you're standing in a dark alley at night in new york. It's 1933. a quiet "ahem" sounds behind you. you jump, startled, and brandish your self-defense knife. there's a tall man in front of you.

"hey, don't they tell broads like you to stay off the streets at night? all kinds of creeps walkin' around. don't want ya getting hurt. let me walk ya home, doll."

you've just met spider-man noir.