A/N: Okay-doke. Let's go through this.
I do not
a) own any of these characters
b) write anything as well as the original authors
c) like Dr. Phil. What's with that guy?
d) um . . . d is for . . . doughnut?
'kaydoke?
Bueno!
On with the insane story . . .
Wolverine was happily walking down the hallway munching on some beef jerky rather noisily when, with a flash, a bang, and a poof of purple dust, he was no longer in a hallway. Come to think of it, he probably wasn't in the same state. He was in Hawaii. Specifically, a bar in Hawaii, known to some people as a Hawaiian bar. How he knew he was in Hawaii is beyond me, but he was in a bar in Hawaii. A very large, very empty . . . bar.
An empty bar.
With no bartender.
"Huh," mumbled Wolverine. "What a coinkydink."
And then, the randomly-bright-yet-totally-evil lightbulb of doom popped up above his head.
ten minutes, thirty-two seconds later
Wolverine dusted his hands off, stepped back, and surveyed his handiwork. "Y'know, sometimes, I amaze myself," he said, half to himself, and half to his brain-child, which, he mused to himself, was utterly, truly, and amazingly ingenious.
He called it . . . the Pretzelstickinator.
In bars, there are copious amounts of alcoholic beverages, and these alcoholic beverages are usually accompanied by large pretzel sticks. Another thing you can find in bars are high-powered hoses out of which spew alcoholic beverages. Wolverine had snatched one of these ginormmous pretzels, filed it down with his claws, nibbled on it a bit, made the end sharp-ish, and shoved it in a hose, effectively making a high-powered beer-pretzel-spear-thingy-spewing gun.
Aiming the contraption at the dart board, he began to giggle. It was all a little insane, really. About eleven minutes ago—oh, now it's twelve—he was eating beef jerky and wandering aimlessly down a hallway. And now—he giggled again—he was pointing a sharpened pretzel-spear-thingy at the wall in some bar in Hawaii.
Life was soooooo entertaining.
Another bout of giggling hit him as he thought of the look on Angel's face if he could see this. This fresh gale of unsuppressed sniggering made him twitch. His finger squeezed the button . . . and the pretzel stick came flying out midst a stream of beer. The pretzel rebounded off the wall and hit him square between the eyes. As the world went black, he wondered why in the world he never listened to his mother when she told him never to shove a sharpened pretzel-spear-thingy down a beer-squirter-thingy, thus making a weapon of massive-pretzel-destruction.
Oh yeah . . . he thought hazily. She never covered that possibility.
And then he passed out.
When Wolverine woke up, he immediately noticed three things:
a) His head hurt like nothing else;
b) he was lying on the ground, and
c) inexplicably, he was five years old again.
Hmm, he thought. Maybe there was something in that beef jerky.
And then, he realized that
d) it was very extremely dark due to the fact that
e) his eyes were closed.
Maybe I should open my eyes, he thought off-handedly. Yeah, I should open my eyes.
"Hell-o-ooooooooooooooooo?" said a strange voice that sounded spookily like his second grade teacher, Mrs. Wownkski.
No, on second thought, I don't think I will.
"Hell-ooo, leetle aileen! My name is Raj. Welcome to Camp Kidknee!"
"Camp Kidney!" echoed another strange voice.
"Erh?" grunted Wolverine, and opened his eyes to a small, out-of-focus, yellow elephant. His brain registered this anomaly in reality right after it hit him that it was a cartoon. Another revelation that hit him was that there was an orange monkey, a pastel . . . thing . . . and a platypus with a sour expression on its face accompanying the minute golden pachyderm.
"So, Lazlo, what have you found now?" snarled the platypus.
"I dunno," said the monkey. "I think it's an alien."
"Alien!" repeated the pale thing. Wolverine distantly thought that maybe it could have been or possibly was a rhino.
A moose walked in. "LAZLO! What have I told you about bringing animals into camp!?" it yelled.
And, about that time, Wolverine's vocal cords caught up with his brain and screamed.
"Gah!" said the moose. "It's screaming!"
"It's saying hello!" said the monkey at the same time.
"Hello!" said the rhino-thing.
"Shh, Clam, I do not tink it can oonderstand you!" said the elephant.
"GetitoutofhereRIGHTnow!" said the moose.
Wolverine kept screaming.
"But Scout Master Lumpas . . . " whined the monkey, tugging on the mooses shirt.
"Hell-o-oo!" insisted the rhino-thing.
" . . . ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh . . . " shrieked Wolverine.
"hell-O!" said the thing, tackling Wolverine, who continued to scream incessantly.
And then, the purple dust washed over Wolverine and he feinted out of pure terror.
A/N: There is a button calling your name. It is the review button. Hear it? The ethereal voice saying HEY insert name here! CLICK ME! SUBMIT REVEIWS!? You do hear it, right? Good. You should listen to it. So go ahead. Click the button. Submit a review. And save a bored author from loneliness!
