Magneto sat at the head of the table, brooding. Around him sat his (somewhat) loyal acolytes. Pyro fiddled nervously with a box of matches, trying not to disturb Magneto, or to bother Mystique, who sat next to him. On the other side of the table sat Sabretooth, who was filing his nails into points, and Colossus, rubbing anxiously at his metal skin. Magneto surveyed his minions, and decided they were sufficiently intimidated. It was time.
"My acolytes," He began, "I have devised a new plan to crush the X-Men, and bring about mutant superiority! Hear this-"
"Do we have to?" interrupted Mystique. "None of your plans ever work. All that happens is that we get injured and humiliated by the X-Men."
"Silence!" Magneto pounded the table. "I am a genius! I have simply been biding my time, luring the X-Men into a false sense of security!"
"Oh, obviously!" Pyro hastened to add. "And, we just love the, um, timing! Yeah, that's it, the timing of your plans. It's almost enough time to recover from the last one!"
Magneto glared at him so hard his helmet almost fell off. Pyro hurriedly struck a match and muttered the word fire over and over and over.
"Enough!" Magneto whacked the table again, then whimpered and rubbed his hand. Sabertooth snickered. Trying to pretend that didn't happen, Magneto proceeded. "I have bought a large amount of tinfoil. We will completely cover Bayville with it. Then, Mystique will turn into a pterodactyl, and fly me over the Atlantic Ocean. Using my magnetic powers of magnetism, I will pull Bayville into the sea! Therefore obliterating the X-Men! There is no way this could fail!"
"Are you joking? There is no way this could work!" Sabretooth argued.
"What I want to know is," Pyro said timidly, "where you got the money to buy all that tinfoil."
"Hey, where do you get the money to fund all your schemes? You don't have a job. Even though you make me work…" Mystique said.
"And who's gonna put all that tinfoil all over town?" added Colossus.
"First off, Mystique, working at a school with my child must be a joy." Magneto said, ignoring the snort Mystique gave him in reply, "and second, Pyro, I got the money working as a lawn gnome in Vinny-tasia. Life there was hard for people like me… But I did what I could, Walking twenty miles, back and forth to my job, uphill both ways, standing in a garden all night to keep the trolls away."
"You worked as a lawn gnome? That explains your fashion sense," said Sabretooth.
Magneto almost hit the table again, but remembering the last time, settled for a harsh glare.
"But who's gonna put the tinfoil around?" insisted Colossus.
"I was just getting to that!" shrieked Magneto. "I'll make the Brotherhood do it! Mystique, when you return to the boarding house, there should be several trucks full of foil waiting there. Inform the Brotherhood what they must do! Is there any other questions?"
"Yeah." Said Pyro. "Does Mystique or you have legal custody of the Brotherhood?"
"What?"
"I wanna know. And where did Quicksilver live before he came to the boarding house?"
"Well- where did Toad live?" countered Magneto. "Cos from what I heard-"
There was a cough from the doorway. In it, stood- Mystique?
"What," she said, her voice dangerously calm. "In the name of sanity, which is something you all obviously don't posses, is going on here?"
Pietro reached up and pulled the pot from his head and tugged the red blanket off his shoulders. Around him, the rest of the Brotherhood was doing similar things. Toad had pulled off the orange sweatshirt he was wearing, and used it to rub out some of the gel that had kept his hair in spikes. Rogue was wiping blue makeup off her face. There was a painful sounding rrriip! As Blob puller silver duct tape off his arms, and Lance had put down the file and the blonde wig he had been wearing.
"I'm waiting." said Mystique, tapping her foot.
"Uhh," Pietro looked around, hoping some kind of decent excuse would come to mind. One didn't. Instead, he handed her an empty cardboard tube, the object that had started the whole thing. "We need more tinfoil."