Before I grew to the chiseled, abs-carved-from-stone man I am today, I was a chubby kid. Like most chubby kids, I loved pretending to be a superhero, and I had a fairly robust stable of go-tos. Superman, that's easy. You jump off a couch, get a moment of weightlessness, boom. Superman.

Spider-Man, he's trickier. The key is nailing the feel of the swing, speeding up your run and then slowing down as you flick your inverted devil horns to the sky. I even nailed the costume. Between the ages of four and six, I was known to occasionally keep my Spider-Man PJs on under my street clothes, which was especially precious during the summer months.

This is Spider-Man. It's the idea that underneath a nerdy exterior lies a super-strong acrobat that can, at any moment, leap high above the bullies and teachers and swing away from it all.

The staffers of Beenox may have done their research and read plenty of back issues, but if Spider-Man: Edge of Time is any indication, they never, ever wore the PJs.