for May and did up the date table to make her smile and blush a little, then I changed for work and rode the bus to the abandoned building. I had a lot of work to do, including a few little experiments I could do afterwards with all of the electronic pieces I had borrowed from school.
Yes, all things considered, it was a great day.
*
Friday was a good day, with biology lab in the morning and gym in the afternoon. The coach just nodded when I went right over to Liz and her friends. Their workout really was a much more advanced version of the one the freshmen had to do, so I excelled at it. I made sure to pace myself to stay near Liz and her friends, though. I didn't want to show off too much.
“Parker! Head's up!” The coach said as someone threw something at me.
I reached out and caught the football without thinking about it and hugged it like you were supposed to, to keep it safe. A few whistles came from the guys and Liz looked hungry again. The ball had been heading right for her and I had snatched it out of the air almost right in front of her face.
“Damn, kid.” Coach Wilson said. “You're not going to try out for the football team?”
“I can't, I'm sorry. I have a part time job and had to quit all of the clubs I was a part of.” I responded.
“Damn.” He said and motioned to the football. “Sink that in the basketball hoop and you can leave early.”
I looked at the odd shape and at the hoop. “From here?”
The coach shrugged and I nodded.
I took a minute to pretend to get a good grip on the thing, aimed, and paused. “Are you sure you want it in the basket and not in the trash can in the far corner?”
“Which is easier?” The coach asked with a smile.
“The trash can.” I said.
“Then put it in the hoop.”
“Yes, sir.” I said and pretended I was in a cartoon and swung my arm in a circle exaggeratedly to make Liz and her friends laugh, and threw the ball. It flew in a perfect spiral as it arced through the air. It hit the edge of the hoop, flipped over and hit the backboard, then it spun in the air twice before it plopped right down through the hoop.
“Damn, damn, damn.” Coach Wilson whispered and waved acceptance.
“Thanks, coach!” I said and gave Liz a pointed look.
“Go ahead. She'll be useless as she looks for you anyway.” The coach said and Liz grinned at me.
We left to some hoots and hollers and quickly found a spot that was out of the way and made out for quite some time. When gym class ended, we split up to shower and changed into our clothes. After one more kiss, we left the school and I rode the bus home.
I quickly did my routine of homework, cooking, and teasing May a little, before I went to work. The guys had made a lot more piles with bigger chunks, because they started tearing into the walls and the work went faster if they didn't break things up very much. They also knew I kicked concrete's ass with a sledgehammer.
I finished clearing up and went down into the basement to my improvised and hidden lab. I called it that and it was just an old table that I used when I brought my things to experiment with. I never left anything, so there was no proof I had done anything there, and went to work experimenting.
It wasn't until I had built the first web release mechanism that I realized I had a slight problem. I didn't have a computer or a laptop to write the program or to hook it up to the pneumatic control module. It was a small setback, mainly because what I was working on was almost a completely mechanical system and the control system was more for monitoring the pressures of the cartridges and not for running the whole thing.
That was quite important, so I had to do something about that. I wasn't sure what, though. I wasn't going to steal to get the money, even if it would be an easy way to buy a laptop. I wouldn't be able to explain suddenly having the cash, either. So, I would have to come up with some kind of workaround or I would need to wait for my first couple of paychecks.
That was when I remembered my clarinet. I had found the receipt for it and the extra parts, the case, and the cleaning kit. Peter had barely used the thing and it looked brand new, so the $1,500 dollars the thing had cost was a ridiculous expense. The $250 for the case was almost laughable and I didn't even bother looking up the resale value on the extra parts.
I definitely need to talk to May about selling it. I thought and I wasn't really looking forward to that conversation. It would be a huge event for her, because it would let her know that something Peter had been so focused on, wasn't even an interest for me. It would also ram home that I wasn't Peter anymore.
I sighed and packed up everything and left the abandoned building the same way I always did late at night. Up through the elevator shaft. I hopped over to the next building and started to crawl down when I heard a scuffle below in the back alley. I quickly crawled down to see several guys using some kind of tools to try and break into the dump truck.
Anger filled me as I saw one of the guys slip and the screwdriver he was using scraped right down through the Bestman Salvage logo on the driver's side door. Adrian had taken out a huge loan to pay for the truck that was essential for his salvage business.
Fucking thieves! I thought and I jumped thirty feet down and slammed my feet into the guy's shoulders. Two distinct snaps were heard and the guy collapsed to the ground and opened his mouth to scream. I kicked him in the temple and knocked him out as his two friends stared at me.
It was dark in the alley and they might not have seen my face. I couldn't really take that chance, though. My fists shot out and crushed their noses. They made gurgling sounds and dropped to the ground, motionless. I cursed in my head at them for being so goddamn stupid and then actually cursed out loud at myself for also being so goddamn stupid. I had jumped into a fight and hadn't covered my face first.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” I whispered as I thought about what to do. I didn't know of any drug dealers in the area, so I couldn't just dump them in the area and hope for the best. I needed to be smart about things and glanced around. No one was around this late at night, so I wasn't going to be spotted if I was careful.
When I looked at the guy that had damaged the truck's door, I recognized him as the smoking guy I had passed in the stairwell at my apartment building. The bastard must have followed me!
That pissed me off, because I was working my ass off to keep a job to earn enough money to let May relax about the bills, and here was this guy trying to wreck everything, probably because he wanted to buy more cigarettes!
I growled as I knelt and searched his pockets. I found a set of keys, some loose change, half a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, his wallet with a hundred and thirty bucks in it, and his driver's license with his address on it. That meant he wasn't doing this for pocket money. There were several explanations for what he was going to do. He was going for a joyride, someone hired him to wreck Adrian's business, or he was going to try and sell the thing.
I was betting on a joyride, because the two guys with him didn't look like hardened criminals. They looked like his friends and were fairly well off. I looked down at the things in my hands and huffed. I took the money and his driver's license from the wallet and his keys before I shoved the rest back into his pockets.
I was glad that I was still wearing my work gloves as I checked the other two potential criminals. They had another $165 dollars between them and I didn't take the change from their pockets. I did take their keys and licenses, just because I could. It was too dark to identify them otherwise and I wanted to know their names after I dumped their bodies somewhere. Perhaps in the river.
That was when what happened finally hit me and I staggered slightly from the shock.
I had killed them.
Three people were dead.
It had been in anger and it hadn't been in cold blood or premeditated, which I would feel relieved about later. That didn't really matter inside my mind right then, because I had become something I never thought would ever happen.
I was a murderer.
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