Characters not mine. Please don't sue.
Actually, I had no intention earlier this evening of writing this bit of froth. However, after posting a few pieces of x-movie dialog, I found myself enamoured of the feedback. That whole write & get reviews thing was simply too cool for words. I really liked it. I got hooked. So I thought: "Maybe if I write some more, I'll get more feedback." Why not? I mean the kids are watching a teletubbies video. The husband's engrossed in John Wayne. It's still forever until bedtime because of stupid daylight's savings. Why not write more?" So I did. And if you find yourself inspired to review it, why not? I might end up writing more. We'll call it an experiment.
Silence reigned.
A forlorn and ragged Jubilation Lee stood dejectedly in the midst of the rec-room, trailing a pink-tinted mass of unmatched socks and undershirts behind her. Jubilee quivered with the effort of holding back tears. Similarly, socks and undershirts quivered with a degree of static electricity not normally seen in well-behaved laundry.
Hank McCoy, the sole other occupant of the rec-room took a second to blink and to conclude correctly and quickly about the chain of events that led up to this precipitous entrance. One sock flew under its own power to cling to Hank's well-furred brow. He ripped it away with a sharp crackling sound and then spent a minute attempting to dislodge it from his hand. "Facinating," he observed. "Excessive ionization".
This astute observation proved to be the breaking point for Jubilee. She collapsed in sobs. "There, there," Hank soothed her. "It certainly cannot be that bad, can it?"
"I'm aÉfailure," she wailed. "I can'tÉevenÉdoÉlaundry right."
"Nonsense, surelyÉ" Hank continued.
"You don't understand," Jubilee cried. "I *paffed* it. It went boom." She fell into Hank's increasingly sock-strewn arms as he murmured comfort and patted her back.
"Sweetheart, we have a laundry service. Why were you doing your own wash?"
A mumble that sounded like "eck" emerged from the sobbing creature.
"What was that? I couldn't hear thatÉ"
"I said," Jubilee enunciated distinctly, "that it was a homework assignment. For my Home Ec class."
"Oh," said Hank. "I see."
"And nowÉI've *paffed* it. And I'm going to fail home ec. And the Prof is going to drop me from the team. He told me that I had to maintain a B average if I wanted to keep working with you guys in my spare time. Do you see now?"
"Yes. Quite the dilemma." He thought. "Jubilation, did Ororo specify where you had to perform your assignment?"
A pause. "NoÉ"
"Would you like to drive downtown and find a Laundromat?"
"Oh, could we?" Hope spread across Jubilee's face. "That would be great."
"Sure. I'll ask Logan if he'll loan us his Jeep."
Within the hour, three X-men were driving hurriedly through the dark Westchester suburbs. A large laundry bag perched precariously in the back of the Jeep with attendant bleach, starch, softener and other accoutrements keeping it company. Logan drove the jeep with a single-minded attention carefully calculated to unsettle the calmest of souls. Fortunately, the other occupants were long since used to the unique style and recklessness of their driver.
"Are you sure you wanna come along, Logan?" Jubilee asked.
"Sure, kid. Anyway, I'm not letting blue-boy borrow my wheels. Last time, he drove a few hundred miles with the Oil-light on."
"I believe I have long since apologized for that oversight, Logan."
A pause ensued followed by a grudging but unforgiving "Yup." The jeep drove on.
Before long, lights appeared on the road and they arrived in town. Given the hour and the cold, windy season, parking was not a problem. Logan pulled up in front of "Jimmy's Laundry" and helped Hank and Jubilee unload.
The laundromat was brightly lit with fluorescent lights, hot and humid. Strong "floral" and "spring-fresh" scents pulled unpleasantly at Logan's nose. He grimaced and pulled out a stogie. He was about to step outside to wait when the other two turned their attention to the task at hand. Amused, Logan stopped to watch for a while.
Hank helped Jubilee pick out a likely machine. Carefully, they loaded the machine with light-colored laundry, measured out detergent. They counted out quarters and set the machine in motion.
"I'll wait outside," Logan said, with his best poker face. Hank and Jubilee waved him away as they sat down to watch their load through the transparent front door of the machine.
Logan stepped outside into the crisp night air, a brisk contrast to the hot-house Laundromat atmosphere. He planned to have a word with Ororo tomorrow. Maybe he could sweet-talk her into giving the kid a pass. Some people just didn't have the knack for domestic stuff. It didn't mean they didn't try hard. Surely, 'Ro would understand that. And if not, maybe Jubes could do a make-up assignment. He shrugged and lit his stogie. It was going to be a long evening.
Back inside, Jubilation Lee and Hank McCoy fidgeted in small hard-formed plastic chairs. They hopefully watched the laundry go 'round and 'round in their machine, a top-quality Maytag dryer.
And outside, Logan smoked and laughed.