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Fic: You Can Tell It's Friday (humor, PG)

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  • loonylittlewitch
    Title: You Can Tell It s Friday Author: Lisea (loonylittlewitch@yahoo.com) Author s (recently renovated )website: http://www.freewebs.com/draakkon Rating: PG
    Message 1 of 1 , Feb 13, 2004
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      Title: You Can Tell It's Friday
      Author: Lisea (loonylittlewitch@...)
      Author's (recently renovated )website:
      http://www.freewebs.com/draakkon
      Rating: PG
      Pairing: None, student fic
      Summary: "If the Mansion was locked down, who'd be the first to get
      eaten?"
      Notes: During this fic the alcohol was slowly starting to effect.
      Pre-X2
      Thanks to Quidam, my beta!

      ***


      "If the Mansion was locked down, who'd be the first to get eaten?"

      In the recreation room, Jubilee turned around to stare at
      Bobby. "Huh?"

      "Think of it. If this house was completely locked down, doors
      locked, no escape, who'd be the first to go? If we'd have to resort
      to cannibalism, who'd be the first to get eaten?" Bobby mused,
      staring absently at the TV screen.

      "Someone who's meaty," Kitty said. "Powers aside, the Professor
      can't run away. But he's too skinny."

      "Peter's meaty," Jubilee said, "but he'd just turn to metal. Or we
      could wait till he falls asleep and then sink our teeth into him."

      "Then there's Scott. He's got these nice chicken leg arms," Kitty
      giggled.

      Bobby piped up. "What makes you think it's going to be a man that
      gets eaten first?"

      "You'd kill a woman, Bobby?" Rogue asked. "What kind of a gentleman
      are you?"

      "The clever kind. Ladies first, you know?"

      Which was followed by a pillow to the back of his head.

      "How about Storm?" Bobby offered.

      "Too skinny."

      "Definitely."

      "Bobby?" Jubilee snickered.

      "Try it," Bobby said, turning his right hand into transparent,
      clear, solid ice. "Served chilled."

      "Eww. John then."

      "He even comes with fire. He could cook himself up," Kitty said.

      "But we'd need him to cook the food," Bobby reminded them.

      "Then there's Scott," Kitty offered again, and got suitably dreamy-
      eyed. "Especially those arms of his. I swear to god, they look like
      chicken legs."

      "Don't drool."

      "Logan!" Rogue said suddenly and got up to share her idea to the
      others. "Think, you could cut his bicep or whatever off, stick it on
      a stick, and cook it over the fire, and he'd just grow himself
      another one! It's perfect!"

      "You wouldn't even have to kill him! He's, like..." Jubilee reached
      for the word, "the horn of plenty."

      "Or `horny for plenty'," Bobby said under his breath.

      Outside, on the veranda just outside the open window, Logan inhaled
      a bit too much of the cigar smoke, Jean tried to stifle a laugh,
      Scott was laughing out loud, and the Professor was trying hard not
      to.
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