Green Goblin #13 “Born Again” by Stephen Warren

Philip Urich sat in his small dingy apartment staring at his broken face-mask. Its green color and horrid facial features which resembled those of a gargoyle had earned him the name Green Goblin. The mask now rested on his table, the left half of the face having been all-but destroyed.

Phil had stumbled upon the Osborn legacy of lunacy and genius which fueled the Green Goblin tradition. He had stumbled upon this secret and in trying to escape had become covered in a mixture of unknown chemicals. When he put the mask on, Phil’s strength and reflexs were increased tremedously. Along with the suit and mask, Phil discovered numerous Goblin “toys.” Razor bats, pumpkin bombs, and the Goblin Glider. Now able to soar among the sky, Phil had finally become something. He dreamt of becoming a super-hero and fighting for good and having some serious fun while doing it. Now his dreams had been wrecked, just as his mask had been.

Even though he exercised Phil still had the health of a college student couch potato, even if he was in decent shape. His green eyes had an enchanting beauty to them, as did his long brown hair which he parted down the middle and allowed the front to fall in his face.

During the Onslaught crisis, Phil in the guise of the Green Goblin, battled a Sentinel. Although Phil won the battle shrapnel from his beaten opponent had damaged his mask.

“What can I do?” Phil thought to himself. “I know I didn’t make too much of an actual difference but it sure was a blast, and I did do some good. Maybe not enough to attone for the Green Goblin legacy, though.” Phil stared at his mask for a few more minutes. Fatigue and boredom began setting in, and Phil rubbed his eyes to keep awake and alert. As Phil opened his eyes, he thought he noticed a difference about the mask.

“Yes! It can fix itself!” Phil shouted and began doing a little dance. Sitting back down and resuming his vigil, he noticed that the mask failed to move again. After a few minutes of constant staring, Phil added, “Well, maybe not.”

Phil thought long and hard and tried to find a way to have it rebuilt. Then, out of nowhere the idea hit him. Fast Freddie Glazer, a trusted friend and electronics whiz. “But,” Phil thought to himself, “can he be trusted with my secret?” Taking a deep breath and waying all of his options carefully, Phil decided that he would have to risk it.

The trip over to Fast Freddie’s apartment, which was up a few floors, did not take long at all. Soon, Phil found himself standing outside his door, a brown paper bag with the mask inside it in his left hand. Gathering all of his courage, Phil knocked on the door.

Fast Freddie was standing in a white T-shirt and boxers when he opened the door. His goatee looked slightly uneven, Phil thought that he musn’t have groomed it in a few days. Indeed, his hair was done back in its usually ponytail. But the rest of his hair, which he usually kept very short was now appearing to be growing out.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want it,” Fast Freddy stated. He forced his eyes more open and noticed that it was his friend, Phil. “Phil? Man, it must be two or three in the morning. What are you doing here?”

“First of all, it’s seven o’clock at night and I’m here to talk some business with you.” Fast Freddie’s eyes opened wide at the mention of business.

“Come on inside.” With that, Phil entered Freddie’s apartment and Freddie shut the door behind him.

“What is it you need my expertise on?” Freddie asked.

“This.” Phil pulled the broken Goblin mask out of the brown paper bag and held it up so that Freddie could get a good look at it. Freddie snatched it from Phil’s hands and began to inspect it more closely.

“Man, this thing is elaborate. Whoever made it knew what they were doing. So, the question is, why do you have it?” Freddie suspiciously eyed Phil. Phil stuttered for a good explanation and decided to just be honest.

“I am... I was the new Green Goblin.” Phil finally admitted.

“Sweet. So is this mask where you get all your cool super-powers and stuff?”

“Yeah, but it will only work for me. I got doused with some chemicals which enable me to be pumped up by the mask. Can you fix it?”

“I don’t know, this is some pretty heavy-duty stuff here. I’m talking serious overhaul. I ain’t never done nothing involving super-heroes before.”

“Well, now is a great time to start. I know you can do it,Freddie. I have faith in you.”

“Really?” Freddie asked.

“Really. If you can’t do it, no one can.” Freddie seemed to grow happier and much more confident as Phil spoke. Giving it another glance, Freddie thought about what to do.

“I’ll see what I can do. Come back in a little while.” With that Freddie sat down and started looking at the mask using a large mounted magnifying glass.

Once out of Freddie’s apartment, Phil thought to himself, “I wish I meant a word of what I had just said.” He remembered almost every other time that Freddie had tried to electronically help him out. Like when he tried to give him free cable and ended up blowing up Phil’s television.

Phil left the room and started the trek back to his apartment. “Well,” Phil thought to himself, “I guess its time I start heading over to my intern job the Daily Bugle.”


----

Philip Urich walked into the Daily Bugle just as twelve people were walking out. They were his friends and his co-workers, and they never looked more miserable in the entire time he had known them.

“What’s up? Why all the long faces?” Phil asked.

“You mean you haven’t heard?” One of the older men responded.

“The Bugle is starting cutbacks, kid.” A brawny twenty year old guy, that Phil recognized as Flex, responded. “And more people are getting the boot today then in the entire time I been here. They kicked me out, they kicked out Conover and Gratham, heck, they’re even kicking out most a’ the interns.”

“Interns?” Phil asked breathlessly.

“Yep.”

“Excuse me.” And with that Phil ran through the lobby and into the elevators.

While the elevator dinged away at each passing floor, Phil felt as if his mind was going to explode. “It doesn’t much matter if I get fired,” Phil thought to himself. “I’ve got enough money left from my run-in with Arcade for me to live comfortably for quite some time, but what about my Uncle Ben? True, he’s the top reporter for the Bugle, but Conover’s Corner has been a a huge part of the Bugle for forever. And what about my friends?”

Phil arrived at the news room a few moments later. He sprinted through the labrynth-like assembly of desks. He came across Joe Robertson, a kindly fifty-year old black man who was the Bugle’s editor in chief.

“Mr. Robertson!” Phil shouted across the noisy room. Joe turned and faced his young caller. Phil quickly scurried over to him.

“Sir, I have a question to ask.”

“Yes?” Joe responded. His voice seemed slower and darker than usual. Phil could tell that he did not enjoy letting people go.

Looking at Joe Robertson, Phil decided that the direct approach would work best “Sir, were Meredith Campbell or Lynn Walsh fired?” Phil asked point blank. Joe Robertson took a deep breath a exhaled it slowly. He slowly began nodding.

“Yes,” he finally said. He paused as if looking for something else to say. “Yes, they were. I am sorry, Phil.” Phil felt sad for his friends, especially Lynn who wanted nothing more than to be a Bugle reporter.

“How about my Uncle? Has he been axed, too?” Phil demaned angrily. “Are you gonna start kicking ever one out? How about Jones or Parker, are they gonna get the boot as well?” Robertson stood in front of Phil for a moment. Suddenly, Phil realized how big of an ass he was being and took a breath and started to calm down. As soon as he was calm enough, Joe began to speak again.

“No, your Uncle has not been fired and no, we are not ‘kicking ever one out.’ It’s just that the staff is too big and with all the recent destruction from Onslaught and the like, we’re having to let people go.”

“I’m... I’m sorry about my outburst. I just...” Phil paused. He found that his mouth was dry and he had no idea of what to say next. “I just don’t know what to say. I guess I’ll go say good-bye to Lynn and Merry.”

“That’s not all,” Mr. Robertson started up again before Phil started running off. “I am afraid, that I also have to let you go as well.” Phil was shocked. Only moments ago he thought that his place was secure, even if he led himself to believe that he would have been okay with it. Now that the truth stared him in the face, he found himself in quite a different place.

Phil’s mind raced as he tried to find something that could prove his worth to the paper. Something which could say that he had earned his place, and that he wasn’t there just because his uncle was a prize winning writer for the Bugle. Unfortuantly, not one thing came to Phil’s mind.

Joe walked off to finish his long list of duties to be performed. Phil finally managed to convince himself to move. He walked over to Lynn’s desk and found her crying and Merideth, or Merry, trying to comfort her.

“I don’t deserve to be fired,” Lynn managed to get out. “I was going to be a top reporter. Now, look at me. I’ve been fired from the Bugle!”

“It’s alright, Lynn. Don’t worry,” Merry said in a calm and soothing voice. “Maybe the three of us should have a drink together.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”


----

Phil, Merry, and Lynn arrived at Anthony’s a little after one. They had stopped by a few of their fellow ex-intern friends’ houses and inquired if they wanted to go, but none of them seemed up to the task. Self-loathing and bitterness seemed to be filling all of their time now. The trip, which had been started with the hope of cheering them up, had done nothing so far except depress them further.

Anthony’s was a small bar with pool tables in the back. It was a place where new reporters went to quench their thirst and where old reporters went to drink their problems away.

Derrick Gratham, another fired intern, was sitting in a booth in the back. The trio noticed him and started to slowly go over to him. True, under the best circumstances he was a jerk and a pain in the butt under the worst, but he was also a colleague in pain.

Phil sat down first, across the table from him. Lynn sat down to his left and Merry remained standing. Derrick appeared to be in great physical shape, with a strapping young body, blond hair and brown eyes. His eyes looked red from a mix of tears and booze. He was staring down at his drink, which appeared to be vodka of some kind.

“How are you doing?” Phil finally asked. Derrick looked up suddenly, as if he only know recognized that someone was sitting across from him.

“How am I doing?” Derrick finally replied. His voice had a slight slur to it, which pointed out how much alchol he had been consuming. “I lost my job, man. I can’t believe it. I mean, it’s my job. Everybody needs their job.”

Phil looked sadly at Derrick. He saw Derrick as truly was at that moment, frightened and alone. He felt for that one moment as if he had to help Derrick.

“Look, I know what you’re going through. I mean, the three of us lost our jobs, too. Heck, so did a lot of people. But, we can’t let that get us down.”

“You know what I’m going through?” Derrick asked.

“Yeah, I’m in the same boat as you.” Phil responded.

“You ain’t nothin’ like me!” Derrick knocked his drink over with the back of his hand and stood up. “You ain’t nothing like me!” Derrick screamed into Phil’s face. He then turned and tried to get out of the booth. He tripped as he attemped to step over Lynn and landed square on his face. Phil leapt to his feet and grabbed his arm, helping him up.

Derrick pushed Phil away from him. “Let go a’ me!” Derrick screamed. “I don’t need a loser’s help. And face it, Urich, that’s what you are. A freakin’ loser! I am gonna be somebody! You bet. I’m a straight A student, I’ll make something outta myself. You? You’ll always be a loser.” Feeling a sudden wave of nausea overcome him, Derrick ran out of Anthony’s, knocking people out of his way.

“Well,” Merry finally started after a long silence, “glad to see Derrick’s taking it okay.” Merry sat down in the booth next to Phil as a waitress quietly came over to them. She was a mousey woman, with brown hair, tied back in a ponytail. Her name tag read Marie. She held a small fist-sized pad in her left hand.

“What do you guys want?” She asked.

“I’m fine,” Phil answered.

“I’d like a vodka sour, please,” Lynn responded.

“Just a coke,” Merry responsed. The waitress jotted the information down and began to turn around.

“Actually, miss, I think I’d like a coke too,” Phil chimed in. Marie nodded her head and added Phil’s order before walking off. There was a heavy silence as the three friends sat there staring at each other. Marie returned shortly with the drinks which she placed in front of them.

“So,” Merry started, “what are you guys gonna do now? I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going back to being a full-time student, and am looking forward to it.”

“I don’t know,” Phil answered. “I got something I have to see about first, but I think I’ll probably go back to full time school as well.”

“Not me,” Lynn replied. “I’m got an idea that might land me a job at the Globe or Times.”

“Oh,” Phil uttered, “and what pray tell is this plan of yours?”

“Well, I need you to get all of your uncle’s notes on this new Green Goblin. Merry, I need you to snap a couple of pictures of him. And I am going to interview him.” Merry and Phil sat back, more than a little shocked at the blantent idocy of the plan. It was Merry who spoke up first.

“And how are you going to get him to grant this interview?”

“Well, when we met there was a bit of chemistry. I just know he’d do it for me.” Lynn said, batting her eyes in an alurring way. Frankly, it made Merry want to vomit.

But not Phil. Phil who has had a crush on Lynn since he first laid eyes on her. Of course he’d give her an interview.

The waitress returned with a small piece of paper, which had been folded over so as not to allow anyone to read it.

“You Lynn Walsh?” Stunned by the question, it took Lynn a few moments before she realized that the waitress was talking to her.

“Yes, I am.” The waitress put the piece of paper on the table and slid it over to Lynn who took it and read it while the waitress walked off. Lynn’s eyes opened wide. “Speaking of which,” she stared, “I’ve got to run. A friend of mine just spotted the Goblin downtown.” And with that Lynn jumped up and ran out the door. Merry looked over at Phil.

“I’ve got to go, too.” Phil said. Merry didn’t move. “Ah, you’ve got to get out before I can leave.”

“Are you sure you’re not just leaving because Lynn is?”

“Yes. I just remembered that I left my laundry in the washer and if I don’t get to it quickly it will grow mildewy. Very nasty stuff.” Merry scoted out and Phil jumped out. He quickly hugged Merry good-bye. “Give me a call, we’ll hook up later.”

Immeaditly after saying that, he rushed out the door.

Marie walked over to Merry. “Here’s your check, miss.”

“My check?” Merry asked. She looked down. Two cokes and a vodka sour. While she got her money out she growled a death threat under her breath.


----

Fast Freddie opened the door about two minutes after Phil began slamming on it.

“Dude, it’s you. I was afraid it was the cops or something. I had to hide the mask. C’mon in.” Freddie opened the door and Phil ran in.

“Is it ready?”

“Heck ya, man. Did you ever doubt?” Freddie asked, giving Phil a gigantic cheesy grin.

“Not for a second.” Deep inside, Phil gave a sigh of relief. He hugged his friend. “Where is it?”

Freddie pointed to his work table. Sitting there was the Green Goblin mask, an evil grin lashed across its face. Phil ran over and snatched the mask.

“What’s going on?” Freddie asked in a small confused voice.

“There’s someone flying around downtown who people are calling the Green Goblin. I’ve got to go check out what they’re talking about.”

“Dude, are you ever misinformed. It ain’t the Green Goblin that’s flying around downtown. It’s the Hobgoblin.”

The name froze Phil in his tracks. The last time that Phil faced off against the Hobgoblin, he had almost died. That, and the Hobgoblin swore revenge against him. Two things that made Phil hesitate to put the mask on. Then, in his mind’s eye, he saw Lynn being hurt by the Hobgoblin. Without further delay, he slipped the mask on.

The familiar sensation ripped through him as his muscles and reflexes became enhanced. Fast Freddie’s mouth dropped open as he looked on in horror as his friend grew in bulk.

Phil stood up to his full height. He looked around the room, getting used to the old feeling of having the mask on. “Time to go beat on a Goblin.” Then Phil started laughing manically, and found that he couldn’t stop.