***

  The Superkid duplicate struggled through the crowd gathered outside the theater--premiering the epic battle between kid and monster. Behind him he towed a bed-sheet that had been gathered together to form a sack and tied with string to close the opening. Because you're wondering what's it's for, I'll tell you... to wait until he uses it to find out. A hint? Well... let's just say it's a clever substitute for the thing he was missing.

  He managed to force his way to the doors, which were demolished now thanks to the giant spider. He paused and peered inside to assess the situation.

  An enormous, jagged hole led down to the basement. The enormous arachnid was crawling out of the hole like some mad scientist's experiment gone wrong. The clone held perfectly still, hoping the giant spider wouldn't spot him in the crowd.

  The spider paid absolutely no attention to him. Its attention was focused solely on the kid hovering above as it crawled up the wall.

  That imposter is distracting it, the clone thought, turning his attention to other spots of the old theater, which gives me the element of surprise.

  Meanwhile, the spider reached the ceiling. With each step it took, it probed the ceiling and tugged on it to make sure it was firm before taking another step. After its last mishap with the flimsy ceiling, it wasn't going to take chances.

  This tender-footed approach did have its disadvantages though. As the spider crawled slowly along the ceiling, its archenemy was able to easily keep his distance. But the spider wasn't too concerned about this though. It didn't need to be concerned just yet.

  At last it reached the corner. There it spun webbing from its spinnerets and attached it to the corner. Then, just as carefully as it had crawled to this corner, it made its way toward the other corner, with the webbing trailing behind it. Superkid, no longer bothering to keep a safe distance, watched it and wondered, What in the world is it doing?

  The answer didn't get any clearer even after the eight-legged goliath had attached lines to all four corners of the theater and tied them together in the center of the theater. And still the answer remained obscure as the giant spider lowered itself from the center of the ceiling until it hung halfway between the ceiling and floor. And still that sneaky answer kept its distance as the enormous arachnid began swinging away from Superkid--who was too high for the villainous critter to reach anyways--until it managed to catch the wall. And finally that wicked little answer stuck its tongue out at our hero as the spider twisted itself until it was sideways on the wall, facing Superkid.

  Superkid called to the spider, "All right, I give up. What's your evil plan?"

  The spider didn't answer. But when it suddenly scuttled across the wall and then launched itself to swing in a wide circle toward Superkid, yelling like a jungle man, that's when that beastly little answer finally slapped our hero full on in the face... which was nothing to how it felt being slapped by an enormous spider pretending to be the lord of the apes. He went spinning like a ballerina through the air though his balloon quickly slowed him down. The giant spider, meanwhile, caught itself on the opposite wall and reversed direction to face our hero again.

  It whooped. "Whoo! That was fun, eh Superkid? Wanna go again?" As it spoke, it backed up to draw the line taut.

  Superkid was disoriented after being whammed and swung around the room. He shook his head to clear it but he wasn't in time to stop the yelling jungle-man arachnid from slamming into him a second time. When he spun away, he was once again very disoriented.

  "This is fun!" crowed the giant spider. "Aren't you having fun?"

  Superkid wasn't in much of a condition to answer--not that his opinion would have mattered. He hadn't even begun to shake his head when the yelling spider slammed into him again... and again... and again.

  "Whee! Woo! Whee!" that diabolical crawler cheered as it swung back and forth, tossing the unfortunate fearless kid about. "This is fun! We should do this more often!"

  Superkid tried his best to regain control of the situation--snatching at the hose flopping around on his shoulder--but that evil monster kept throwing him off--both literally and figuratively speaking. Once again, our hero was in a pickle.

  Was there no help for our hero? Was there any hope of escape? Was he doomed to swing back and forth with a deranged mutant arachnid forever (or until the spider got bored and ate him)? Have I forgotten any important questions a good narrator of a superhero story asks in their hero's hour of dire peril?

  Well actually, yes, yes, no and maybe. You remember the clone, right? Right, of course you do. Well, just as soon as the massive menace became busy batting the super kid in a bizarre game of tennis, the carbon copy of our hero crept to the corner of the theater and then pulled out the bed-sheet that he was holding as a sack. He puffed into the mouth of the sack. Amazingly, this actually worked! The bed-sheet ballooned and then rose, lifting the Superkid duplicate into the air. He cheered to himself, "It works!"

  Then his ascent began to slow down. The sheet was too permeable and the air inside was leaking out. But that wasn't too big a problem. The clone simply puffed more air to give himself more lift. And when his ascent began to slow again, he puffed more air into his bed-sheet balloon. He slowed again and so he puffed in more air. He slowed and then puffed. He slowed and puffed. Slowed and puffed.

  Then his head hit the ceiling. It was so unexpected--and painful--that he let go of his makeshift balloon!

  It was a long way down--a gut-wrenching drop. He was looking at fifty feet from ceiling to where the spider had punched a hole into the basement floor... of course, looking at and falling at are two separate things. Somehow he had managed to grab the web while his makeshift balloon went back to being a languid bed-sheet that rippled to the floor.

  That was close, thought the clone--a matter-of-fact statement since he couldn't feel fear. Now he began to cross the rope hand over hand toward the center.

  The clone had a plan. The plan was to cut the spider's line, which would drop it to the fearless clone's level so he could show it who's boss. After that, he would deal with the imposter.

  But he had no tools to cut the rope with--no saw, no knife, scissors or anything else sharp. But our hero's duplicate was resourceful and he knew how he was going to cut it. It was rather ingenious... an illuminating example of just how resourceful and smart our hero--and consequently his clone--was. Once he reached the center where the spider was swinging directly below him, he would begin to demonstrate that resourcefulness and smartness.

  Now that I'm done being annoyingly vague, the clone leaned toward the line that held the spider up. He puffed out his chest and his cheeks as he sucked in as much air as he could. Then he blasted out all the air in his lungs onto the web, working it as hot as he could possibly make it.

  He thought at first that it wasn't working. His arms were shaking from the effort of holding onto the web above and he was making himself dizzy with all the puffing. But after a few more blasts of hotter-than-normal air, he saw the web strands starting to unravel.

  Encouraged, he puffed more hot air onto the line. Then, taking a break from puffing, he checked the situation below him.

  The giant spider was whooping with glee as it tossed about Superkid--whom the clone thought was his clone even though he was the clone cloned from the supposed clone that was Superkid. It shouted, "I've never had so much fun! And I think I'm winning too! Who's keeping score, do you know?"

  I am, thought the clone, and you're scoring for the wrong team. He went back to blasting the line with hot air.

  Faster and faster the web strands began to unravel. Back and forth the eight-legged monster swung. Louder and louder its whooping got. More and more our hero got whupped.

  Faster and faster they unraveled. Back and forth it swung. Louder and louder it got. More and more he was.

  Faster and faster. Back and forth. Louder and louder. More and more.

  FASTER AND FASTER! BACK AND FORTH! LOUDER AND LOUDER! MORE AND MORE!

  And then finall
y it happened! The Superkid duplicate had melted the web down to the size of yarn. The enormous arachnid had tossed the real Superkid toward the theater entrance and swung toward the stage. At the apex of its swing, the web snapped and it sailed backwards towards the stage, which just so happened to be set up as a dungeon full of maces, spears, swords, arrows and all sorts of sharp objects.

  The diabolical critter flailed its eight legs as the stage came closer and closer--writing in slo-mo here. Gleams slid across the weapons as the evil arachnid's massive hindquarters approached. A garbled, "Nooooooooooooo!" fled from the gargantuan monster's mouth as though abandoning a ship sinking in slow motion.

  Closer and closer the spider got to the stage. Shinier and shinier the weapons got. Louder and louder the spider's "Noooo" became.

  Closer and closer. Shinier and shinier. Louder and loud...

  All right! All right! I'll cut it out! I'm just trying to play out the drama here. It's not as easy as it looks, you know.

  The spider landed with a dramatic crash. All those shiny weapons? They turned out to be cheap wood glossed over with gray paint. Still, they hurt quite a bit. To add insult to injury, the spider was now stuck in the stage, having crashed partway through it.

  It flailed its legs and grunted as it attempted to heave itself out of the hole. It growled grumpily, "Not again!"

  It took a while for our battered and bruised hero to realize that he wasn't being "tarzan'ed" anymore. But it wasn't long at all after his head stopped spinning that he discovered the giant spider in its sticky situation, which made him smile. He pulled the cord, which dropped him to the floor. Then he coolly made his way to the evil critter, taking his time.

  "Well, well, well," said Superkid as he approached. "Looks like your little game didn't end quite the way you planned."

  "Oh, it's not over yet," grumbled the spider as it struggled in the hole. "This is just a time-out while I rethink my strategy."

  "Strategy?" Superkid snorted. "You're stuck in the floor. How do you plan to get out of this one?"

  The fearless kid was surprised when the eight-legged villain chuckled and then answered. "As they say in theater... exit, stage down." And with that, it threw itself backwards, breaking the rest of the stage and vanishing through the floor.

  Superkid stared at the spot where the evil arachnid had vanished... A few second later, the spider reemerged, wincing in pain.

  "Who was the idiot that left that can of nails there?" it grunted as it hauled itself out. It crawled to the background and swung its massive behind to smash through. It charged through the backstage, knocking around boxes of costumes and props as it scuttled. When it reached the wall, it used its behind again to smash the wall down, which led to the outside.

  Before it scuttled away, it turned back to Superkid and growled, "I'll be back, you little worm. And when I do, I'll be the one who wins!"

  Superkid snorted. "Dream on, Ugly."

  The giant spider waved a fist-like leg in the air then turned and scuttled back to its lair.

  So ends the heroic battle between the eight-legged monster and the somewhat stature-impaired...

  Not heroic? Yes, I suppose it's true that Superkid was getting his rear end kicked... and I suppose the evidence does point to the clone's heroic actions that saved...

  Wait a minute! What do you mean "heroic"? This guy is a clone for crying out loud! An evil manifestation of our hero created by the wicked Dr. Red! He can't be a hero! That would totally ruin the plot!

  For you see, though the monstrous spider had been defeated, the troubles had only just begun...