The Green Goblin was still spitting out smoke from the latest pumpkin bomb that had exploded in his own damn face. His charred, armored fingers clenched the side of his glider as he straightened up, shaking off the fifth consecutive time his own explosives had backfired on him.
Above him, MJ Watson kicked her legs back and forth, still dangling from the metal beam where he had so dramatically tied her up.
She sighed dramatically. "You know, at this point, I almost feel bad for you."
Norman growled, steam practically hissing out of his ears. "You think this is a joke?"
MJ grinned. "I think you're a joke."
Norman was about to murder her when Gwen swung onto the platform below, symbiote suit shimmering with red and black. Wanda, Natasha, and Talia followed, surrounding the battered Green Goblin with smug-ass energy.
Gwen looked up at MJ, mask still on. "You okay?"
MJ arched a brow. "Oh wow, look who finally decided to show up in her fancy goth alien cosplay." She snorted. "Honestly, Gwen, you've had like five costume changes since high school. Did you think I wouldn't figure it out?"
Gwen froze. "…Wait."
MJ rolled her eyes. "Gwen, babe. I love you, but you are the absolute worst at hiding things."
Talia snickered. "To be fair, men don't notice. But women?"
Natasha smirked. "We always know."
MJ nodded. "Literally, only dumb men haven't figured this out yet. But that's what best friends are for—keeping secrets and giving fashion tips."
Wanda grinned. "I like her."
MJ winked at Wanda. "I know."
Gwen mentally imploded while Norman physically exploded.
He lunged.
Gwen dove forward, flipping onto the scaffolding, her symbiote tendrils lashing out. Norman barely dodged before Wanda whipped the Chitauri Scepter across his face. The impact sent him spinning off his glider, crashing into the steel beams below.
Natasha and Talia moved in sync, raining hell down on him with their weapons while Gwen webbed up to MJ and yanked her down, catching her mid-air.
MJ, now in Gwen's arms, said to her: "Damn, Gwen, have you been working out? Your arms feel stronger."
Gwen dropped her after this statement after all woman never want to show too much muscle and Gwen has achieved the legendaey perfect golden ratio.
MJ landed with a perfect bitch-like stance saying to Gwen. "Bitch."
Gwen rolled her eyes. "You're welcome."
MJ smirked. "So, you wanna talk about the alien suit, or are we just ignoring the fact that you look like you just walked out of a Hot Topic?"
Gwen threw up her hands. "Can you just be grateful for one second—"
Norman roared.
He burst out of the wreckage, now fully frenzied, his armor cracked and smoking.
"You think you can beat me?" His voice was ragged, his fury barely contained. "You think I'll let a group of bratty little girls get the best of me?"
MJ smirked. "I mean, considering you've been blown up by your own bombs, like, five times? Yeah, actually. That sounds pretty accurate."
Norman lost it.
He snatched a pumpkin bomb from his belt and hurled it with everything he had.
MJ barely flinched.
Because Wanda caught it in her hand not even needing her scepter this time. Then threw it back at his dumbass.
Boom.
Norman was launched across the platform, his armor shattering further, smoke curling off him as he struggled to stay upright.
MJ, grinning ear to ear: "Oh my God, you are always the butt of explosive jokes. This is honestly tragic for you, dude."
Gwen, not even hiding her amusement anymore, turned to Wanda. "You really didn't have to throw it back at him that hard."
Wanda shrugged. "Oops."
Talia clapped her hands together. "All right, who's ready for the final round of 'Beat Up A Rich Old Man'?"
MJ raised a hand. "Oh, me. Absolutely me."
Gwen sighed but nodded. "Yeah, okay, let's end this."
The final battle with a senile old man began
Norman, half-delirious, still smoking from the latest explosion, jumped back onto his glider, rocketing straight at them.
Wanda met him mid-air, chaos magic wrapping around her symbiote-coated arm, and blasted him out of the sky.
Norman spun violently, hitting the ground hard. He barely had time to react before Natasha landed on him with both feet, slamming him down into the ground, and then she twisted his wrist behind his back.
"Ow—!"
"Shut up," Natasha said, kicking him in the ribs for good measure.
Gwen, leaping up next, webbed his legs together, flipping him over before smashing him into the concrete.
Talia, stepping forward, looked down at him and sighed. "See, Norman, this is what happens when you underestimate the power of Yuri"
Norman groaned, coughing out chunks of cement. "I... hate all of you."
Wanda tilted her head, smiling. "You and every man who loses to us."
MJ, cackling, stepped on his chest. "Damn. Couldn't even last five minutes in a fight against women? Embarrassing."
Norman spat blood onto the ground, struggling against his restraints. "This… isn't… over…"
Gwen crouched beside him, mask retracting, her symbiote mask pulsing faintly over her face. "Yeah, actually? It is."
Wanda raised a hand. Chaos energy swirled in her palm.
Norman gritted his teeth. "You wouldn't dare—"
Wanda blasted him unconscious.
MJ stretched, rolling her shoulders. "That was fun."
Gwen rubbed her temples. "Define fun."
Talia grinned. "Beating up a billionaire. Again."
Natasha smirked. "I liked the part where Wanda just yeeted his own bomb back in his face. That was nice."
MJ nodded. "Oh yeah, iconic. Honestly, five stars. Would watch again."
Wanda, pretending to be modest: "I do my best."
Gwen sighed. "So… uh, now what?"
MJ clapped her hands together. "Drinks. I almost died, I deserve drinks."
Talia nodded. "I second this motion."
Natasha shrugged. "Why not?"
Gwen groaned. "We just had Thanksgiving dinner."
MJ looped an arm around Gwen's shoulders, grinning. "And then I got kidnapped. That cancels out the meal, dumbass. Now shut up and buy me a drink."
Wanda laughed, throwing an arm around Gwen's other shoulder. "You should listen to her."
Talia snickered. "Oh, she does. Just not in public."
Gwen turned bright red. "I hate all of you."
MJ, cheerfully: "You love us."
With Norman unconscious and webbed to the pavement, the girls walked off into the night.
Drinks were absolutely happening.
But not before the epic climax—somehow, as if by some kind of comic book magic, Norman Osborn, the Green Goblin, stirred. His body ached, his mind reeled, yet he still managed to push himself back to his feet. With a smug, defiant grin, he stared at the backs of the women who had so thoroughly humiliated him.
He refused to accept defeat.
"This fight isn't over yet," he thought naively, oblivious to just how wrong he was.
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