Cue Mr. Happy and Co-operative number two. It's entirely possible that he hasn't left the roof since he was gestated.

"Okaaay, firstly; I'm you're friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man. I can do this," I'm-hanging-frome-the-ceiling jazz hands are go, "and sew the pants off you, then back on again... amongst other totally dope things."

A zipline puts him roughly at eye level with those polite enought to stand on the floor.

"Secondly; this whole command structure dealy? Yeah, not workin' for me. They got rid of the draft for a reason, and I don't like to blow my own horn but word on the street is that I'm something of a trendsetter. I'm serious, my merch sells faster than Obama shirts."

Is he supposed to know about those yet? "But thirdly, I have been in an environment very similar to what I think this is. Last week, in fact, and I think I might be of some help there."

Someone shut him up before he launches into Les Miserables. If only for Javert's sake.