Hello! I would just like to say that I do not own X- men.
Yes I do.
No.
I'm kidding.
Kurt woke up with a yawn. His covers were all messed up, and half off his bed. He rubbed his eyes to clear away the late night blur. He glanced down at his watch and groaned at the bright red "3:43." He knew that when he woke up, he could never go back to sleep. It was a fact. He waited for his glowing, golden eyes to adjust to the darkness of the large room, which didn't take long, seeing that Kurt was… well, Kurt. He swung his legs around so that his six toes connected with the soft carpet.
On the other side of the room Spyke was snoring loudly, completely upside down and hanging off his bed, half covered with blankets and clutching his stuffed skateboard with googly eyes. Kurt snickered to himself as he watched his buddy. As he looked at his watch again (which betrayed to him that one minute had passed), a flicker of genius flashed through his head.
Yesterday Jean bought at least ten cans of whipped cream for Scott's birthday cake she was in the process of baking. Kurt, the king of pranks, could accomplish something bigger than he'd ever done. Something he'd always wanted to try, but never had the necessities to do. He didn't have access to sprayable whipped cream before, but now he knew exactly where Jean kept hers. He thought about it for one second, and decided that this was an idea. BAMF!
