***
Cooking School
***
CHAPTER ONE: A Call to Cook
***
The Boring Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, I don't own X-Men. Wish I did. But I don't. Marvel owns it, I guess. I DON'T OWN IT! SO DON'T SUE ME! IT'S NOT MINE!
***
Author's Note: For anyone who's wondering, I do not cook anything but scrambled eggs (my sunny-side up ones get all guey when the yolk falls over), Spam, ham, bacon, and noodles (the ones in those little plastic cups where you pour hot water into). It was late the other night; everyone was sleeping, when I wondered what would happen if Prof X fired all his cooks or if his chefs quit. I wrote it down the next morning and here's what I came up with!
***
"What?! You can't QUIT! We need you here!" Professor Xavier pleaded his cooks. "Who'll whip us meals for us now?"
"We no more!" His head chef said, his thick accent showing. "We no more like Indiana Jones! We no like whips! We like microwave!"
"No, no! I mean, who's going to cook for us once you're all gone?"
"Not us, that's for sure," the assistant replied, and they all stormed out of Prof X's office.
"Oh, no," he lamented, "What am I going to do now? No one can cook for me, unless…" His eyes widened, and his face lit up. "That's it!" He snapped his fingers. "I'll send some of our mutants to cooking school! Perfect!"
Within a few minutes, five of our heroes were huddled in the professor's office.
"Yeah, Prof?" Gambit asked, scratching his head. "I've got a poker game in fifteen minutes."
"I'm going to the parlor this afternoon," Logan said. After a few seconds, he looked around, noticing Rogue smiling at him, Cyclops and Storm smirking, and Gambit grinning like an idiot. "What?" Realizing his mistake he quickly added, "I mean, the barber. This hair is driving me crazy," and he scratched the back of his neck.
Turning back to X, who was trying to suppress his grin but couldn't, they all took a chair as he told them his plans.
"See, our cooks quit, and we need new ones, so.."
"Oh, no way you're hiring those weird folks who cook gross stuff!" Rogue exclaimed, bolting from her chair.
"No, no," he assured them, "You're way off course. We need new cooks, as I said. But we aren't hiring any new personnel." He paused for effect. "I'm hiring you."
Everyone's eyes widened in horror. They all knew anyone who tried to use the kitchen without proper experience would be doomed to reading long lists of ingredients in the cookbook only to have their work all burned and guey. Believe me, I've done it.
"NO WAY!" Rogue exclaimed, with more energy than ever.
"You've got the wrong guy. I'm not playing Crazy Eights with a tuna fish." Gambit scoffed, smiling in amazement.
"What you want me to do, Prof? Fry the chicken with my lasers?" Scott laughed, more out of nervousness than incredulousness (whatever that word really means), but was quickly silenced by Storm and Logan.
Logan and Storm decided not to say anything, because whatever the Prof wanted ended up that way anyhow.
"Sit, sit!" X said, laughing. "I am thoroughly amused by your humor. But this is a serious situation. I must have you enrolled at the De Countess Fine Cooking at once!"
They all hung their heads in resign.
"Oh, lighten up, people! It's just a week's course! With your knowledge, and, ahem, powers, you will be able to learn the art of the kitchen in no time! Now all of you, I want you ready by tomorrow. You start your classes then. Carry on."
They slowly began their trek to their quarters, in amazement at what just happened. "I cannot believe this," Gambit mumbled.
"You wouldn't believe what happened in the elevator last month either," Rogue replied, trying in vain to comfort her friend.
Storm scoffed. 'This is stupid."
"Now guys, I'm sure we can, uh, survive this thing!" Logan said.
Scott shook his head. "My mother tried to force me to help her in the kitchen. I couldn't survive one HOUR. And now what? One ENTIRE WEEK of torture!"
"It's been nice knowing you all," Rogue muttered grimly.
***
"Ah, wilcum to di Di Cuntes Cuking Class. Ah am Freige Di Cuntes, ah will be yur titcher for naow. Yur quarters will be upstairs. Guud luck!"
Our five heroes trekked up the dormitory's stairs and, upon reaching ther plush hotel rooms, prepared for their worst nightmare.
***
Okay. Was that okay? Hope so. First chapter is always shortest, as I always say. Second will be better, I promise. For now, I want all of you to REVIEW. If I do not get reviews I will never talk to you again nor will I write any more stories from here till forever.
Nah, just kidding. Anyway hope you liked this. Don't blame me; it took me only half an hour to write this with one bathroom break! So there. Enjoy!
***
Cooking School
***
CHAPTER ONE: A Call to Cook
***
The Boring Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, I don't own X-Men. Wish I did. But I don't. Marvel owns it, I guess. I DON'T OWN IT! SO DON'T SUE ME! IT'S NOT MINE!
***
Author's Note: For anyone who's wondering, I do not cook anything but scrambled eggs (my sunny-side up ones get all guey when the yolk falls over), Spam, ham, bacon, and noodles (the ones in those little plastic cups where you pour hot water into). It was late the other night; everyone was sleeping, when I wondered what would happen if Prof X fired all his cooks or if his chefs quit. I wrote it down the next morning and here's what I came up with!
***
"What?! You can't QUIT! We need you here!" Professor Xavier pleaded his cooks. "Who'll whip us meals for us now?"
"We no more!" His head chef said, his thick accent showing. "We no more like Indiana Jones! We no like whips! We like microwave!"
"No, no! I mean, who's going to cook for us once you're all gone?"
"Not us, that's for sure," the assistant replied, and they all stormed out of Prof X's office.
"Oh, no," he lamented, "What am I going to do now? No one can cook for me, unless…" His eyes widened, and his face lit up. "That's it!" He snapped his fingers. "I'll send some of our mutants to cooking school! Perfect!"
Within a few minutes, five of our heroes were huddled in the professor's office.
"Yeah, Prof?" Gambit asked, scratching his head. "I've got a poker game in fifteen minutes."
"I'm going to the parlor this afternoon," Logan said. After a few seconds, he looked around, noticing Rogue smiling at him, Cyclops and Storm smirking, and Gambit grinning like an idiot. "What?" Realizing his mistake he quickly added, "I mean, the barber. This hair is driving me crazy," and he scratched the back of his neck.
Turning back to X, who was trying to suppress his grin but couldn't, they all took a chair as he told them his plans.
"See, our cooks quit, and we need new ones, so.."
"Oh, no way you're hiring those weird folks who cook gross stuff!" Rogue exclaimed, bolting from her chair.
"No, no," he assured them, "You're way off course. We need new cooks, as I said. But we aren't hiring any new personnel." He paused for effect. "I'm hiring you."
Everyone's eyes widened in horror. They all knew anyone who tried to use the kitchen without proper experience would be doomed to reading long lists of ingredients in the cookbook only to have their work all burned and guey. Believe me, I've done it.
"NO WAY!" Rogue exclaimed, with more energy than ever.
"You've got the wrong guy. I'm not playing Crazy Eights with a tuna fish." Gambit scoffed, smiling in amazement.
"What you want me to do, Prof? Fry the chicken with my lasers?" Scott laughed, more out of nervousness than incredulousness (whatever that word really means), but was quickly silenced by Storm and Logan.
Logan and Storm decided not to say anything, because whatever the Prof wanted ended up that way anyhow.
"Sit, sit!" X said, laughing. "I am thoroughly amused by your humor. But this is a serious situation. I must have you enrolled at the De Countess Fine Cooking at once!"
They all hung their heads in resign.
"Oh, lighten up, people! It's just a week's course! With your knowledge, and, ahem, powers, you will be able to learn the art of the kitchen in no time! Now all of you, I want you ready by tomorrow. You start your classes then. Carry on."
They slowly began their trek to their quarters, in amazement at what just happened. "I cannot believe this," Gambit mumbled.
"You wouldn't believe what happened in the elevator last month either," Rogue replied, trying in vain to comfort her friend.
Storm scoffed. 'This is stupid."
"Now guys, I'm sure we can, uh, survive this thing!" Logan said.
Scott shook his head. "My mother tried to force me to help her in the kitchen. I couldn't survive one HOUR. And now what? One ENTIRE WEEK of torture!"
"It's been nice knowing you all," Rogue muttered grimly.
***
"Ah, wilcum to di Di Cuntes Cuking Class. Ah am Freige Di Cuntes, ah will be yur titcher for naow. Yur quarters will be upstairs. Guud luck!"
Our five heroes trekked up the dormitory's stairs and, upon reaching ther plush hotel rooms, prepared for their worst nightmare.
***
Okay. Was that okay? Hope so. First chapter is always shortest, as I always say. Second will be better, I promise. For now, I want all of you to REVIEW. If I do not get reviews I will never talk to you again nor will I write any more stories from here till forever.
Nah, just kidding. Anyway hope you liked this. Don't blame me; it took me only half an hour to write this with one bathroom break! So there. Enjoy!
***