"You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake."
"What was that Rogue?" Kitty brings me out of one my dazes, again. I never know whether to hug her or hate her. Tolerance would do.
"Huh?"
"You were saying something about a beautiful snowflake."
"I was?"
"Yeah, you were. What's going on?"
"I'm not sure. I think someone tapped me."
The much younger mutant gasps; making a molehill into a mountain. "Tapped you?" Her whispered voice nearly brings laughter rising out of my throat. Nearly. But someone else starts talking to me and I get distracted.
[You are not your job.]
Who the fuck you are?
[I am Jack's liver…The first rule of Fight Club is you do not talk about Fight Club. The second rule of Fight Club.]
You're a liver? Gee, that's nice. Now that we've established you're completely mental, where's the rest of your body?
[The first rule of Project Mayhem is you do not ask questions.]
You sure like your rules, don't you?
[The first rule of Project Mayhem is-]
You do not as questions, yeh I've got that. Okay then, describe what you look like.
[I look like you wanna look, I fuck like you wanna fuck, I fight like you wanna fight. I am smart, capable, and most importantly, I am free in all the ways that you are not.]
I'm getting nowhere with you, freakin hitting rock bottom.
[Hitting rock bottom isn't a weekend retreat.]
No, I suspect it is a bit more like dying.
[With a gun barrel between your teeth, you speak only in vowels.]
I really don't want to know how you're aware of that fact.
"Did you know if you mix equal parts of gasoline and frozen orange juice concentrate, you can make napalm? You determine your level of involvement in Project Mayhem. Hey, you should join our club Lou." I watch as Kitty whips out her phone faster than should be humanly possible while I'm talking, her worried eyes never leave me but I'm not sure anymore what I just did to warrant such panic.
"Scott, come get us, quick! Rogue's doing that thing again!"
He walked down the street with more supplies for Project Mayhem balanced haphazardly in his arms. His eyes scanned over every guy he caught glimpses of, sizing them up, like Tyler had taught him. He brushed against a couple of teenaged girls as he continued his stroll down the sidewalk, his fingers tingling like they always did when he was in the mood. Too bad it was only Wednesday; he'd have to wait till Saturday for the next Fight Club meeting. He wasn't too sure he'd make it without punching someone.
"So what do you want to do tonight Tyler?" Silence, which was unusual; Tyler rarely stopped talking. "Tyler?" He glanced around frightfully up and down the boulevard. Tyler was gone. How could Tyler be gone? He was just there!
"You determine your level of involvement in Project Mayhem. Hey, you should join our club Lou." Tyler's words, but where was he? Four, maybe five stores away, a young woman was on her knees, clutching her head and the only reason he even noticed her was because of the burn he could see on her hand. Then, as if on cue, he could hear Tyler speaking through her. "The things you own end up owning you."
A black Benz pulled up to the young woman, and before he could break through the crowd, her friend frantically put her in the waiting vehicle, getting in after giving the area an once over.
"TYLER!" He wailed as the car's wheels squealed and it pulled away.
"Kitty, what happened!" Scott demanded as he weaved them through traffic as fast as legally possible.
"I don't know. She said someone had tapped her, like, right before she went nuts."
"Tapped? Are you sure?"
Kitty nodded her head, "yeh, that's what she called it." She glanced to her friend, who was still holding her head in agony, muttering incoherently.
"Don't worry Kitty; the Professor will know what to do." The much younger mutant reluctantly nodded, knowing he was right, but still frightened by the small chance Scott was wrong.