You expect a monkey with a computer to understand and write romance?! Hell, I'm lucky to understand Shakespeare! It would take an infinite amount of Kit's, writing on an infinite amount of computers for an infinite amount of time before Kit writes a romance fic, yo. Which brings us to today's chapter…. THE INTERLUDE! ::dramatic music cues:: … KURT! Turn that off! Anyway, this is another interlude, therefore it had nothing to do with the actual story. In fact, I'm writing this so you can skip over the interludes if you find them too insane.
I DO have an idea for the next chapter. But it will finally be back in old 'journal' style. No more extended chapter or 'to-be-continued's. Normalcy will return! It will return two seconds before the Armageddon hits, but that's another story. So, from the cramped, carpel-tunnel-ridden hand of Kit, to you, I give you … MAIL BAG!!
Hey! You can't ground me, TowardsZero!… well… you could TRY, but I'd break myself out. House arrest doesn't work to well on me. I really do tend to leap out windows, slide down gutters, and drop from the second story. I'm a loony.
GASP! RIAH-CHAN! You have thus inspired me! A fellow…uh… Madrox-ian! Well, I can tell you, Peter David probably didn't picture Jamie Madrox quite like this, eh?
Gyakutenno Megumi1: Seeing as how one cannot hurt Freddy the Blob from the outside, my idea would be to feed him toxic sludge in disguise of food. HAHA! I defeated the Blob! … aw great. Now I have the "Balloon Battle" game for Nintendo stuck in my head… ::wishes to go around popping balloon off of birds::
Oooo-oh Streeee-etch! I actually need to thank you. My beta wasn't around when I did my final review of the last chapter. Thanks for pointed out the tense-switches. And I'm an HP fan… a big, horrible, Fluffy fan. I love that puppy.
Faeryeyes: Ok, so Johnny is happy. And incredibly delusional from pixie stix. I'd now suggest padding the walls of your closet and making the whole room burn-proof. And never giving ANY of them sugar ever again.
Grand High Priest (you know who you are) Cypher: Eventually, if I EVER attempt a romance fic, you'll be the first I let know. That way, I can scream how it's all your fault.
ARG! PANTHERDRAGON! GOT MILK?! No? Then got a funnel, cause I'm going to force you to drink it!!!
"The Private Life of Jamie Madrox… INTERLUDE MADNESS … X2!"
9/14/03
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Jamie Madrox was sitting on his bed, gazing out the window with disappointment. He was grounded, again. It wasn't his fault this time either! He had only been trying to cook something in the kitchen. How was he to know the melting point of copper pots!? The damage to the kitchen wasn't as bad as they claimed. He only burned one spatula and caused the oven door to solder shut.
"I'm booooored!" Burying his head into his pillow, Jamie sighed.
"Someone call?" A voice asked. Jamie yelped and jumped up, his hand hitting the headboard and a lone multiple splitting off. Leaning out from under his bed was a girl with tri-colored hair, blindingly orange clothes, and a horribly familiar grin. And a tail. It couldn't be! But… IT WAS!!!
"Kit?" Jamie leaned over the edge of his bed to watch as she wiggled out. "… how'd you fit under there?"
Kit sighed, dusting off a layer of dust from her clothes. "I'm a bloody midget. What, you were expecting magic?" Kit sneezed. "Man, clean your room more often, Squirt! I'm covered in dust bunnies."
"Ok, so why are you wearing all orange? You look like a prison escapee." Jamie asked.
Kit looked down at herself, examining her blindingly orange shirt and her shiny orange pants. Even her shoes were a yellow-orange plastic. "What's wrong with orange?" At this, Jamie said nothing.
With the hassle of greeting out of the way, Jamie sat on his bed, lower lip pouting and arms crossed. Kit began to fidget under his stare. "What?" She became concerned.
Jamie pouted more, looking up at Kit with big, brown eyes. Those big, brown, vulnerable eyes that plead for attention and… uh… sorry, got distracted.
"… oh no! The Puppy-look!" Kit jerked back. "Ok! Give me a second! Let me search my pockets!" She waved her hands in submission, then jammed them into her pockets. "Lessee, twine, a yo-yo, my lighter, a box of pocky… uhh… pencil… a plastic army man, bottle rocket… nope… the cap of a marker, change, a sponge, more change, lint, sparklers, MORE change. I guess that's why my pants are so heavy." Kit smiled sheepishly. Jamie waited. "Ah HA! Here, ya whiner." Kit pulled out a full sized air horn and a megaphone. "Go knock yourself out, Squirt."
"Yee hooo!" Jamie grinned widely at his new 'toys'. "So, what's our story today? Random scenes in a blender again? Or have you a plot?"
"Plot?! From KIT?! Yer joking, right?" Kit's tail waved indignantly at even the thought of a plot. "No. Today, we are doing Q and A."
There was a silence. Kit became suspicious. Jamie was thinking of something. And judging by the leer on his little face, it was something perverted. "Don't you even think it, kid. Man, hormones make you little guys all weird." She shied away from him, taking a seat on his bed. Jamie's leer vanished instantly.
"So, what kind of questions can I ask?" Jamie began examining the buttons on the megaphone. COOL! There was a button for 'megamix'!
"Any question. Random interviews with characters. If you stump them… I dunno… give you something cool." Kit shrugged.
"But I can't leave the house," sighing, Jamie flopped over on the bed that Kit had just invaded. This lead to brainstorming. Two brains, a whoopie cushion, a savage dancing multiple, an air horn, a megaphone, and a pair of Shadowcat's socks were their entire inventory. Perhaps it was Pryde's socks that gave them the idea. Jamie began plotting.
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Wearing a gray trench coat, slacks, and one of those film-noir hats, Jamie Madrox left him room with a pad of paper and a pen. "Ok, I'm taking all the peoples in the Institute, and Copy n' Monkey are taking all the ones out of it… cause, I'M GROUNDED!" Jamie shouted, hoping someone would hear him and take pity on him.
Someone did hear him, but they had noooo pity. "Hey! Be quiet! Some of us are doing important things!" Ray shouted, leaning out of his room. Ray shared a room with Roberto, and it was probably not a good idea putting a morning person in with a typical teen (I'll let you guess who the morning person is).
"Ray! Ray, can I ask you some questions?" Jamie waved his hand, the overly large coat dangling from his arms.
"You just did."
"RAY!" Jamie yelled, his voice squeaking to a very painful note.
Beserker winced, shoving his door open all the way. "Fine! Just stop with the squeaking."
Jamie entered the room and then whirled around to face the older teen. "Where were you on the morning of the 12th? What is your alibi?"
"… what…" Ray stared at Jamie, looking bewildered.
"Ah HA! So you have no alibi!" Jamie began to jot notes down on his paper.
"Huh…" Ray was even more bewildered, and now 75% suspicious.
"So, if I were to tell you, 'the striped bandicoot flies at midnight', how would you respond?!" Jamie's question was so incredibly insane, Ray Crispin could think of nothing to say. Was it some sort of airborn sickness, or had all the strange adventures Jamie gone on given him temporary insanity? Hell… permanent insanity, maybe! Jamie jumped onto a desk chair when Ray didn't answer, the force of the jump pulling a single multiple out. "When I turn off the lights, the guilty party will leave!" Jamie's multiple then hit the light
Click …. .WHUMP "OW!" …. tp tp tp… CRACK! "Who just touched meee?!" Creeeeee… SHATTER! Zzzzzap! Slam! Sound of one hand clapping! Click.
As the lights came on, the room was revealed to be full of Jamies (one was dancing, one was breaking things, and the rest were blinded by the light), Ray was locked in his own closet, and a very confused looking Scott Summers was standing next to the light switch.
"I've decided I don't want to know." Scott said in a monotone, flicking the lights back out. Then he flipped then back on, just to double check. Seeing as the room was still filled with Jamies, ransacked, and Ray locked in a closet, he turned the lights back out. However, the constant on-off-on flicker of the light got every single one of Jamie's multiples breaking to a light switch rave dance.
This… may continue on for a while. Let's check up on our other Jamie.
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"For the last time, I'M NOT SELLING COOKIES!" Jamie's multiple shouted, pinned to the wall via hex bolt. While the original Jamie stayed in the house (thereby following the Professor's instructions to not leave), Copy-Jamie waltzed right out of the Institute. Well… maybe 'waltzed' is too strong of a word. It was more like, 'jumped out the window, ran to the gate, squeezed through, and then sashayed away'. Jamie's multiple was wearing one of Kitty Pride's dresses. It was a disguise, you know.
"You can't fool ME, Girl Scout! Where'd ya hide the cookies?" Pietro grilled.
"Do I look like a Girl Scout to you, Zippy?" Copy-Jamie wished he could kick his legs, but then thought better of it. Kitty's skirt was pretty short, and even as a guy, he didn't want to flash everyone.
"I dunno. She could be one of those 'navy seal's of the Girl Scouts. You know, the Girl Scout that goes around and takes YOUR cookies, yo." Todd was clinging to the wall nearby, ironically also searching for cookies. Copy-Jamie stopped struggling long enough to give Todd a very odd and dreadfully frightened look. Navy Seal Scouts? He NEVER want to run into one of those in a dark alley.
"Hey! Here's a cookie!" Freddy had found a cookie in the handbag Kit had leant Jamie (for 'the character' she claimed). And it wasn't gingerbread.
"I wouldn't eat that if I were you." Jamie warned.
"Why?" Freddy ate it.
"It fell on the floor, you know."
"So?" Chew chew chew.
"In Scott's room."
Chew chew… pause… BLAAAARG!
"Eww! Blob, that's gross! Couldn't you have least leaned into Toad's room?" Pietro was shuddering madly, trying to open the windows. Of course, this was mostly pointless since the glass had been broken out long ago.
"Can I get off the wall now?" Copy-Jamie asked. Wanda looked over at the familiar-yet-not stranger, then silently shook her head. "Then can I ask you all some questions since I'm just hanging around?"
"Questions? What kind of questions?" Lance was instantly suspicious. Suspicious of the semi-good/bad pun, more like it. 'hanging around'… have to remember that one for later…
There was a pause. "I can't remember." Copy-Jamie fell to the ground with a WHUMP as the witch lost concentration on her hex. "OW! I wrote them all down for a reason! Jamie has weird questions… err… 'I' have weird, no wait… 'we' have weird?" Copy-Jamie then became confused at the pronoun usage.
"Jamie? Why didn't you tell us that's you!" Tabby pulled Jamie off the floor, nearly jerking the not-so-small boy's arm out. She pulled the little tan berretta off his head and ruffled his brown hair. Copy-Jamie was then dragged by his skirt to the nearest chair.
Todd hopped to the ground, looked the boy over, and then raised an eyebrow. "Can I just ask… what's with the dress, yo? Cause as much as brown is your color, dawg…" Todd winced.
"It was the monkey's idea. I'm just a multiple though, Tabby, since Jamie got grounded. But I have questions to ask. I'm doing undercover journalism!" Copy-Jamie reached into Kit's large handbag and pulled out a spare set of clothes. Pulling the clothes over the dress (he was too embarrassed to change in front of everyone), Copy sighed in relief when he was wearing pants again.
"Well? What are you waiting for? Interview us!" Tabby scared Copy. Perhaps it was the fact that one of the multiples was finally getting a taste of their own medicine. Or maybe it was the fact that Pietro had drawn little doodles and clown faces on her face while she was napping. Yeah… it was probably the second one…
Retrieving the spiral notebook from the bag, Copy-Jamie began to read from the list. "Ok, if you could be any kind of cookie, what kind would you be?" He sighed, reading the question with the utmost of embarrassment. Jamie was trying to kill him. Wait… would that be murder, or suicide?…
The Brotherhood sighed in frustration. Yep. These were Jamie's questions.
"Tabby, you go first." Lance flopped himself over in an easy-chair.
The blond Explo-member of the Brotherhood began to think. "Well. I suppose I'd be, OOOOH! A chocolate-chocolate chunk cookie! You know, the entirely chocolate cookie with big pieces of chocolate?" Jamie did know about that. Those were his favorite. Whenever he ate them, he could almost feel his body going into pancreatic shock.
"I know! I know! I'd be a gingerbread cookie!" Pietro announced. Freddy gave him a look of horror. "You know, the 'run run run, as fast as you can' thing… that, and they are the only cookies shaped like men."
Freddy, in retaliation to Pietro's claim of cookie, chose his own. "I like those Girl Scout cookies. Those, 'Thin Mints'." Todd rammed his face into the sofa to prevent himself from laughing out loud. Nothing about Fred was 'thin'. And also, Todd didn't want to be a floor pie when one of Freddy's meaty fists crushed him for laughing.
Copy-Jamie began to jot down the answers, mildly disappointed this question hadn't stumped anyone yet. Todd was still silently snickering into the pillow when Lance elbowed him. He made a little noise in his throat, not at all unlike 'ribbit'. "Well, I guess I like the peanut butter cookies. It's the closest you can get without actually having nuts in your cookie, and it's plain, yo." It did make sense. The Chocolate-chocolate chunk was almost too sweet, but a normal peanut butter… it was allll good.
With four down, two to go, Lance went next. "If I HAD to be a cookie, I'd be a anchovy and salsa cookie." Freddy returned to retching at this and Tabby looked scandalized that cookies could be utterly disgusting. "Hey, Kitty made that cookie, you know! And that way, no one in their right mind would eat me."
"Wow Lance! That's the best idea ever!" Copy-Jamie babbled. Everyone so far listed cookies they would like to eat, therefore they'd have short cookie-lives. But Lance would live forever and ever as a cookie. Scribbling out the last of the answers, Copy realized there was still one person left who did not answer.
Everyone was looking towards Wanda. Wanda looked back. This caused most everyone to shudder in fear. "Oreo." She said simply, her darkened eyes warning everyone not to say a thing. Everyone began to jabber incoherent agreements to her decision.
Individual questions were next. One of them had to at least get the Brotherhood to be stumped. "Ok, this question is for Pietro."
"Ask me anything! I have no secrets! Errm, as long as you don't ask about any of Magneto's plans… or that time I got drunk and ran to Grand Central Station…" At this, Pietro actually looked embarrassed.
Copy blinked in confusion. "Uh. Pietro, why are you so evil?" Copy-Jamie read from the notebook. This question was actually from Kit and scribbled in her print. Man, Kit had some horrible handwriting… and she wrote with her tail.
"I'm not evil, just misunder ~ … well, ok, I'm evil." Pietro confessed. "But only when it's fashionably acceptable." The blank look returned to Copy-Jamie as he tried to contemplate his answer. Sadly, he failed this task, and then read the next question.
"This one is for Freddy. Hey Freddy! How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?" This was said at an incredibly fast speed as Jamie asked the rhetorical question. It was the goal to stump someone with a question. Rhetorical questions, or really really embarrassing ones seemed his only hope.
Freddy pondered for a moment. Copy-Jamie waited.
Freddy scratched his chin in contemplation. Copy-Jamie waited.
Freddy began to hum in thought, sounding like a transformer in overdrive. Copy-Jamie waited.
Pietro, however, did not. "JUST ANSWER! Any answer!" The speed-freak was nearly jumping out of his skin in his impatience. Todd thought Jamie was either still waiting or had fallen asleep with his eyes open and standing up.
"Fifty-seven and… uhh… half?" Freddy looked baffled.
The multiple looked down at his pad of paper. "… sure. That works." He shrugged, scribbling on the pad. Lance was trying to look over the little guy's shoulder. Copy-Jamie shot Lance one of Rogue's patented Death Glares™, and then returned to writing. The earth-shaker stumbled back, holding his shoulder as if he received a flesh wound. The young adolescent was finally developing the 'leave me alone/talk to MEEEEEE' complex that most teenagers have. After a full minute of writing (which, for that short answer, made no sense), he looked up at Lance.
"Ok… Lance. Your question is 'why?'." The duplicate wasn't even sure if that was a real question, but he asked it regardless. It was an inside joke anyway. This question is so 'inside', you'd need an endoscope to understand it. And if you don't know what an 'endoscope' is… uh… don't ask.
"BE-cause." Lance emphasized. When he said no more, Copy-Jamie raised an eyebrow and continued to write. The original Jamie asked weird questions.
To Tabby he asked, 'Who is the president of the United States of America?', but he got a question in return. 'You mean, that band?'. Copy gave up, marked it as a 'stump?', and moved to the next question.
"Todd. What is your… good lord, I can't believe I'm asking this…" Copy-Jamie jerked the paper away, as if burned. Pietro's anticipation blossomed into full-fledged anxiety and he snatched the notebook from the multiple. Jamie gave whine and tried to take it back. He got all of two steps before tripping over his large pants.
Pietro took over the role of interviewer, tucking the pen behind his ear. "What is your favorite Christmas toy? … that's the question you couldn't ask?" Pietro nudged the fallen boy with his foot. Copy rolled to his rear, sitting on the warped floorboards.
"Christmas?! I thought it said… er… something else." The multiple flushed, smacking himself in the head. "Dangit, Kit was right. Too many hormones."
Todd hopped up the stairs, leaving the group in the living room. Wanda was tempted to hex his ass up to the top landing, but decided that Todd would take that as some kind of compliment. There was the sound of several things being knocked over before Todd returned, and carrying a long metal wire. It nearly poked Freddy's eye out.
"THAT is your favorite toy? Man, you got problems, Hoppy." Tabby flicked the end of the wire.
"No, this was my favorite toy, yo. Use ta be a slinky." Tolansky shook the metal cable. "Man, Pietro, your dad can really take all the fun outta a slinky." Dropping the metal wire that in a previous life had been a slinky, Todd looked like he was pouting.
Tabby snatched the pad of paper from Pietro's hands, reading over the last question on the list. "Oh, Wanda, it's for you." Tabby popped her gum. "Squirt wants to know, 'if you could stuff Pietro into any object, what would it be?' Give the kid credit, that is a fun question."
"Traitor!" Pietro hollered.
Wanda's painted lips curled up into a sort of smile. "Well… first I'd stuff him into a box. Then I'd stuff that box into a cannon. Then I'd aim that cannon at a tank full of hungry piranhas." The room fell silent.
"Wa…WANDA!" Pietro looked stricken and horrified.
"But since that involves more than one object, I'd just put him in a closet filled Toad's clothes and Tabby's shoes." Wanda leaned against the wall, trying to imagine her wonderful revenge. Pietro was trying to imagine his 'happy place'.
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Not too far away from the Brotherhood boarding house, Kit was exploring on her own, searching out the Acolytes. Truly, only an idiot would search them out, but then again, Kit has been called worse. Spotting a suspicious-looking black van, Kit has a strange feeling of déjà vu. The van had no windows, save for the windshield and the driver and passenger-side windows. So she leaned in through the passenger window.
"Hi!"
Something that sounded an awful lot like, "Chere! Save m'from d'feat!", was shouted by one of the people in the van. Remy seized Kit by her orange shirt and shook her. "Oi, you not mon Rogue." Kit was dizzy, abused, and pretty sure he was speaking French to her. Nothing ticks Kit off quite like French. So she punched him in the stomach.
"Defeat? Dude, can't you take a loss like a man?" Kit's tail fluffed.
Remy rubbed his abused stomach. "It's not d'loss. It's THE FEET. Johnny took his shoes off, and dey smell. Dey smell bad." The entire group of the Acolytes were holding their noses and Kit winced in sympathy. Sabertooth looked inches away from being ill. Curse his heightened senses. Mastermind was, once again, in his 'happy place', his body limp as his mind tried to escape the stench.
"Wait! Yer Remy!" Kit pointed… out the obvious.
"Oui, and you are a singe." Gambit pointed right back at Kit, using the French word for 'monkey'. Since the entirety of Kit's French vocabulary was 'voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir', it was a good bet that Gambit confused her with his random French lesson of the day. So, of course, Kit could care less and ignored it.
"W33t! I got a question for you from Jamie. He's grounded ya know. Umm, it's… 'Parler vous français?'" [Do you speak French?] She squinted at the page, trying to read both bad writing and a foreign language.
"Y'pronunciation sucks, mon ami." Remy rubbed his head with his finger-less gloves. "Oui. Je parle français." [yes, I speak French.]
"Hey! I'm just the messenger! … and I don't speak French anyway. Full o' cheese, that country." Kit pulled out a notepad from her pocket and scratched the answer down. Remy was almost positive she had just insulted the country, but then again, she had weirder slang that St. John.
In the driver's seat, Colossus was wondering if it was appropriate to start driving really fast with that weird blond hanging in through the window. Sabertooth was wondering if she was a monkey-person, or a person-like-monkey. John was wondering why everyone had their noses covered.
"Kiiiiii~iit!" This was shouted very loud, by with a voice that ranged from gravely to 'choir-boy soprano'. Jamie (perhaps Copy-Jamie #2… they all look alike), was running along the sidewalk and heading straight for Kit. She turned just in time to be tackled and they both went failing into the black van through via the passenger's window. Remy was temporarily squashed as they tumbled over him and landed on the floor. "Thanks for finding them for me! Now I'll ask the questions!"
Kit was mumbling 'The Lion and the Unicorn' poem, sprawled dizzily on the van floor. Jamie, still seated on her back, took the pad of paper from her and began to breeze through the list of questions. Finding where Kit left off, he turned to face Piotr.
"Hey, Peter, can you fit into a Yugo?" Jamie asked, resting the pad of paper on his knees.
Everyone looked over at the massive Russian, trying to figure it out on their own. "No. If the car has a top, I cannot fit into Yugo. Nor a Volkswagen."
St. John raised an eyebrow. "Ya sound like you've tried, mate."
"Da. When I was a boy, I was trying to help a man get his automobile running again. I had to get inside to try to start the car. … It was very hard to get out again." Colossus could have been blushing. Or it could have been the red/orange reflection from Kit's clothes on his face.
Kit's tail flicked, thwapping Jamie in the back of the head. "Ow! … Oh, right." Jamie shuffled over to Mastermind. "Hey, Caterpiller-head! Hey, Fuzzy-Wuzzy!" He prodded the illusionist in the arm. There was no response. "Darn, I'll have to skip him." Jamie pouted, looking back down at the list.
"Johnny, your question!" Jamie announced. St. John spun around to sit in indian-style, awaiting his question eagerly.
Instead of a question though, Jamie reached into Kit's pocket and pulled out a sparkler and her lighter. Applying the two of them together, Jamie held the glittering sparkler up for all to see. John was staring, drool escaping at the corner of his mouth. "FETCH!" Jamie yelled, throwing the sparkler out of the window. Remy was stepped on as St. John Allerdyce dove out the window. "Responds easily to flame. Seems to relax after having set fire. Enjoys seeing others put out flam…er…flaming pants. Rated code five pyromaniac." Jamie winced, watching as an elderly man tried to put out his slacks. John was laughing hysterically, rolling on the cement.
"Remy coulda told you it'd be more than a code three." Gambit was rubbing his new injury. He decided that shotgun wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Opening the door, he reached out and dragged St. John back into the van. The pyro looked very satisfied, like the cat who ate the canary with gray poupon.
Jamie looked over the pad of paper, then out the window. Then he did a double take. "Well, my mission here is done!" He announced, climbing back to his feet. Gambit looked around, and his eyes widened in surprise as he saw Rogue standing at the window, glowering in at him.
"Mon Dieu! What is it wit dis seat? D'you want t'come in t'rough dis window too, chere?" Gambit recovered nicely, waggling his eyebrows at Rogue.
"Only if ya don't give meh Jamie back." Rogue's arms were folded firmly and her fingers twitched to pull her gloves off.
Inside the van, Jamie winced. "Rogue! I'm just a copy! I swear, I'm not breaking my grounding!" He whined. "I'm doing interviews for the original!"
Remy smirked as Rogue leaned into the van to look at the multiple. "Chere. Y'intrested in a kiss from Remy?"
"That depends. Ya interested in a coma?" Gambit had to think about this. While he was thinking, Rogue pulled back and spoke to Madrox. "Com'mon Jamie. Or Copy-Jamie. Or Jamie's identical, twin evil brothah… we're goin' home."
"Ok. My interview is done anway." Jamie, once again, stepped on Gambit and dove out the window. Remy gave a yelp and shot the boy glares.
"What about Sabertooth? You didn't ask him anything." John asked. Jamie looked back into the van at the feral mutant.
"I think he has had enough…" The multiple of Madrox grimaced.
"You don't need your coat AND boots! Give me one! They be cool, daaaa." Kit was clinging to the center of Sabertooth's back in that 'un-itchable' spot. "Com'mon, Catman!" Claws passed right over her, unable to reach where she was hanging.
"Git off! I'll kill you!" Victor snarled.
Copy-Jamie began to worry for the safety of his 'monkey'. After all, she showed up in his room first! His monkey! "Kit! Drop and roll!" Jamie said. Kit fell off Sabertooth's back, rolled in a ball to the front of the van, and sprang out the window with a happy sounding 'daaa'. Remy gave another squeak as Kit's foot just barely missed 'a very sensitive spot'. Remy LaBeau swore to never ride shotgun again. "Thanks guys! See ya!" Copy waved to the Acolytes.
"No you won't Squirt." Rogue sighed, taking his small hand with her soft gloves.
"Wait! One more question for Colossus!" Jamie reached into Kit's pocket (which cause her to yelp in panic), pulling out a magnet that read, 'I Love Tofu'. Leaning into the driver's side window, he then jabbed it onto Colossus' forehead. "We have received an answer!" The magnet stuck.
"Coulda just asked, billy lid. We did that the first week he joined up." St. John said. Jamie was scribbling on the pad of paper hastily. Kit looked torn between taking the magnet back and leaving it there. Colossus remained unmoving, much like a refrigerator.
"Yer goin' ta be in big trouble back home, Squirt. Laundry 'as gone missin', pranks were trapped all ovah, and ya locked Ray in the closet." Rogue glanced around, wondering where the tailed-girl had just vanished too. Copy-Jamie gave her a pleading look. "No, not the puppy-look." Rogue winced. But before she could beg Jamie not to look at her like that, the multiple faded out. The southern mutant looked around, and seeing only the Acolytes, decided to high-tail it back home.
"Remy will see y'later, Chere." A half-gloved hand waved from the window. Rogue gave a finger of her own in salute before heading home. Unknown to Rogue, a card with a phone number written on it was hiding in her back pocket. Oh, she'd have quite a surprise later…
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Upon Copy-Jamie's 'return' to the manor, the original Jamie was grabbed by Logan and dragged into the Sitting Room for a little 'talk'. Probably to do with the way the entire Institute was booby-trapped in under an hour. The room was silent. Logan was staring at Jamie. The young boy had his head bowed so his noir-style hat hid his eyes, and was sitting in the middle of the couch. Kurt, Bobby, and Ray were watching from the doorway. Bobby was eating frozen twinkies… don't ask. Better than the deep-fried variety…
"So, exactly WHAT was it you saw again?" Logan growled.
"I told you! This girl with weird hair and a monkey tail comes into my room from under my bed and tells me stories!" Jamie rolled his eyes. "She was the one who booby- trapped the house, before she left to find my …eh… find someone."
"Don't you roll your eyes at me, Squirt! You're still in trouble for taking Fuzzy's book and Popsicle's… pants, from before." Logan kept his arms crossed, staring down at the boy in interrogation style.
Ray frowned. "Don't forget he locked me in my own closet! AND he made off with my hair dye after that."
"But I didn't do that! I'm telling you the truth! The Monke--eeEEAAARRGG!" This disturbance was caused by the strange, tailed girl sitting on the end table, and eating someone's frozen Twinkies while they weren't looking. Kit was trying to gnaw through the yellow, preservative-enriched sweets. Jamie had no clue where she came from and was even more baffled how she ended up on the table. As everyone turned to see what Jamie was flailing about at, Kit fell off the table and rolled ungracefully behind a chair.
Kurt saw nothing. "Ok, I'm zhinking Jamie is going crazy now."
"She was just there! She ate Bobby's snack!" Jamie pointed behind the chair.
Bobby looked at the table where his frozen dessert had been resting and gasped. "Dang it, Jamie! It was funny when you thought you were seeing things, but you have to draw the line at eating my desert!"
Jamie gave Bobby a flat stare. "How could I have eaten your snack if I'm way over here, doof." Jamie folded his arms in his 'victory'.
"Multiples." Everyone said. Jamie frowned. Oh yeah, he forgot about them. But this wasn't his multiples! This was that Kit-person! Seeing no other choice, Jamie threw himself off the sofa and over the chair in a kamikaze attack.
WHUD! "OW! My tail!" Direct hit. About a dozen Jamie's were sitting on a very squashed looking Kit. "And my spine and head and internal organs…that Twinkie I just ate… erk."
"Holy Moley! Jamie vas right! Zhere is a monkey-person running around here!" Kurt stepped back in panic. Usually, this is proper behavior when meeting Kit. That and keeping your hands firmly over your wallet and spare change. But when said monkey-person is being squashed under a dozen 14-year-olds, your wallet is pretty well safe.
"Lungs… compressing." Kit wheezed. Jamie suddenly realized that breathing was probably important and began to command his copies to get off the dog pile. Logan scratched his chin in confusion on how Jamie's 'imaginary weird friend' got into the institute. And also pondering why she was holding a pair of what appeared to be Evan's pants.
"Sure, you can take my pants. And you can take Kurt's pants. And you can even take Evan's pants. But when you take my Twinkies, there is NO MERCY!" Iceman slammed his fist onto the table that once held his snacks. "We have to keep the Institute safe for both pant and snack! WHO'S WITH ME!"
The room was dead silent. Utterly.
"Uh… sorry. Guess I went overboard there."
More silence. Utter silence. If your brain hasn't exploded, it has by now. Feel free to run around screaming.
Kit raised her hand. "Can I go home now?"
"No." Wolverine was still standing close enough to the girl to grab her if she should make a break for it. In other words, he was looming over her shoulder.
"Gee, doesn't this sound familiar." Kit mumbled.
"What was that, monkey?" Logan leaned in, growling.
"Eep! I… uh… I said… ESCAPE PLAN BETA!" Kit shouted on the top of her lungs, which is actually surprisingly loud. Logan was temporarily deafened. In response to her yell, all of Jamie's multiples broke into the savage dance. Kit jumped from the chair, ran across the room and threw herself out the window while waving Evan's pants like a flag. No one could get across the room to stop her with all of the multiples in the way, but the real question was, did the want to stop that miniature maniac? Could anything stop her?!
"Hey! A penny!" Kit skid to a stop, spotting change on the ground. Ok, let us rephrase that. Could anything thing besides money stop her?! After grabbing the penny, Kit resumed her flight to freedom. Well, she wasn't actually flying. It's metaphorical, people! As Kit jumped the final gate to the school's ground, Jamie began to softly sing 'Born Free', wiping an imaginary tear from his eyes.
Kurt was staring out the window with a look of perplexity. "Jamie, vhere does she go after she leaves?"
Jamie watched for a bit, thinking. "I dunno. I asked once and she told me she lived in a parallel dimension with an alternative anthropocentric society. I think she means Cleveland or something…" Bobby nodded. Cleveland… it was so strange.
Logan turned and left the room while the boys were still pondering. This was too weird to tell Chuck. He'd just tell the man they had an infestation of really big rats or something. "We're gonna need bigger rat traps." The man rumbled.
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His journal pulled out, Jamie was writing a few notes in today's section. Mostly about the questions and answers he received from his investigative undercover interviews. He wondered if Kit accepted any of his 'stumps' he scored. Therefore, Kit owed him… something cool. There was a knock at the door. Jamie stuffed the journal under his blankets and pulled out his megaphone. "COME IN!!" He whispered into the microphone. His voice was amplified and he barely made out a yelp from the other side of the door.
"Sheez, Jamie, vhere did you get zhat microphone?" Kurt winced, rubbing his ears.
Jamie clicked the device back off, setting it down. "Kit gave it too me!" At the name, Kurt shuddered. "What? You don't like her?"
"Aaah, Sie ist serh, guhh… She is certainly…" Kurt stammered. Judging by what Jamie said, Kit had the tendency to show up when she felt like it, WHERE she felt like it.
"Insane?"
"Ja."
"Get used to it." Jamie pulled out the airhorn, grinning widely. Kurt's gold eyes widened at the sight. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have revenge to plan. WHOAHAHAHAAAAA!" BAMF, and Kurt was gone. "Wow, that was fast." Pulling the leather book back out, Jamie flipped to the page he left off at. Preparing to write, Madrox pauses as he sees a strange script at the bottom of the page.
'So, if Jamie is reading this, THIS IS A MESSAGE OF JOY! If anyone else is reading this, THIS IS A DOOOOOM MESSAGE! Hey, Squirt. Sorry to run like that. Call it my 'irrational fear of Canadians'. I found your notebook from the interviews, too. Sorry, but I don't accept Mastermind's lack of answer as a 'stump'. And Tabby DID know the names of the Presidents of the United States of America… just not THE president. Ya shoulda been specific. No stump for you!'
"Awww! No fair." Jamie whined. Then he continued to read.
'But your work with Ray, GENIUS! I give you a gold 'stump' award! Check under your bed for your prize, my brother!' Giving a cheer, Jamie dropped the book and looked under his bed. A shoebox was shoved under his blankets. Levering the box out, Jamie opened it carefully.
Wedged in the box were six cans of silly string, a spare garage door opener, a fake rubber rat, and a note to 'go nuts, Squirt'. Jamie began laughing. "BWHAHAHAHAAAA-HAHAHAAA!" Jamie was laughing hysterically. In the girl's wing, Amara yelled for 'SILENCE', and in the boy's wing, Kurt shuddered. From the den, Rahne began to howl, much like a dog when it hears the emergency broadcast alarms wailing.
At the very bottom of the page, Kit finished up the entry earlier. 'And then, let the mischief of Madrox be unleashed upon the world! And it was good. HAHAHAHHAAA! XD
Jamie Madrox's keeper (KIT)'