Alright, people, let’s do this one last time. My name is Peter B. Parker. I was bitten by a radioactive spider. And for the last twenty-two years, I thought I was the one and only Spider-Man. I’m pretty sure you know the rest. You see I saved the city, fell in love, I got married, saved the city some more, maybe too much, my marriage got testy, made some dicey money choices -- don’t invest in a Spider-themed restaurant. Then like fifteen years passed, blah, blah, blah, super boring, I broke my back, a drone flew into my face, I buried Aunt May, my wife and I split up. But I handled it like a champion. ‘Cause you know what? No matter how many times I get hit, I always get back up.