Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. All characters except for Miriam and her family are property Marvel Comics. Miriam is MINE. Marvel's welcome to her. :) You're welcome to write Miriam (schyeah, like you'd wanna!), under one condition: DO NOT USE HER FOR EROTICA. I will garrote you with your own colon if you do so. Have a nice day! (Oh, and if you do write Miriam, it'd be great if you'd send it to me...) Archive away! Go ahead! I won't mind! This is kinda sillyfic, kinda not...

{You know, sometimes you can care too much. Like me...all I can think about, all I can hear and see and smell all day long is other people's emotions. It drives me NUTS! It also makes me want to help. There's so much PAIN...more than any other emotion, there's sadness, depression, loneliness. I guess I want to fix it, but I don't know how. Maybe I can find Spider-Man...after all, what's the use of living in New York if you can't talk to a superhero once in a while? I guess the best way to find him would be to go to the nearest sporting goods store, get some bike shorts and a Speedo, stand on a roof, and laugh manically...I think I'll try that!}
Miriam got up and walked to the Sportmart. She found a pair of orange bike shorts and a green Speedo, ducked around the conrner, and put them on. Then, she climbed to the highest roof she could get on to( the nearby deli), stood up, and LAUGHED as manically as possible. "MUAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!" {Oh, great! I wanted to find Spider-Man, not HOWARD THE DUCK!!!!}

"Hey, toots, what'cha doin' up there? Callin' hogs?"

"Oh, go away. I'm looking for Spider-Man!" {I can sense anger and irritation coming off him like sweat off Arnold Schwarztenegger.}

"Hey, toots, come down offa that deli, ya hear? I wanna get a sandwich, an' the cops won't let me, so c'mon down! After the sandwich, I'll help ya!"

"No! Not after a sandwich! NOW!"

"Fine, fine. ::to himself:: Pushy chicks."

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