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The first time Peter woke up it was because he could have sworn that he heard his living room window open but that was impossible! He lived on the 12th floor. There was no way anyone could get in through his window so he chalked it up to a weird dream or a really stupid bird.
The second time Peter woke up it was to the sound of loud, off-key singing. It took him about thirty seconds to assure himself that, yes; he did live alone. Peter slowly pulled himself out of bed and tip toed towards the baseball bat he had leaning next to the bedroom door. At that moment he really wished he hadn’t left his phone in the living room so he could call the police or something.
Peter took a deep breath, steeling himself, then he threw open the door, “I have a bat and I’m not afraid to—is that a goat??”
Peter froze with the bat raised above his head; he was face to face with a goat in a colorful poncho. It baaed at him.
“Who are you?” This must have been the guy singing. He was tall, bald, muscular, and would have totally been Peter’s type even with all the painful looking scars if he hadn’t broken into Peter’s house.
“Who am I? Who are you! This is my apartment! Why are you in it? Why is there a goat in it? And why is it wearing a poncho? How did you even get in here?” Peter was starting to feel a bit faint from all the shouting but in his defense there was a weird dude in his house with a goat. It was a very stressful beginning to one’s day.
“You’re not Weasel… Whoops…” The goat guy had the decency to look a bit awkward.
“Who’s Weasel? Wait, never mind. I don’t care, I’m calling the police.” Peter shuffled towards his phone while keeping eye contact with goat guy—he had very lovely blue eyes.
“No!” Goat guy shouted making Peter jump, “sorry, just wait a second. I think this is an honest mistake. See, I was trying to prank my buddy Weasel and I think I got the wrong apartment or something.”
“Weasel?” Peter said doubtfully but he had stopped shuffling.
“Yeah, he’s this nerdy looking dude. But not like the cute nerdy like you but the goofy kind. He’s like yay high,” Goat guy raised his hand to his shoulder. “He’s got glasses and dark hair.”
“Oh, you mean Jack Hammer? He’s my next door neighbor.” Peter heard the guy mumble ‘oh that explains it’.
Peter watched as the goat meander over and started eating one of his college textbooks. Peter rushed over and tried to yank the book out of the goat’s mouth. “Hey, I need that for school. Goat guy! Help me get your goat off of my book.”
Together they managed to wrestle the textbook out of the goat’s mouth. The corner of the book was chewed off and it was covered in goat saliva.
“Ew,” Peter mumbled as he wiped the book off on his pajama bottoms.
“Hey, baby boy, I’m really sorry about this.” Goat guy rubbed a hand on the back of his head and gave Peter a sheepish smile.
Peter’s cheeks heated at the nickname, “It’s alright I guess.”
“Sooooooo, I guess Mr. Benjamin Franklin and I will get out of your very soft looking hair.” Goat guy started pulling the goat towards the front door.
“Hey wait,” Peter said.
“Yeah…?”
“How did you manage to get that goat into my apartment? I’m on the 12th floor.”
“I scaled the building with him tied to me.” Goat guy said with all seriousness. Mr. Benjamin Franklin started chewing on goat guy’s jeans.
“Bullshit,” Peter shook his head, that wasn’t possible.
“Nu huh, it’s totally true. Isn’t that right, Mr. Benjamin Franklin?” The goat replied by continuing to eat goat guy’s pants.
“So you scaled a twelve story building with a goat wearing a poncho tied to you just to prank your friend? You’re insane!” Peter couldn’t believe this guy.
“Well, the poncho didn’t make that much of a difference when it came to scaling the building. I just thought it looked nice, very stylish.” Goat guy shrugged.
“I, wait—what??” Peter spluttered, “Where did you even get the goat?”
“I stole him.” Seeing the look of horror on Peter’s face goat guy quickly added, “But don’t freak out! I stole him from my friend Bob.”
“So let me get this straight,” Peter gestured at him with the bat he was still holding. He wasn’t taking any chances with weird goat guys. “You stole a goat from one friend (which I’m pretty sure is a crime punishable by death in some countries) to prank with another friend?”
Goat guy nodded, “that pretty much sums it up, yeah.”
Peter dropped the baseball bat and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, “It’s been a really weird day.”
Goat guy laughed, “You’re telling me—Ouch! Hey! Stop trying to eat me you stupid goat!”
Peter looked up and couldn’t help but laugh when he saw goat guy trying to shove the goat away from his crotch as it tried to eat the jeans in that area.
“Hey!” goat guy cried in indignation, “Quit laughing at my suffering, attractive college student!”
“Sorry,” Peter giggled helplessly, “And my name is Peter. Peter Parker.”
“I’m—Ouch! Stop it you perverted goat or else I’m going to turn you into a goat burger! I’m Wade Wilson.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you Wade but maybe you should get that goat out of my apartment before it tries to eat me.” Peter really didn’t mind Wade. He seemed like a cool, kind of really hot guy but the goat was starting to freak him out a bit. He didn’t really want it chomping at his crotch next.
“Alrighty well, I guess I’ll see you around… on second thought you probably don’t ever want to see me again after this. So I’ll head out. Bye…” Wade grabbed the goat by the poncho and dragged him out through the front door.
Peter stood in his living room for a second before he rushed to the door—fuck it, he thought.
“Hey Wade,” Wade paused halfway down the hallway and turned towards Peter with a hopeful expression, “I would like to see you again. You can drop by the front door this time but please don’t bring the goat.”
Wade gave him a blinding smile, “Sure thing baby boy! I hope you like pancakes ‘cause I make some mean ones!”
Peter laughed, “It’s a date then!”
Wade winked at him before hammering on Peter’s neighbor’s door, “Open up Weasel! It’s Wade!”
Peter chuckled and shut his door.
What a weirdly, wonderful start to his day.