The stickiest hands on Tatooine

St. Louis, it should be noted, has a disproportionate number of women who like to skate and punch. It makes sense that they so readily support all-girl roller derby.

One particular match had a Star Wars theme ("Scar Wars", specifically) and, being shortly before Halloween, brought out costumed players and spectators alike. A sight, a stormtrooper with a PBR.

During intermission, a psychobilly emcee invited all interested spectators onto the rink to participate in the Star Wars costume contest. On they shuffled, like the exodus of last call at Mos Eisley Cantina: all ages and sizes of Jedi, the periodic plastic Vader, a handful of geekporn Leia -- and one diminutive, confused-looking Spider Man. At once, everybody's buddy mumbled the same crack (variations on "I totally freaked when I found out that Vader was Spider Man's father"), but the pajamic webslinger was so adorably out of place that no one had the heart to be mean spirited.

The emcee organized the contestants from tallest to shortest (Wookies to Jawas), and began eliciting audience applause to determine the intergalactic winner of cash, candy, and trinkets. Most participants were rewarded only with respectful applause -- Leia's torso drew a few hoots -- and the roller derby crowd was decidedly subdued for being so decidedly sauced.

Still, as the emcee scuttled down the line toward the young and squirming, a chant seeped from the bleachers.

"Spi-der Man ... Spi-der Man ..."

Others heard it and quickly added to the cacophony.

"Spi-der Man ... Spi-der Man ..."

The noise triggered the tiny arachnid's Spidey Sense, and soon he was spinning around, trying to echolocate his supporters (his eyes had been rendered useless the moment they became misaligned with the holes in his mask).

"Spi-der Man ... Spi-der Man ..." Louder and louder, as the emcee shirked droids and Ewoks.

As muttonchops held his hand over the penultimate contestant, the crowd seemed to find perfect synchronization. Their cheery chant -- in fact, all noise -- seemed to break cleanly as they drew a unified breath.

The emcee filled the gap: " ... and how do you guys feel about ..."

"SPIDER MAAAAAAAN!" they ALL erupted, of single mind and voice, scaring the living daylights out of that kid.

Das Delorean

Greg's 82 Volkswagen, "Spence"
Was a time machine (well, in a sense)
By the time eighty-eight
Was his traveling rate
'Twas seventy five minutes hence