The Xavier Mansion Diaries: Logan (X/X2)
- 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
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.
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.
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?
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
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.
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.
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.
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
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?
FIVE MINUTES LATER
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
ONE HOUR LATER
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?
FIVE MINUTES LATER
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.
TWO HOURS LATER
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?
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