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The Xavier Mansion Diaries: Logan (X/X2)

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  • Jennifer Matarese
    Author s Note: Sorry it s taken so long to get the next one out. People keep expecting me to have a life outside of the computer. *snort* What s that all
    Message 1 of 1 , Jun 12, 2003
      Author's Note: Sorry it's taken so long to get the next one out. People
      keep expecting me to have a life outside of the computer. *snort* What's
      that all about, anyway? Sheesh ...

      The Xavier Mansion Diaries: Logan
      by Troll Princess

      DAY ONE

      Cigars: 3. Alcohol units: Was not aware I was supposed to be counting.
      Definitely don't have enough fingers and toes to make *that* worthwhile.

      Beat the s*** out of twelve truckers, two construction workers, a nun, two
      orphans, and a midget. Oh, yeah. Life is good.

      DAY TWO

      Cigars: 4 (V. good) Alcohol units: Still not counting, but as second tap
      from the left now named after me, cannot be good.

      Beat the s*** out of fourteen truckers, three construction workers, a rodeo
      clown, three postal workers, and David Hasselhoff. Have no idea what David
      Hasselhoff was doing in Canada, but can assure you that his chest not half
      as hairy or manly as mine. Go, me!

      Also, have picked up strange skittish girl with serious attraction for yours
      truly. Girl obviously swept off her feet by near-slaughter of barroom bully
      and attempt to ditch her in middle of nowhere in meteorologically
      inappropriate outfit. Cannot blame her one bit, as serious attraction to
      yours truly a sign of consciousness in forty-seven states.


      V. bad news, as have been attacked by title character from lame late-80s TV
      series with Linda Hamilton. No wonder he's pissed, as Sci-Fi Channel not
      even showing his reruns anymore.

      Maybe if I play dead, he'll go away.


      Yay! Have played dead, and am now positive that hairy behemoth gone for

      Either that, or hairy behemoth the person currently licking my chest.

      Not a complaint or anything, just an observation.

      DAY FOUR

      Ugh. Unconsciousness *boring*. I Spy and Twenty Questions impossible to
      play alone and with eyes shut. No wonder I don't do this more often.

      Wonder how long normal people stay unconscious. At least until the person
      giving them tongue baths stops, right?

      DAY FIVE

      That's it. Cannot possibly understand why anyone would stay in a coma, even
      with the tongue baths. Unfortunately, have woken up to find myself in
      strange mansion full of geeky mutants. Fortunately, got to take advantage
      of sudden awakening to grope sexy redhead.

      Okay, granted, more of a choke than a grope, but have made worse
      introductions in the past, so should be having sex with hot doctor in no
      time. Woohoo!


      V. bad news, as sexy redhead engaged to uptight nerd being devoured from the
      head down by rabid Viewmaster. Have no idea what she sees in him, as great
      slurping vacuum where his personality should be currently sucking all of the
      air out of the room.


      Am totally confused, as personal tongue bath in hallway greeted with
      fascinated, hypnotized stares. Cannot possibly understand why, as frequency
      of tongue baths while playing dead sure sign of it being most popular
      pasttime in this stupid place.

      DAY SIX

      Argh! Stabbed Rogue while in midst of horrible nightmare and am now
      unconscious. *Again*. Am really starting to regret ever meeting these
      geeks at all, as falling into a coma and waking up half-naked starting to
      become a bad habit.

      However, cannot really blame anyone for that last bit, as am definitely
      sexiest beast in this building. Go, me!


      Ack! Awoke to find Professor peeking under bedsheets appreciatively. Would
      ask why, but not sure I want to know the answer. Besides, rampant
      testosterone running through my veins bound to make anyone do crazy things.


      Am questioning entire meaning of life, as could have sworn everyone out to
      get me and me alone. However, elderly coot passed up my hairy chest and
      rippling muscles and abducted Rogue instead. Have no idea why, as am
      definitely sexier than Rogue and less likely to cause painful death after
      getting to third base.

      As if that weren't bad enough, entire mansion smells like day-old McRib
      sandwich. May go after Rogue against everyone else's wishes simply to get
      fresh air and keep from yacking all over the foyer.


      Am thoroughly disgusted right now, as bigoted senator has melted in med-lab
      while Storm held his hand. Am trying to keep straight face, but constant
      thought of "Melts in your mouth, not in your hand" has me dissolving into
      girlish giggles every time Storm walks into room.

      However, in spite of girlish giggles, am still most manly person in mansion.
      V. good!

      DAY NINE

      Oh, come on! Obviously not bad enough that Rogue abducted to be turned in
      really cutesy Energizer battery, as have only been in Statue of Liberty ten
      minutes and have already been attacked by apparently oxygen-deprived naked
      supermodel and that stupid Sci-Fi Channel reject again.

      Would blame the whole thing on my raging masculinity, but unfortunately
      appears to be attempt by sidekicks to keep me and the geek patrol away from
      old psychotic fogey.

      Don't understand why, since fogey not even half as manly as me.

      Hmph. Personally, starting to think blue chick more manly than old fogey.

      No, seriously.

      DAY TEN

      Ha! Have found new way to get Jean to *have* to touch me, as am now on my
      third bout of unconsciousness in two weeks.

      Good news: Jean touched parts of me that I'm positive haven't been touched
      on brainy boyfriend in months.
      Bad news: Was inserting catheter at the time.


      V. good news, as have left mansion to go on grand adventure to find past.
      Would stay longer, but not about to go for world record for number of comas
      in shortest amount of time. Also, would like to keep a shirt on for more
      than five minutes.

      Have taken Scott's bike, since would not be surprised if the car in "Ferris
      Bueller's Day Off" has seen the light of day more than this thing has.


      Have arrived at Alkali Lake after only four hours on motorcycle. Oh, yeah.
      May *never* give motorcycle back at this rate.

      Considering possible hint to mysterious past actually frozen wasteland, may
      need to go on an extended road trip to make myself feel better. V.v. good
      idea, indeed!


      V. bad news, as arrived at Disney World only to find that tea cup ride shut
      down for repairs. Am awash in despair, as broken tea cup ride means having
      to go on "It's a Small World" ride twice.


      Spit off Empire State Building. Old wives's tale about spit from Empire
      State Building hitting pedestrians obviously untrue --

      Hey, what was that scream for?


      Um, forget I said anything about spitting off Empire State Building.


      Mall of America not nearly as big as everyone says. Nearly bought Rogue a
      "My sworn protector went to find his past and all I got was an unrequited
      crush and this lousy T-shirt" top, but as long slogan means shirt roughly
      large enough to house Barnum and Bailey's circus, decided to leave shirt in


      Have returned to mansion only to find Jean groping Scott, Rogue groping
      obviously suicidal "boyfriend," and Ororo racing off to hopefully grope
      public menace #1.

      Definitely must have been away too long if effects of Wolverine-level
      manliness have already worn off. Not a problem, however, as have only been
      in the mansion twenty minutes and have already been offered enough long,
      involved tongue baths to keep me clean until Christmas.


      Ack! May not be most manly beast in mansion anymore, as during invasion of
      mansion by armed soldiers, deposited unconscious kid with student roughly
      the size of Montana. Student offered to help, but politely declined him, as
      my testosterone let out inadequate whimper and cowered in fear at the sight
      of him.


      Have escaped soldiers invading mansion in Scott's car with Rogue, ice-making
      boyfriend and snotty sidekick. Ha! Am definitely most masculine in car --

      Argh! N'Sync?! May stab claws directly through radio, as fruity boy band
      music like kryptonite to my delicate testosterone. Can already feel my five
      o'clock shadow sinking back into my skin in abject fear.

      No wonder brainy nerd doesn't ever smell like aftershave, as favorite music
      used as aural depilatory.


      Great. Have been shot in forehead by idiot rookie cop. Can only be
      grateful he didn't shoot me in the chest, as lose far too many perfectly
      good shirts that way.


      Woohoo! Jean overwhelmed by my obvious sexual superiority. Currently
      crawling all over me. V. good news --

      Hey. What the hell are these scars?


      May never stop gagging, as Jean actually Mystique in disguise. Stupid blue
      beanpole also turned into Storm, Rogue, and Stryker. Can only be grateful
      that she wasn't still making out with me when Stryker popped up.

      Ewww. Now have nasty mental image that may *never* go away. As campsite
      far away from nearest liquor store, may have to resort to guzzling airplane
      fuel straight from the tank.


      V. good news, as creepy female knockoff of me filled full of adamantium and
      left to get gross and rotten at bottom of giant bathtub, and Stryker
      currently chained to concrete wall outside plane. Heard dirty rumor there
      was battle elsewhere in drippy old dam, but can't possibly be very important
      as has nothing to do with search into mysterious past.


      All right, that's it! Totally understand that jerk's hottie fiancee is
      dead, but Scott's constant blubbering getting incredibly annoying. Also,
      sight of his quivering, pouty bottom lip strangely hypnotic.


      Wow! Can now understand Jean picking Scott over me, as geeky twerp
      apparently sex-crazed band geek in disguise.

      Granted, has not brought up any naughty deeds done with flutes, but is only
      a matter of time as kinky bastard's proposed almost evrything else --


      Is that tapioca I smell?

      Troll Princess
      Flavor of the Moment -- Now Moving to a New Location!
      Because sometimes, leaving your brain at home is a good thing.


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