Meet Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson-Parker from Marvel's Spider-Man comic books. They are about to sell their 20-year marriage to the devil. This fate could have been avoided if they had a Sassy Gay Friend.

"What are you doing?" shouts SGF, jumping in front of the Parkers and waving his arms around as if he's flagging down a runaway train. "What, what, what are you doing?!?"

Peter blinks in surprise. "Uh..."

"Who the heck are you?" Mary Jane wants to know, crossing her arms in annoyed defiance.

"Not important. For the love of all that is super, don't tell me you're seriously going to—"

"Sassy Gay Friend." Mephisto snarls the man's name like a curse. "I should've known. You never could resist meddling in matters that didn't concern you."

"Save it, Satan," SGF replies, silencing the demon with a wave of his sassy orange scarf. Surprisingly, Mephisto freezes on the spot, an accusing finger still pointed at SGF and the two confused humans in front of him.

At this point, Peter Parker has absolutely no idea what is going on. Then again, his life stopped making sense ages ago, so in hindsight, a dude in a scarf freezing the devil in place is pretty standard for a Wednesday.

"Now that that's out of the way," says SGF in bossy tones, "step away from the hellfire and keep the freakin' rings on!"

"You don't understand," Peter protests, twisting the aforementioned wedding ring around his finger as he talks. "Aunt May's life is in danger, we have no other option—"

"So we sell our marriages to the devil? SELL OUR MARRIAGES TO THE DEVIL?" SFG looks like he's about to bust a blood vessel. "Look, nothing against that aunt of yours, she's great, but how old is she? Eighty? Ninety?"

"Eighty-six, but—"

"Doesn't matter! The point is, the woman was three-quarters of the way to the pearly gates before Kingpin said howdy. She's lived her life, she's ready to go, and if she was here she'd be backing me up!"

"But if I hadn't revealed my secret identity, she would never have been shot in the first place—"

"Oh my god, Spidey, get over yourself!" SGF facepalms. "What is it with you superheroes and your it's-all-my-fault complexes? I literally just got done with Batmope and his never-ending parade of woe-is-me; if I have to deal with your wah-wah shtick too, I might just go full supervillian and then you can say it's your fault!"

Peter begins to nervous pick at his finger. "But—"

"Don't pick at your finger!"

Peter stops picking at his finger.

"First of all, it was Kingpin who shot your aunt, not you, so it's technically his fault, though to be fair, you really weren't helping with the whole 'look-at-me-I'm-Spider-Man' nonsense, but I'll yell at you about that another day. Second of all, even if it is your fault, there's this little thing called 'taking responsibility.' Remember your Uncle Ben? 'With great power comes great responsibility, blah-blah-blah?'" He waves his hands around as he talks. "Well, since when did 'great responsibility' become 'no responsibility, let's just dodge the draft and refuse to let go of your loved ones to the point of selling your marriage to the freakin' devil?'" He rolls his eyes. "God, Pete, you are such a stupid—"

MJ cuts him off before he can unleash his catchphrase. "Listen, you twit," she snarls, standing between Peter and SGF as if she's defending a skinny ninth-grader from a five-hundred-pound twelth-grade bully, "I don't care who you think you are. You leave my husband alone or I will end you, understand?"

Twelve awkward seconds of silence pass before a smile spreads across SGF's face. "See, Parker? See what you'd be throwing away?"

Peter starts picking at his finger again, trying not to meet MJ's eyes, his resolve beginning to weaken. "I—I know, she's amazing, I love her, but—"

"Don't pick at your finger! Look, I'm normally not into the sappy stuff, but I've been here literally three minutes, and even I ship you guys. Trust me, Petey, if I had something like what you and MJ got, I wouldn't let him go if it meant the freakin' world would blow up Krypton-style tomorrow."

"MJ's a girl—"

"Don't change the subject! And you're seriously telling me you'd let the best thing that ever happened to you go for no good reason? Look at your life. Look at your choices. You don't even know if this is gonna be worth it!"

"We're not doing this just for May, you know," MJ pipes up. "He'll get his secret identity back, and then he can go back to being a carefree playboy/bachelor again—"

"Save it, Joe Quesada!" SGF screams. "I'm not buying any character derailment today, thank you. I don't know what kind of author's hold you have on these two, but you better drop this moronic storyline before I single-handedly tank your comic book sales forever!"

"Oh, no!" cries a voice from on high. "Not my comic book sales!"

Satisfied, SGF unfreezes Mephisto with another sassy scarfwave.

"Forget it, Mephisto," says a suddenly-decisive Peter, his hands balled into fists, his dark eyes flashing. "The deal is off."

Mephisto, who clearly wasn't expecting this, stammers, "But-but your aunt..."

"...will probably come back anyway," SGF points out. "No one stays dead in comic books except for Uncle Ben." Then, to MJ, "P.S., this is the best your hair has ever looked!"

"Thanks," says MJ, who's heard it all before.

Mephisto's beady eyes linger on SGF's sassy scarf. "You," he snarls, his face screaming murder. "You are going to pay for this—"

"Sure," SGF deadpans, snapping his fingers in a Z formation. Mephisto vanishes with a bloodcurdling scream. and Peter and MJ suddenly find themselves back in their apartment.

"Well, that was a trainwreck," MJ remarks. "Who even was that guy?"

Peter pulls his wife in for a long, lingering kiss. "An angel, MJ," he whispers against her hair. "An angel doing God's work."

"A sassy gay angel?"

"Exactly."