Seriously, we really need an X-Men comedy. Thats what I'm here for. Give this one a chance. It's going to get better. For those of you who like comedy, step up to the plate and offer me ideas. I'll be needing all the help I can get. Review! See you at the bottom.
Logan was the kind of guy who could down a six-pack in two minutes flat. Bar fights were his specialty and no one messed with him…unless they wanted a death sentence. He preferred red-heads and hated kids. Monday mornings were bitches and he hated skinny-dippers. Motorcycles were in and chick-flicks were out. He detested prissy people and couldn't stand David Letterman. Steak was delicious while raspberries gave him a rash. Cussing was his own, personal, vocabulary and he used it on a daily bases, well, maybe a bit more then that. Nose-rings annoyed the shit out of him, and blue was his favorite color. But most of all, Logan was a mutant.
"Piss off." Logan barked, sticking up his middle finger. The man glared back but kept on moving. The grubby bar on Fifth Street was a crap hole, filled with assholes and mutants alike. Two beefy men began arguing from across the room, pool sticks in hand. What he wouldn't give to get in a decent bar-brawl.
Logan hunkered down on a vacant bar-stool and ordered a beer. Life was pretty shitty at the moment, especially now that Stryker was on his trail. He couldn't run forever, but he sure as hell could try. The bartender handed him an ice-cold beer.
The two men, who'd been arguing, were now throwing knock-out punches. One already acquired a bloody nose, while the other was caught in a head-lock. Logan laughed. Idiots like that would never make it anywhere in life. He was living proof.
A drunken man next to him was gobbling up a piece of beef, spraying chunks of fat in different directions. Logan once attempted to become a vegetarian. After two weeks of living off of carrots and lettuce, he gave up. His metabolism just wouldn't accept the change. Besides, he got tired of the color green.
He finished up another beer and headed out the door, leaving a tip for the bartender. His motorcycle was parked in front, just incase a dickhead tried something funny. Assholes around New York City did stuff like that.
Logan revved the engine and it purred like a kitten under his touch. He took off with a squeal of burning rubber. The city flew by in bright swirls of color as he accelerated and headed off towards the highway.
The motel that he grudgingly called 'home' was five minutes from the bar, so the ride home was quick. Logan parked his Harley, and stomped up the steps to his apartment.
The lights flickered on when he steped into the one-bedroom flat. It was a filthy mess. He hated cleaning and wasn't very good at it. The kitchen, not that it could even be considered a 'kitchen', was smaller then the bathroom.
Logan plopped down on the couch, cussing as he sat down on a random thumb-tack. Freaking shit-hole he thought to himslef. Nothing on T.V seemed to hold his attention, so he gave up and went to bed.
The phone rang, startling Logan, causing him to fall out of bed with a giant thud. "Fuck." he cussed, it was four in the morning.
He picked up the phone, "What the hell?" Logan snarled into the reciever. A old mans voice on the other line made him regret his language.
"Logan?" Professor Xavier's voice made him want to drop the phone.
"Dammit Chuck, some of us are trying to sleep here." The Professor laughed on the other line. Logan felt like hanging up, but controled the urge.
"Can you stop by the school tommorow? There are certain things I've been meaning to discuss with you." Logan sighed.
"No Chuck, I will not babysit for you."
"That's not what I was going to say."
"Sure...."
"Logan."
"Yeah alright, now let me get some rest."
"Thank you Logan, goodnight."
Logan grunted and hung up the phone. After a few minutes he was out like a light.
Common people review, do it for Logan!!?? Tell me what you thought and what you'd like to see.
-Carolyn