DC: I do not own anything having to do with the x-men. If I did do you really think that I would be typing this for you guys? No I didn't think so either.

I would like to thank all the little people for reviewing my stories. Now, I would like to thank the academy for absolutely nothing the academy did absolutely nothing for me and probably never will. But I've accepted that and now I'm moving on into our story for the day.

The Chapter for the day will be a drum roll please (drum roll) a wolverine fic. Yay!

Mutant Therapy Sessions

Doctor: ME Yay!

Name: Logan?

Age?

Date of Session: 6/3/05

Time:11:43 AM because that's what my clock says on my computer.

A somewhat tall man walked into my office. He was well built. He was either a super hero or trained for unrealistic hours a day. Take your pick. His name is Logan. Logan Who? I don't know. He didn't tell me. His age he doesn't know. I began to think that this was going to be a case of amnesia. Let's just say I was wrong.

"Good Morning Mr. Logan. How are you today?" I ask him. That's right I'm the doctor. Dr. Rae Marvlix. (No that's not my first name or my last name. That's the name of my comic book character/ alter ego type thing. Don't panic she doesn't bite just gets really ticked off at times. A lot. And very easily so watch out.)

"Miserable like all the others," he answered. He usually answered like this all the time, even though this was his firs appointment with me. I could tell that was usually his answer to everything. He's the strong silent type. The ones that are hard to figure out unless you have cheese. Okay not cheese. Only if you got beer or something that he wants. Yet I don't have either because I'm only 14. This guy was old enough to be my great grand uncle's cousin's sister's husband's wife six and half times removed. Technically my great grand uncle's cousin's sister's husband's wife is just the sister but um we wont get into that.

"That's how it usually is or is it Mr. Logan," I said to him.

"huh?" he asked me slightly confused.

"Well if it's not miserable than it's something else. I bet you don't think that it's that miserable of a day. You probably think that it's a great day to go fishing or whatever it is that you do," I tell him.

"I guess that makes sense in a stupid kind of way," he says to me.

"So what is it that you do on days like this?" I ask him trying to get him to relax. He seems twitchy and uncomfortable. Kind of like a squirrel when it's on crack and is caught in the light of a flashlight.

"I hunt," he answers me with a grin. It's one of those evil grins that scare you. You know the ones the ones that the mad evil insane scientist have whenever they're about to do something incredibly stupid and evil.

"What do you hunt?" I ask him trying to find out what makes him tick. Not really I just don't know what else to ask him. I don't even have my degree yet. Heck I'm not even in school. I just walked in for my own therapy session and the guy ran out screaming after spending ten seconds with me. So I just stayed waiting for his next patient because I had no finals today and needed something else to do.

"I hunt big furry morons," he says to me. Now I'm a little confused. He keeps sniffing the air. So I decide to change the subject. (And that big furry moron is Saber tooth- incase you couldn't figure it out.) Now I need to come up with something. I know I'll use the old trick that has been around for years.

"So how does that make you feel?" I asked him. Well what was I supposed to say, "Do you look good in Spandex?" Yeah right. I'm saving that for another chapter. Can you guess for whom?

"It makes me feel good. Important. And I know that the stupid hairball can't come after me anymore," he says to me and now I'm even more confused.

"How's it going at home? Got any kids?" I ask him. I don't even know why this guy is even here. All I know is if I keep talking he wont know I'm not his usual therapist.

"I live in a mad house and I have 13 kids at home and two other people to help me out," he tells me.

"That's a lot of kids. No wonder you need therapy. How do you afford it with so many kids?" I asked him getting more and more interested by the moment.

"Well the one guy that I live with he's so rich that he could buy out Bill Gates," he tells me. My eye begins to twitch. Now I'm getting bored and I want to bet a squirrel.

"So what are you here for anyway?" I ask him.

"You're the doctor. Wait you're not my regular doctor who are you?" he asks me. he's starting to get mad. So I do the only logical thing to do in a time like this. I start running around the room screaming my head off. He staring at me this obviously isn't working.

"Well that's it for today. Time to go that will be. $650.32. See you next time. And pay the lady at the desk," I say this to him as I push him out the door, close it right behind him and lock it. This will be a very interesting day. I wonder who's next.

I notice a bunch of yellow folders on a nearby table. I pick up the next one. There's a picture on the inside of the folder. It's a picture of a guy. This guy looked really hot. He has brown hair and sunglasses. They're red. I love them red's my favorite color. He's my next appointment at 12:15. I can't wait. But sadly you will have to wait.

All right there's my random story so far. I didn't want to start out with jott so I did this. See y'all next chapter. Oh and press the review button. He's calling you. Please do it or I'll have to do a story on how lonely and neglected he feels because no one will press him and make him send a review. I bet he feels unimportant. That's not very nice for you guys to do to him.