"Public Relations"
by Tom Bolenbaugh & Aaron Einhorn 

    A battered dummy in a garish costume stands in the corner.  The television droned on with the evening news filled with the pointless stories of pointless lives.  The only other sound was the occasional thunk of a bat-shaped throwing knife as it struck the dummy, a tattered facsimile of the Hobgoblin.

    The dummy's assailant barely stirred from his chair, his constant attacks a mindless diversion while he mused over the newspaper stories spread out on the table in front of him.  Headlines spelled out the tale, "Green Goblin, Hero?", "Goblin War Ended!", "Hobgoblin Slain!" and his favorite, from the Daily Bugle, "Goblin Freaks Terrorize City".

    They had no idea.

    The Green Goblin leaned back and laughed.  A snap of his arm sent another razor bat flying, this one neatly slicing the head clean off the dummy Hobgoblin.  "Dead!" he exclaimed, with a mirthless laugh.  "The pretender's reign cut off by my own dear little boy.  My own misguided hero is finally showing his true colors."  The accounts told how the Hobgoblin's glider had been badly damaged during their battle, how the new Green Goblin had been seen trying to rescue his foe from the deadly fall, but to no avail.  The true Green Goblin laughed harder than ever.

    "Oh no, little gobling, I know better.  I've seen you in action, I've felt your fury and your tenacity first hand.  It wasn't rescue you had in mind, was it, little gobling?"  Suddenly his fists swung up from beneath the table, striking it with such force that it flew across the room, over top of the television and striking the wall many feet behind it.  The Goblin was on his feet, arms raised triumphantly.  "My boy, my boy.  Finally, you've done something to make your father proud!"

    The television droned on, "And now we go to live coverage from Oscorp Headquarters, where Harry Osborn has called a press conference."


    "Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I would like to thank you all for gathering here today. As CEO of Oscorp, there are a number of  announcements I would like to make regarding the future of this corporation, and the details of my father, Norman Osborn. As some may  know, a few years ago, my father was institutionalized for mental  illness. What was not made known to public at this time, was that  Norman Osborn was, in fact, the super-criminal, the Green Goblin. Nor was his family, or any member of the Oscorp board of operations, aware of this fact. Almost one year ago, I came across my father's notes, regarding his dual identity as the Green Goblin. Feeling responsible for my father's actions, I took it upon myself to hire a former US Army soldier, and using my personal fortune, trained him in the use of my father's equipment. This new Green Goblin has been seen here in New York City, and has been asked to join the Justice League. However, it is now my belief, that the best way to end my father's legacy is to reveal this new Green Goblin to the public, after arming him with weapons of my own invention. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Green Goblin!"

    Green Goblin swoops in. The new armour had a fearsome, formidable appearance, with retractable batwings underneath the arms, and clawed fingertips.

    "Now, to ensure this man's privacy, his identity will be kept a secret. He is an employee of Oscorp, and a member of the Justice League. I have a statement from Captain America to this effect, which will be distributed to all members of the press following this press conference. Thank you all for coming. There will be no time for questions."


    The television explodes in a shower of sparks and glass as the Green Goblin's fist shatters the screen.  The Goblin screams in rage as he lifts the smoking television over his head and throws it flying towards the far wall.  Before it can strike, the Goblin points both hands and unleashes two crackling blasts of energy that strike the television and explode it into a million pieces.

    "Fool boy!" the Goblin shouts, clenching his fists in rage, "this is how you repay your father?"  A powerful kick sends the chair flying towards the back wall where it strikes with great force.  "So, my formula isn't good enough for the little gobling?  My weapons not great enough?"  A pumpkin bomb flies towards the back wall, exploding against the heavy concrete sending shrapnel flying. "No, my legacy isn't good enough for you, eh Harry?  The Green Goblin isn't strong enough for you?  Deadly enough?  You think you can do better?"

    The Green Goblin snatches up a framed picture that had been lying underneath his chair, a picture of Harry Osborn.  "I don't know what stooge you put in that suit for the pathetic masses, but I know who will really be wearing it.  Weak as you are, you're still an Osborn, you'll trust no one but yourself.  Oh, little gobling, how little you know."

    The Green Goblin's voice begins to calm, taking on a more paternal tone.  "I've been too soft on you, I see that now.  I've not properly prepared you for the burden you now blindly seek to take up.  We shall have to teach you another lesson, little gobling; a lesson in power."  Bending over he picks up the severed head of the Hobgoblin, holding it high and staring deep into the empty eyes of the mask. "And you, old friend, will help me teach the gobling what he needs to know."