Getting Down in Motown
"Ohhh," Mastermind groaned painfully and slowly rubbed his head. "Good gosh, what the heck was I drinking?"
"Hey, he's awake," A familiar voice broke through his daze.
"Huh?" Mastermind blinked and recognized the other four Acolytes looking at him. "Ugh, what happened?"
"Don't you remember?" Pyro asked.
"I don't remember anything," Mastermind winced while waiting for his vision to stop spinning. "Which is still more than I can say about you!"
"You were hit on the head by a flying cello soon after we arrived here," Piotr told him.
"A what?!" Mastermind gasped sitting up. He saw he had been lying on the floor of a small concrete basement. "When and where exactly is here?"
"Take a look," Remy bent down to show him one of the machine's screens. It read:
July 30, 1975 A.D.
Detroit, Michigan
"Okay," Mastermind studied the readout. "That answers that question. But where did the flying cello come from?"
"From one of the drug gangs the machine dumped us in the middle of," Sabertooth growled.
"WHAT?!" Mastermind yelped and frantically looked around. "WHERE?!"
"Relax, it wasn't here," Remy waved. "It was in some other part of the city."
"The cello must have hit you really hard," Piotr bent down and checked Mastermind's head carefully. "You have been unconscious for almost an hour."
"Yeah, you missed all the excitement," Pyro chirped while still wearing his makeshift straitjacket. "We had a lot of fun!"
"If you consider fights, shootouts and nearly dying by car crashes fun," Remy gave him a look.
"Well yeah," Sabertooth grunted. "Who wouldn't?"
"Wait, what?" Mastermind blinked in confusion. "Would somebody tell me what the heck you are taking about?"
"Sorry. Let us start from the beginning," Piotr began. "The machine dropped us off in the middle of a large warehouse in another part of the city."
"A warehouse where a couple of gangs were meeting to divvy up a shipment of illegal drugs," Remy explained. "Not that we knew that at the time."
"Yeah, all we knew was that we'd landed in the middle of dozens of weirdly-dressed blokes all who were leveling Uzis and sawed-off shotguns at us," Pyro said.
"O-kay," Mastermind blinked.
"We kinda acted on instinct after that," Remy grinned wickedly. "Those dumb punks never stood a chance."
"There were bullets and blood and bodies flying all over the place!" Pyro said excitedly. "I couldn't do much so I hid with you until I spotted one drug loser puffing on a cigarette.
"Oh no," Mastermind groaned.
"Oh yeah," Remy nodded. "You don't need us to tell you what happened then!"
Flashback...
"HAHAHAHAHA!" Pyro cackled maniacally as the whole place erupted into flames. "YEAH! YEAH!"
"AAAGGGHHHHHH!" Gang members screamed like little girls while running around like chickens with their heads cut off.
Meanwhile, outside the warehouse...
"I hate living in this dump," A young, teenage Edward Kelly grumbled walking down the sidewalk while lugging a large cello case. He wore a pair of tan slacks, white polo shirt, thick glasses and had a slight case of acne. "This city stinks!"
"Now that's enough of that," Kelly's father rumbled while walking slightly ahead of him. He looked like a grown-up version of Kelly except with a rounder belly and more prominent bald spot. "Detroit is known as the Paris of the Midwest. These cello lessons you're taking are going to pay off some day, just you wait."
"Yes, but the school system here is on the decline," Kelly's mother noted walking next to him. She was a short, thin woman with blue eyes and light hair. "Maybe we should consider my brother's offer and move closer to him. There are plenty of excellent private schools on the East Coast.
"Fine by me," Kelly muttered. "The schools here are filled with nothing but oddballs and weirdos. Not surprising since the whole city is going down the tubes!"
"Nonsense, son," Kelly's father scoffed arrogantly. "Okay, the city may be having a few problems, but they are nothing we solid, middle class citizens have to worry about."
FA-WOOOOOOM!
"AAAHHHHHH!" The Kellys screamed as the warehouse next to them suddenly erupted into flames.
CRASH!
"Aggghhhhhh!" Kelly's mother shrieked as a flying gang member crashed through one of the walls and landed on her. "WAAAHHH! GET OFF! GET OFF!"
"Take this you hooligan!" Kelly's father grabbed his cello case and began beating the gang member with it.
"OW! OW! OW! OW! OW!" The gang member wailed and ran off.
"Cretin!" Kelly's father screamed at threw the broken cello case after him with a surprising amount of strength. Unfortunately, his aim was off so the open cello case flew into the burning warehouse instead.
"My cello!" Kelly cried.
"Forget your cello! Run!" Kelly's father roared picking up his wife and ran down the street. "HELP! POLICE!"
"Hey, wait for me!" Kelly yelped running after him.
Now...
"That was when you were hit on the head by the flying cello," Piotr supplied. "One of the gang members must have come straight from a music lesson or something."
"Or something," Mastermind moaned.
"Anyway, Piotr managed to tackle Pyro and distract him long enough for all the fires to dissipate," Remy went on. "The warehouse hadn't burned up too badly and all the gang members had either been knocked out, passed out or run for their lives."
"Those who still had lives," Sabertooth growled darkly.
"We found a large stash of heroin and other drugs the gangs had waiting nearby," Remy wiggled his fingers. "So we blew it all up and tied the remaining gang members from the remains of the ceiling in their underwear."
"Those of them who wore underwear," Piotr winced at the memory.
"Yeah, that was our good deed for the day," Pyro said proudly. "Yay, us!"
"O-kay," Mastermind blinked. "I admit I am glad I missed the fight. So things were quiet after that?"
"Yeah, for about ten seconds," Remy confirmed. "That's when the Mafia showed up."
"WHAT?!" Mastermind yelped.
"Yeah, the drug gangs must have been either stealing from the Mob or cutting into their profits or something," Remy shrugged. "Three vans full of goons pulled up and entered the place armed for bear."
"We decided we did not want to get into another fight there," Piotr explained. "We did not want to risk having any stray bullets strike and damage the machine."
"Good idea," Mastermind gulped at the thought.
"So we grabbed you and hightailed it out of there fast," Remy continued. "But not before some of the mobsters spotted us."
"You were running through the streets of Detroit from the Mob?" Mastermind gasped.
"Well, not exactly running," Piotr sighed.
Flashback...
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" Piotr yelped as the Acolytes tore down the street while crammed into a beat-up 1970 Pontiac GTO. "SLOW DOWN! SLOW DOWN!"
"SPEED UP! SPEED UP!" Pyro cackled squashed up next to him.
"BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP AND LET ME DRIVE!" Sabertooth snapped while gripping the steering wheel. "Don't make me reach back there!"
"They're still after us!" Remy noted the Mob's vans gaining on them.
"Not for long!" Sabertooth gunned the engine before performing a perfect bootlegger's turn.
"Ohhh," Piotr moaned as only two wheels touched the road. "I am going to be sick!"
"I'm gonna die!" Remy paled.
"STOP WHINING ABOUT DYING OR I'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO DIE ABOUT!" Sabertooth roared. "DO YOU WANT ME TO PULL THIS CAR OVER?!"
"I wish you would!" Piotr yelped as Sabertooth shot down a one-way street. "You are going to kill us all you maniac!"
"And I thought Pyro was nuts!" Remy moaned.
"YEAH! YEAH!" Pyro laughed maniacally.
"Uh oh," Piotr gulped as a Mob van appeared in front of them set on a collision course. "This is not good!"
"You wanna play chicken, punk? Let's do it!" Sabertooth grinned and stomped on the accelerator.
"Mother," Remy whimpered.
Meanwhile, nearby...
"I don't believe it!" Kelly's father gasped while carefully driving down the road. All three Kellys were in their 1973 Ford Pinto. "A mugging attempt in broad daylight! What is this city coming to?"
"I told you!" Kelly whined from the back seat. "This city is full of weirdos!"
"That ruffian messed up my hair!" Kelly's mother wailed. "And I just had it done in a wedge!"
"Alright, settle down!" Kelly's father ordered. "We're safe now and are going home. Nothing more to worry about..."
VVVRRROOOOOOOOOMMM!
The Acolyte's stolen GTO reared up alongside one of the Mob's vans having crashed into each other. The two stuck vehicles ran over the Kellys' car before disappearing down the street.
"AAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE!" The terrified Kellys shrieked.
CRASH!
SMASH!
BOOM!
"Ohhh," Kelly warbled as the ruined car lay crumpled in front of a parked garbage truck, its grill and top crushed beyond all recognition.
"MY CAR!" Kelly's father yelped at the damage. "MY ONE TRUE LOVE!"
"WHAT?!" Kelly's mother screamed.
"I hate my life," Kelly moaned.
Now...
"We ran over ten cars, two mail boxes and a school bus during that trip," Remy shuddered at the memory. "We didn't hear any ambulances afterward so nobody in them was hurt. I think."
"I don't believe it," Mastermind was stunned at the retelling. "I did not know Sabertooth was that bad a driver."
"Whaddya talking about? I'm a great driver!" Sabertooth snapped. "We lost the Mob, didn't we?"
"We also lost a few years from our lives," Piotr groaned. "Not to mention both bumpers and half the hood!"
"I told you, the brake lines on that GTO were shoddy!" Sabertooth growled defensively. "Figures those stupid gang punks wouldn't bother to take care of a classic car like that. And it was kinda hard to control while being stuck to a whole 'nother car!"
"Anyway," Remy rolled his eyes and turned back to Mastermind. "Sabes managed to shake free of the Mob van right before crashing into a building. So we sprung you from the trunk and prepared to take off before the cops showed up."
"You had me in the trunk?!" Mastermind yelped.
"Well what else were we supposed to do?" Pyro gave him a look. "Strap you to the roof? That car was cramped!"
"Not to mention disgusting," Piotr sniffed. "I still smell like cigarettes."
"Okay, fine. So what happened then?" Mastermind asked.
"We were suddenly assaulted by a display of blinding lights and flashy noise," Remy continued. "We thought were being shot at until we realized we had crashed into the middle of a large 24 hour discotheque."
"It was wild!" Pyro giggled. "There were lights and sounds and people everywhere! And they were dressed really funny!"
"Unfortunately, they were also a little upset at us for landing right in the middle of their dance floor," Piotr sighed. "And at me for accidentally knocking down their disco ball."
"Have you ever been kicked by a guy wearing four inch platforms?" Sabertooth grunted rubbing his side. "It's even worse than wearing them! Er, not that I'd know anything about that."
"This is even more ridiculous than the first time we went to a clothing store," Mastermind blinked. "I suppose you then wiped the floor with all the fanatic disco dancers?"
"Not exactly," Remy coughed. "Piotr and I were still shaken from Sabes' lack of driving skills. So we grabbed you and ran out the back looking for a place to hide."
"We ended up sneaking into the back of a nice restaurant down the block," Piotr continued. "Which happened to be catering to a local meeting of FFOOM."
"FFOOM?" Mastermind looked confused.
"First Feminist Organization Of Michigan," Pyro chirped. "They had a big banner in the back. And on their cakes."
"Guess how they reacted when they saw four guys crash in from the back carrying an unconscious woman," Sabertooth smirked.
"Woman?" Mastermind frowned. "What woma...wait a second...they were referring to me?!"
"Yep," Remy grinned as Mastermind sputtered in indignation.
"To be fair, your face was turned away from them," Piotr tried not to smile. "And from your body size they just presumed..."
"Never mind!" Mastermind snapped. "This is so humiliating!"
"Look at it this way, Masty," Pyro giggled. "You can still create illusions even when you're knocked out."
"Shut up Pyro!" Mastermind hissed. "I hope those feminists beat you all bloody!"
"Oh, they tried, believe me," Remy indicated several new tears in his trench coat. "I didn't know restaurants carried those kinds of knives!"
"They threw glasses at me," Piotr winced.
"They threw mini-cheesecakes at me," Pyro licked his lips.
"They tore at my hair!" Sabertooth grumbled. "Couldn't stand it being brighter and silkier than theirs. Jealous, the lot of them!"
"That's when the crowd of disco dancers caught up and stormed the restaurant," Remy said. "Then things got really messy!"
"I don't believe it," Mastermind shook his head. "Wait a second, yes I do!"
"It was crazy!" Pyro recalled. "We were lucky to get outta there with our lives!"
"The feminists were already climbing into their cars so they could try running us over in the street," Remy went on. "We needed to get away from them fast. Fortunately, the restaurant happened to be right next to a fire station and..."
"Oh no," Mastermind blanched. "You didn't..."
"Oh yeah," Sabertooth groaned. "We did..."
Flashback...
"I ca not believe we just stole a fire engine!" Piotr held onto a ladder for dear life.
"I can't believe it's being driven by Pyro!" Remy yelped in fear.
"HAHAHAHAHA!" Pyro laughed insanely as the enormous fire engine roared down the street destroying everything in its path. "YEAH! YEAH!"
"How is he managing to steer this thing without hands?" Remy cried as the engine spun around a corner. "He's still tied up!"
"I do not think we want to know!" Piotr blanched. "Look out for the street light!"
"YOU CRAZY FIREBUG!" Sabertooth howled from where he was plastered to the roof of the cab. "GET OFF THE SIDEWALK! NO DON'T POP A WHEELIE! AAAHHHHHH!"
"Talk about payback," Remy gasped at Sabertooth's cries. "I'd enjoy it a lot more if I wasn't suffering along with him!"
"I would enjoy it if we managed to lose them!" Piotr indicated the fleet of cars driven by angry feminists and disco dancers chasing after them with fire in their eyes. "Those people are nuts!"
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
"Oh great! The Mob's caught back up with us!" Remy shouted as a convoy of vans appeared in front of them and opened fire.
"They are not the only ones!" Piotr gulped as a squad of muscle cars chased after them packed with gun-toting gang members.
"HAS EVERYBODY IN THIS CITY GONE CRAZY?!" Sabertooth cried as bullets whizzed around them.
"SHORTCUT TIME!" Pyro threw the fire engine into reverse.
"They will have once Pyro is finished with them!" Remy moaned.
Meanwhile, nearby...
"Thanks goodness!" Kelly's father staggered through the front door of a nice, suburban family house. The Kellys' poor wreck of a car sat in the driveway having run fairly well despite its derelict appearance. "Home at last!"
"Finally!" Kelly stumbled in after him. "I am going to my room and never coming back out!"
"I still say you should take the car into the shop now," Kelly's mother shot her husband a cold look. "It being your 'true love' and all."
"Later," Kelly's father sighed plopping down into his favorite easy chair. "After this nightmare all I want to do is lie down and..."
HOOONNNKKK! HOOONNNKKK!
"YAAAHHHOOOOOOOOO!" An enormous fire engine roared backward down the street before jumping the curb and smashing straight into the house.
KA-BLAMMM!
"GAAAHHHHHH!" The Kellys yelled and took cover as the engine tore through the walls of the house like tissue paper.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
Gunshots rang from a trio of vans as they chased after it.
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The Kellys screamed in panic.
"GET THEM!" Several cars driven by very angry women followed after them.
"FOLLOW THOSE FUNKY PARTY CRASHERS!" More cars roared by with occupants sporting large afros.
SMASH!
A squad of muscle cars brought up the rear while running over everything in their path.
The Kellys cowered in shock at the pile of rumble their once neat house had been reduced to. "My room," Kelly finally managed to get out.
"Our home!" Kelly's mother blubbered. "Our beautiful home!"
"THAT'S IT!" Kelly's father shouted. "This place is nuts! We're not staying here anymore! Honey, call your brother. Tell him we're taking his offer to move after all!"
"Really?" Kelly managed to get out. "It is about time!"
"But our things," Kelly's mother gazed longingly at the wreckage.
"Forget our things! Insurance will pay for it all!" Kelly's father snapped. "Heck I don't care if we don't get a dime for it. We're leaving and that's final!"
"Yay! No more madness!" Kelly cheered. "But where are we going to move to?"
"To New York state, son," Kelly's father said with determination. "Outside a quiet little town called Bayville!"
Now...
"Pyro finally ended up turning on our pursuers causing them all to crash into each other," Remy wrapped up the tale. "Last we saw them the disco dancers were beating up the gang members and the feminists were wailing on the Mob."
"Why am I not surprised?" Mastermind groaned.
"Pyro also ended the trip by crashing the fire engine into a drug store," Piotr sighed. "Everyone was fleeing the scene so we took the opportunity to stock up on supplies."
"Supplies?" Mastermind looked at them hopefully. "You mean like bandages, water bottles, emergency blankets and aspirin?"
"Nope, even better," Pyro grinned as Remy pulled something out of his trench coat. "Toilet paper!"
"Toilet paper?" Mastermind stared at the compressed roll in shock.
"Hey, you really want to keep using whatever the locals are using in various time periods?" Remy gave him a look.
"You have a point," Mastermind admitted. "That toilet paper is going to be worth its weight in gold!"
"We...borrowed...some other stuff too," Piotr sighed apologetically. "More soap, socks, underwear, foot cream..."
"Foot cream?" Mastermind blinked in confusion.
"I got sensitive feet, okay?" Sabertooth growled dangerously. "Got a problem with that?"
"Uh, no. Not at all," Mastermind gulped.
"Anyway, we left the drug store right before the cops arrived," Remy continued. "We ran a block before ducking into the basement of this old church."
"We're in a church?" Mastermind repeated.
"It seemed like a good place to hide from the cops," Remy shrugged. "And it's a good place to hide our latest cache of souvenirs."
"We were in the middle of putting all our souvenirs in the safe when you woke up," Piotr added.
"Safe?" Mastermind stared at the large, fireproof safe sitting in front of a hole Remy had made in the floor using his powers. "Where the heck did you pick up that?"
"From the drug store, duh," Pyro gave him a look. "You'd be amazed at what you can find in them."
"Of course," Mastermind groaned.
"Okay, let's see what we got," Remy began checking over their pickings. "There's the money from all the bets we won from the Congress fight in Washington, a piece of paper from a copy of the Treaty of Versailles, Einstein's pencil, that Duke homme's autograph..."
"Here's my stuff," Sabertooth grunted setting his items in the safe. "A 3rd Canadian division insignia I ripped off my old uniform, one of that drunken Khan's drinking cups, a ring I nabbed from Peter the Great, Alexander the Great's diadem, and a pair of earrings from that lady who kept calling me Vlad."
"Ooo, nice," Remy nodded in appreciation.
"Don't forget my stuff!" Pyro chirped as Piotr helped retrieve them from underneath the makeshift straitjacket. "A collection of Poe's unpublished poems and short stories, some Skylab patches, my share of the bet money..."
"Ha, kid's stuff," Remy scoffed.
"And a locket I swiped from that bloke Sabes knocked out with my stuffed peacock with a portrait of that white-stripped shelia in it," Pyro finished as Piotr pulled it out. "Isn't it pretty?"
"MINE!" Remy lunged at it.
"Hey, give that back!" Pyro pouted. "I'm the one who pinched it and..."
"It's mine!" Remy grasped the locket protectively. "Mine, you hear me? MINE!"
"But..." Pyro began.
"Oh, just let him keep the stupid locket," Mastermind sighed. "It will save us a lot of trouble in the long run."
"Aw, fine," Pyro gave in. "But you owe me for this one, Gambit!"
"Whatever," Remy stared at the portrait and began stroking it lovingly. "My chérie...my lovely, fair chérie..."
"Snap out of it Cajun and finish locking up our stuff," Sabertooth shouted.
"Huh? Oh yeah," Remy began to do so.
"Wait! Don't forget our gold collars and the set of jewels we found in Ireland," Pyro piped up.
"How could I forget?" Remy collected them all and locked them up.
"Are you sure this is a good place to hide the safe?" Piotr asked as he lowered it into the hole.
"Of course," Remy said as he sealed up the hole and secretly marked the spot. "Nobody is going to search or knock down a perfectly good church."
"Unlike every other building in this town," Sabertooth quipped.
"If you say so," Piotr shrugged. "I am glad I was able to find some pencils and a new sketchbook at the drug store...hmmm, that is strange. They are not here. I must have dropped them."
"Too bad," Pyro said. "Sorry to hear that, mate."
"I am going to see if I can find them in the alley," Piotr headed for the door.
"Okay, but be careful," Remy warned as he left.
"Well at least someone is trying to be careful on this trip," Mastermind winced and held his head.
"Can we use the machine now?" Pyro asked.
"Yeah, it's all finished cooling down," Remy glanced at one of the screens. "When Piotr gets back we're outta here."
"But are we sure we want to risk it?" Mastermind paused and thought for a moment. "This is the closest we have gotten to being back in our own time."
"What, you wanna stick around for the next twenty five years or so until we are all caught back up?" Remy gave him a look. "Sabes probably wouldn't mind that much, but the rest of us sure would."
"You're telling me," Pyro agreed. "I haven't even been born yet!"
"The one good thing around being in this time," Sabertooth quipped.
"I guess you are right," Mastermind sighed. "Better to risk another time jump than having twenty five years to mess up the future."
CRASH!
"Not that it would make much of a difference," Mastermind groaned.
"Uh oh," Pyro gulped. "That didn't sound good."
"So much for being careful," Sabertooth growled as the Acolytes ran out of the church.
"Oh man," Remy whistled at the car lying in the middle of the alley with a large Piotr-shaped dent in the front. "What did you do?"
"Nothing. It was an accident," Piotr stood in front of the car in his armored form. "I was looking for my sketchbook when I spotted the car heading toward me and..."
"I get the picture," Remy held up a hand.
"Oooh," A nondescript man moaned from the back seat of the car. The driver had been knocked out upon impact. "Mommy?" The man blinked at Piotr's armored form for a moment right before passing out.
"Well, at least we don't have to worry about witnesses," Pyro quipped.
"Ohhh," One of the car's back doors opened and an older man built like a fireplug tumbled out of it. He had dark, slicked-back hair, sharp eyes and was wearing a nice, dark blue suit. "What happened? Who are you people?"
"You spoke too soon," Mastermind gave Pyro a look.
"Who cares? Let's get outta here," Sabertooth snorted at Remy. "That guy will just think we're a concussion-based delusion or something."
"Right. Here we go," Remy prepared to activate the machine.
"Hey, what are you doing?" The man snapped and stumbled toward the mutants in annoyance. "Don't you know who I am? I'm Jimmy Hoffa! Don't you dare ignore me!"
"Wait. Did he just say...?" Mastermind began.
"Who cares? Too late now," Remy said right before the machine whisked them away.
"Gahhh!" Pyro yelped and staggered at the hot, humid air slapping in the face.
"Whoa, what a trip," Remy blinked dazedly while struggling to stay on his feet. "I feel kinda light-headed."
"Me too," Piotr saw they were surrounded by a forest of towering conifer trees. "What is this place?"
"No place I want to be!" Mastermind spat out a mouthful of ferns. "Another uncivilized wilderness!"
"Ah shaddap ya wimp," Sabertooth snorted taking several deep breaths. "This is really living!"
"Yahhh! Oh geeze, what's happening? Will somebody tell me what the heck's going on here?"
"Huh?" Piotr turned and stared at the sight of Jimmy Hoffa standing with them. "Oh dear."
"This, this could be a problem," Remy blinked.
Historical note: James "Jimmy" Riddle Hoffa was an American labor union leader of the International Brotherhood of Teamsters from 1958 A.D. to 1971 A.D., at the time the largest labor union in the United States. His legacy is controversial having been convicted of jury tampering, attempted bribery, fraud and ties to organized crime as well as being a civil rights supporter and champion of workers and their families. Hoffa was last seen outside the Machus Red Fox Restaurant before disappearing without a trace. While various theories have been proposed over the years, the exact cause of his disappearance has never "officially" been determined.