*there's sex in this chapter.

November, 1997

"Where are you two off to?" Logan asked. He was standing on the back patio next to Kurt, who was seated on a folding chair to face the sun. It was a chilly day, but the sun was bright.

"I got t'go inta town to see a man about a horse," Remy told him from the backyard where he stood in the grass.

Rogue was standing beside him, dressed in a bright pink puffer coat, a knit headband covering her ears, and winter gloves on her hands. A travel mug of hot coffee was in her hand. Apparently, they were sharing it, because Remy took it from her, took a sip, and grimaced at its over-sweetness. Remy had a knit cap squashed down on his head, but his long coat hung open over a tee shirt and worn jeans.

"A haws?" Logan repeated.

Remy shot him an annoyed look. "How d'you say it, then?"

"Horse."

"Whores? Mon frère, we talkin' 'bout two different kinds a rides, I think."

Kurt put a hand over his face, but he was laughing.

"Okay, not a whores, then," Remy admitted. "Maybe just a pony."

"Kid, you gonna start makin' sense any time soon?"

"Barber's gonna lop off his locks," Rogue said, she pouted a little, took Remy's ponytail in her hand. "Though how we'll rein him in after-."

"Very funny," Remy said and extricated his hair from her grip. "Long past time for a haircut. I'm startin' t'look like a relic outta de 80s."

"Ah liked the 80s," Rogue insisted.

"You'da been in diapers for most of it, darlin'," Logan said.

"Ah like the music!" Rogue announced and sang: "'Come home... in the morning light, mah mama says: "When you gonna live your life ri-i-hight?'" She performed a little dance to go along with the lyrics.

"That's cute chère, show me dat again," Remy said.

Rogue performed her dance once more, with an exaggerated shake of her hips. "You gotta have hips to do moves like this, sugah! And you barely have a butt t'sit on!"

"Dis is de first complaint I've heard about my butt," Remy observed, fished his sunglasses out of his coat pocket and shoved them onto his face.

"Oh mama dear, we're not the fort-un-ate ones...And girls, they wanna have fu-unn...O-oh girls just wanna have fuhnn!" Rogue was heading towards the path to town, arms outspread and sashaying across the lawn.

"D'you think maybe I'm a bad influence?" Remy asked the other two men while scratching his chin. He deposited the coffee mug on the patio railing.

"I think Rogue seems very happy, and how could that be a bad thing?" Kurt asked, shrugging.

"Ya comin'?" Rogue called. "C'mon, Remy, pick up the pace. We don't got all day!"

Remy touched two fingers to his forehead and saluted Kurt and Logan. Very lazily he turned on his heel and sauntered after Rogue. "Chère, ain't you ever heard of stoppin' t'smell de roses?"

"It's nearly winter, sugah, there's not a rose to be sniffed."

He continued his ambling pace, watching Rogue's bottom as she bopped along. "I'm just appreciatin' de view!"

"Ah know a view you'll like!" Rogue announced, turned, and advanced on him. Too late, he realized she was flying in his direction.

"Aagh! Put me down!"

"How's the view from up here?" Rogue asked, having seized him under his arms and lifted him skyward. "Wave bye-bye to Logan and Kurt now!"

"He-elp!"

"Quit squirmin', Remy," Rogue told him and wrapped her arms more securely around his chest. "You don't want me to drop you, do ya?"

Now squashed against Rogue's chest, Remy quit flailing. "Well, I guess this ain't too bad," he admitted. "Pretty cold though."

"You coulda buttoned yourself up!" She flew just over the treetops, causing several birds to take flight. Just after the woods, she set Remy on his feet and touched down beside him. His face was bright red from the wind and cold. "Maybe you could use a scarf too."

"Should probably buy some warmer clothes, if I'm gonna stay in dis freezin' cold climate."

Rogue smiled broadly, looking pleased, and took his arm. "C'mon, Ah'll show you to the salon."

"Don't let Logan know where you're takin' me, I'll never hear de end of it."

They walked down one of the red-brick sidewalks in Salem Center. There was a cluster of shops including a pharmacy, bank, a diner. A small salon/barbershop with a blue, red and white pole hung on the brick facade out front was named Stan's 'Shop & Salon. Rogue opened the door and gestured for Remy to precede her. The shop had just opened, so they were the first walk-in customers.

The barber, an older man with large glasses, a ready smile, and a head of silver and gray hair and moustache to match, seemed hesitant when Remy pulled his hat from his head. "This is...a lot of hair, son. You sure you don't want to see one of our stylists?"

"Nah," Remy said, sitting in the barber's chair. "S'fine. Have at it."

The barber regarded Remy's reflection in the mirror. "Well...all right then. Do you think you can take off your shades, friend?"

Remy frowned and glanced over at Rogue. "Sure," he said, removing his sunglasses. His eyes remained closed. "Okay."

"Are you afraid to watch?" the barber joked.

"Something like that. She can be my eyes," Remy said, waving in Rogue's direction.

"Seems like he's putting a lot of faith in you, young lady," the barber said, raising his eyebrows at her. "We've got a true believer here."

Rogue cringed a bit, shrugged her shoulders. "Are you sure, Remy?" she asked.

The barber draped a red cape over Remy's shoulders. The barber laughed a bit. "If I had our stylist make you blond, you'd look like the Mighty Thor!"

"More of a Loki, me. Make wit' de shears already, before I lose my nerve," Remy ordered, raising a finger and pointing skyward.

The barber sighed and shook his head with a grin. "How's this length look, my dear?" he asked Rogue, positioning the scissors at the nape of Remy's neck.

"Uhm, a little shorter Ah think. No, that's too short! Yes, okay...there," Rogue guessed.

"I think I might need to get my hedge clippers," the barber said to himself and applied his scissors just above the tie holding Remy's hair back from his face. After much sawing of shears, he announced: "There you go, the deed is done."

Remy put his shades back on his face and regarded his reflection. "O-oh, well...my poppa's not gonna like this."

The barber chuckled. "Your pop an aging hippy?" he asked. "Got quite a few relics from Woodstock 'round these parts, and their little flower children."

Remy fingered the ends of his shorn hair, now curling around his jawline. "Almost cut my hair. Happened just de other day. It's gettin' kind of long...I could've said it was in my way."

The barber patted Remy's shoulders. "Doesn't look like you almost cut your hair, looks like you actually did."

"Technically, you did," Remy told him.

"Take those shades off again, young man," the barber instructed. "We'll get you neatened up a bit and then you can get out of the hot seat."

Remy obeyed the man's instructions and was doused with mist from a spray bottle.

"We'll have you straightened out for Turkey Day tomorrow…" the barber began and chuckled. "At least I hope I will. Think this job may require overtime!"

"I promise I'm a good tipper," Remy said, momentarily hidden from view as the barber combed his hair forward with a black comb. He peeked out at Rogue while the barber worked. She looked nervous and was chewing her lip. He grinned and winked at her. Rogue smiled back.

"Don't look too bad," she admitted.

"High praise!" Remy replied, closed his eyes again.

The barber brushed the clippings from Remy's shoulders, then looked at the floor. "If I cut any more off, I'm going to have to get a second rubbish bin. Anyway...how about a shave then?"

"No!" Rogue said and Remy laughed.

He put his sunglasses back on, considered his new do. "Got a devil's haircut, in my mind! But, it looks like it might be standin' on end," he observed, and tried to flatten the flyaway locks. In any case, he looked like a Guild thief no more.

"Might be that your head's in shock," Rogue said.

"Lookin' good, young man," the barber announced. "When you're given a great head of hair, like mine, might as well flaunt it! It's a gift!"

Remy smiled and stood when the barber swished off the cape. "Thank you, sir," he said and removed his wallet from his coat pocket. "This was an experience. First time someone outside a my family cut my hair."

"Clearly they've been neglecting you!" the barber joked and accepted the bills Remy handed him. Looking at his tip, he announced: "Excelsior!"

"Thanks for puttin' up with us," Rogue told him. "Have a happy Thanksgiving!"

Now back outside on the sidewalk, Rogue reached up and mussed Remy's hair even more. He laughed and pulled away, taking her hand in his.

"Well, that was my last dollar spent," Remy said to her.

"If you need any money, sugah-," Rogue began.

Remy shook his head. "No, no. I can get some cash."

"You get a contract? Gonna steal something not nailed down?"

"Nah, over here," he said and pointed to the ATM outside of the small bank.

"Thought you didn't use a bank?"

"It's not my account," Remy said. He fished around in his wallet, found his bank card behind the photo of Belle.

Rogue put her hands on her hips. "Who's card is that then?"

"My father's," Remy said. "I hope I can remember dis here pin."

Having met with success, Remy looked at the account information. He blinked. "Well, that's..."

Rogue was standing behind the privacy barrier. "Everything okay? Ah told you, we can just-."

"No, everything's fine," Remy said perplexed. "It's just that I'd never seen dis account have more than a three-digit amount in it." Remy stared at the few thousand dollars that was now in the emergency account. "It must be some kinda bank error. We don't have dis kinda cash."

"At least it's in your favor," Rogue said.

Hesitantly, Remy poked at the keys to make a withdrawal. If his father already knew where he was, then it didn't matter now. Hopefully, his using the account wouldn't signal some kind of attempt at contact.

"Dis'll get me squared away with Robin at least," he said, taking the bills and stuffing them into his wallet.

"Don't forget your card," Rogue said and took the card from the slot. Before he could stop her, she looked at it. "'Jean-Michel Lord'?"

Remy felt a small jolt, a weird feeling of disassociation. He held out his hand for the card, which she turned over to him. "That's an alias. My last name is...LeBeau."

"Remy LeBeau," she repeated, staring at his face. She smiled. "You're right, it does sound made up."

"Maybe it's my nom de plume?" he said. "For when I write my smutty romance novels."

Taking his arm, they proceeded down the sidewalk, heading in the direction of the apartment. "You sure you want to give up your place?" she said in a wheedling tone. "Ah mean...it's so outta the way...private."

A smile flashed across Remy's face. "You thinkin' you want some privacy, chère?"

"Maybe we need some privacy…?"

Remy suddenly had a spring in his step. Rogue laughed. They paused on a street corner to let a few cars drive through the intersection. Rogue turned and tugged his coat lapels, and he obeyed her silent request by bowing slightly to bring himself to her height. She turned her head and kissed him softly. The kiss became more ardent.

A cheerful bell chimed several times. The pair looked up and a bicycle whizzed past. "Get a room!" called the bike rider and he flashed a peace sign.

"Indianapolis is gonna end your streak t'morrow!" Remy shouted after Curtis.

"GoPatsGoPats GO PATS!"

Later, back in the apartment, Remy felt quite flush. And it had nothing to do with the sudden appearance of extra cash in the emergency fund. The loveliest woman in the world was in bed, his bed, scooting backwards up from the foot of the bed to lay her head on the pillows. Her pretty hair framed her face. Best of all she was smiling at him. Also, she was definitely naked, not nude. Remy had shucked his shirt as soon as they'd entered his apartment, and now stood at the foot of the bed, pulling off his boots, then drawing down his jeans. He climbed onto the bed, sitting by her feet. He lightly brushed the tops of her toes with his fingers.

"No tickling!" she admonished, waving a finger at him. Her other arm was raised behind her head, propped up so she could look at him.

"No tickling," he promised, then took one of her feet and pulled it into his lap. He pressed his thumbs into the ball of her foot. She closed her eyes for a moment and sighed. Remy's hands moved to her instep.

"Why don't you show me…" he began, kneading her heel. "How you like to touch yourself?"

Her green eyes opened and she regarded him through heavy lidded eyes. "Mm…" she hesitated. The knee to her opposite leg turned to the side and Remy thought he might have caught a glimpse of heaven.

"You shy about it?" he asked. "Or should we figure it out together?"

"Not...shy," she said, and her fingers trailed up the inside of her thigh. "It's just…" she laughed a little. "Ah guess Ah'm more acquainted with mah hand shower…?" The corner of her mouth curled into a smile.

Remy took her other foot into his hand. He kept his focus on her toes, painted a pretty shade of shell pink that had matched her undergarments before she'd tossed them to the floor. He thought even her toes were delicious looking, and he might want to put one in his mouth. Probably not a good idea if she was ticklish though. "Shame my shower is just for one," he told her. "Otherwise…"

Rogue pulled her foot from his lap and sat up. Remy's eyes moved up her folded legs to her breasts. The word for 'exquisite' appeared in several languages inside his mind's eye.

"Does your shower have a door, or a curtain?" she asked in a pleasant sounding voice.

Remy's brain had the hiccups and he didn't understand why they were talking bathroom decor. "Kinda like a European sort of affair," he said with mild confusion, "with the glass door that folds."

"Hmm," Rogue said, and began crawling towards him on her hands and knees. She was still smiling.

Remy was pretty sure something had burst inside his skull. This wasn't happening, and Rogue was in fact, an angel from heaven sent to take him to stand before Saint Peter.

"So, there's room for one," Rogue said, her mouth a whisper away from his lips. "And there's a glass door. And you wanted me to show you...what Ah like. Y'sure you don't mind just watching?"

"Oh, mon Dieu," Remy said and almost fell off the end of the bed in his haste to stand.

"So you can move fast when you want!" Rogue said.

The sounds Rogue made in the shower made Remy thankful he'd put down another month's worth of rent on the apartment. Things were getting particularly steamy...until they weren't.

"Oh, oh mah god! That's cold!"

Remy pulled open the shower door and handed her a towel. "Sorry, forgot to say about dat part."

Rogue squealed and dashed past him through the bathroom door and back into the apartment. She clambered up onto the bed and pulled the bed coverings over herself. "You'd best get over here and warm me up!" she commanded.

Remy hopped up beside her onto the bed. They lay on their sides facing one another. He offered her his hand, it was plenty warm. Rogue guided his palm down her body, letting him linger on her breasts, brush the backs of his fingers against her navel, before moving his fingers between her legs.

She gasped.

"Is dis good?" he asked.

She nodded slightly.

He asked: "D'you want me, inside?"

Rogue shook her head 'no'.

"D'accord, petite," he whispered, moved himself closer.

She pressed his fingers against her heat, moved herself against his hand. She sighed, half frustrated.

Remy sat up, positioned himself in a seated position between her legs, moving aside the blankets. "We got all day, chère. No rush. Can I put both hands on you?"

Rogue nodded, looking slightly guarded. He ran his hands lightly up the insides of her thighs. "It's like a massage. Only a bit higher than your feet."

She smiled again, closed her eyes. After a while, she let out a small sound, kept clamped behind her lips. Remy moved his thumbs upward and she pulled a pillow over her face and moaned.

"Still good?" he asked, watching his fingers slide along the innermost part of her sex. Then back up to her most sensitive place.

Rogue gasped and pulled back. Remy put his hands in his lap, looking at her. "Not good?"

She pulled a lock of hair from where it had caught in her mouth. "No, no it felt good. Just. Intense."

His eyes roved her body hungrily. "There is not an inch on your body I wouldn't touch. Not a place I wouldn't want to kiss."

A sigh shuddered out of her. "Remy…" she began. "Ah want that too."

His eyes returned to hers. "Would you let me put my mouth on you?"

Her face was flushed, her tiny freckles looked darker against the pinkness of her cheeks. "Is that somethin'...you'd like? It's not-."

"I'd like it very much. I told you. I'd kiss every inch of you. Every part of you is beautiful."

"Ah don't know. What's it feel like?"

He smiled and moved ever so slightly forward. "Well, can't say from your perspective. But I imagine wet...warm. Not unlike a shower. Or a hot bath, only in a very localized area."

She made a sound, any hesitation she might have had weakened and faded away. Rogue's head lowered to the pillow, her hands clenched the sheets, and her knees fell to either side. If the sounds that echoed from the shower were a tune, the sounds she made in the following few minutes were more akin to a warble. One of her hands moved to his hair, and he felt her fingers tangle themselves there. She might have tugged, pulling him just a fraction to the left. When he stopped his progress, she gasped in disappointment.

He turned his face to the side, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh, lessening her grip on his head. "Chère," he whispered. "Can ya not pull my hair?"

"Oh!" she said in surprise. "Sorry, Ah didn't realize Ah was even doin' it."

"S'all right," he murmured. "Shall I continue?"

"Oh, oh mah god," she whispered. "Don't stop."

Eventually, she did make him stop, gently pushing on his shoulder. She was panting slightly. "Okay, that was better than a shower," she said weakly.

He laughed and ran his wrist over his chin. "Thought you were speakin' in tongues there for a second, chère."

"There was just the one tongue," she said, hugging her legs together, squeezing her eyes shut. "Though sometimes it felt like two."

He pulled himself to lay beside her, looking down at her body. He desperately wanted to pull her nakedness against him, to feel every part of her along his entire length. She rolled slightly towards him. Her hand touched his face to run down his neck, over his shoulder and down his arm. One arm was pinned beneath him against the mattress, the other rested on his hip. When she reached his wrist, she paused, and her fingers trailed along the waistband of his shorts. "Do you mind this?" she asked, and touched him through the fabric.

"No, not at all," he whispered.

Rogue's eyes searched his face, then she seemed to gather some resolve. Her hand delved beneath his waistband and he sucked in a breath.

"Is this okay?" she asked.

"Mmn," he said.

Rogue pushed his shorts down, and he obliged her by lifting his hips. She urged him onto his back, and straddled his thighs. She was looking down at him. He wondered if she'd ever seen a naked man like this before. Her hands were gentle on him. Maybe even softer than he'd like, but he didn't urge her onwards. Forcing himself to wait was part of the pleasure. He watched her hands move on him. It was a struggle to remain motionless. Her gaze was cast downward, he could only see the dark fan of her lashes on her cheeks. She did something he particularly liked and he let out a short moan in the back of his throat. Her eyes flicked back up to his face, seeking reassurance.

"Don't stop," he whispered to her.

"Ah think every part of you is pretty beautiful too, Remy," she said.

"I was hopin' t'go with a more ruggedly handsome look," Remy told her. "Think Logan will mind if I borrow somethin' from his wardrobe?"

Rogue laughed a little. "Flannel is very 'in' right now," she said softly, continuing to move her hands up and down his length.

He considered interrupting her, just for a moment, to grab something from the bag under his bed. He thought there might've been a bottle of hotel room lotion somewhere in there. Distracted for an instant, he suddenly realized he was surrounded with warm, wet heat. He gasped, feeling her lips on him, then her mouth. His hands slid across the mattress to either side, he sat up slightly to watch her. The sight was entirely too arousing. It became too intense, and he touched her gently on the shoulder. Rogue sat up, her hand over her mouth, now bright red, lips swollen.

"Did that feel good?" she asked, a little nervously.

"A little too," he told her. "Under de bed. In my bag…"

Rogue turned, leaned over the edge of the bed to fumble beneath it. Remy was presented with the beautiful sight of her rounded posterior. Another place he'd like to touch with his mouth. Rogue found what she was looking for, climbed back onto the bed to lay beside him. She wrapped her hand around him. Her hand slid smooth and firm against him, over and over. He stilled her hand, gasping.

"Rogue," he hissed.

"Ah've read enough romance novels t'know what happens next," she told him, her voice low and sultry in his ear.

He shuddered in her grip, turned his face to the pillow and groaned. They lay beside one another for several minutes until Rogue pulled herself from the bed to go to the bathroom. She returned momentarily and climbed under the covers beside him. Remy still lay immobilized on top of the bedclothes.

"You okay there, sugah?" she asked, turning her head to look at him with a smile.

"Mmn."

"Speechless, then?" She turned towards him, picked up a lock of his hair. It curled sharply at the ends where it had been cut. "We should probably go back soon. Ah need to help with the food prep for tomorrow."

"Can't we just live on lovemakin'?" he mumbled.

"'Fraid not. Ah could maybe go a few days, but Ah think you'd starve before Friday."

He slowly placed his hand on her middle, covered as she was by a sheet, she didn't shy from his unprompted touch. "We never did much prep-work for Thanksgiving," he told her. "Didn't even make groceries."

"Your family?" Rogue asked to clarify. "Did ya not have Thanksgiving dinner then?"

Remy propped himself up on an elbow to look at her. "No, we ate plenty. Just ran around all over de place stealin' from de other cla-er, relatives. Then everybody'd bring whatever we stole from each other to Tante Mattie's house, make it all up then. Everyone starts drinkin' 'bout ten in de morning. Then someone starts singin' songs and dat goes on until dawn or until everyone's passed out. Whichever comes first. Do a bigger version at Mardi Gras."

Rogue grinned. "That sounds like a riot, sugah."

"What all did your family do?" Remy asked.

Rogue's smile faded. "When Ah was a girl, it was a pretty somber affair. Very formal. Lots a prayin'."

"We prayed too, mostly for a hangover cure."

Rogue laughed. "Certainly no drinkin' at mah house. But later...when I was taken in by...mah new family, Ah learned t'cook mahself. Made us a proper Thanksgiving."

"You didn't say you were adopted," Remy said.

Rogue shook her head slightly. "We're no longer on speaking terms. Me and mah adoptive mother, her partner."

"Sorry t'hear. Know that's not easy. Especially during de holidays."

Rogue gazed at Remy. "No, it's easier for me now," she told him. "Mah momma, she's...not a nice person. She used me. Well, and Ah let her. From when Ah was just a teeny kid to-til a year or so ago. Ah used mah powers on whoever got in mah way, for her. And Ah liked it. Then, it seemed Ah'd absorbed enough folks, their thoughts, that maybe Ah started to get a conscience of mah own. By that time Ah'd had so many personalities in mah head, Ah'd like t'go crazy. Ah'd like to think it was mah newfound guilt, but maybe Ah just couldn't take it anymore. Ah went to Xavier for help. It was the hardest thing Ah ever went through."

She drew a shaking breath. "The other X-Men didn't want me there, at first. Ah'd hurt their friend, near killed her. Xavier was the only one who spoke up for me." A tear rolled from the corner of her eye. "Ah've tried t'make up for mah mistakes. Be a part of the team."

Remy took the corner of the sheet, wiped her tears. "Seems like you made de right choice, chère."

She nodded. "Ah think so. You plannin' on stickin' around too?"

"Mostly," he said. "Unless I stay here, part-time, and you keep comin'...over."

Rogue grinned. "What about your people, then? You gonna break it to them?"

Remy felt his smile dim. "I suppose. I suppose maybe I should probably at least call. Talk to my brother, anyway. Say 'Happy Thanksgiving.'"

"Sounds like a plan," she said. Rogue sat up and kissed his mouth. "C'mon, get your pants on. Ah got to prepare the dressing."

Remy moaned. "I do miss my Tante's dressing!" Slowly, he complied. They pulled on their clothes, but not before Remy tried to snatch Rogue's panties away.

"Here," Remy told her as they walked down the outside steps. "Let's take my bike. It'll be cold, but not take as long as walkin'."

Remy backed his bike from the garage, handed Rogue a helmet.

"Hardly need a helmet, sugah," she told him.

"Hardly need t'get pulled over, chère," Remy informed her. "Sorry your hair is about t'get flattened. I can wake it back up for you once we get back."

Rogue obediently put the helmet onto her head. Remy tightened the strap under her chin. "Okay, now don't try to compensate and shift about. Just stick t'me when we go 'round curves."

"Ah'll remind you of that, next time we go for a fly," Rogue smirked. "When can Ah drive?"

"Get on de back," Remy said by way of reply, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. Rogue climbed on as he started the engine. The noise loudly echoed off the side of the garage. Once he was certain Rogue was seated, her arms around his waist, he started off down the gravel drive, then onto the main street. The cold stung his bare knuckles and face, but helped clear his sex-addled head. It was a short bike ride to the mansion. Rogue directed him towards the garage in the rear of the home. Remy stopped just before the garage door and Rogue climbed off the bike. She pulled off her borrowed helmet, walked towards the side door to the garage. Remy waited while the garage door opened, walked his bike inside.

There was another Harley in the garage. Remy parked beside it; his bike, battered, scratched and dirty, looked even more so next to the black and chrome beast therein. When Remy cut the engine, he patted his bike reassuringly. "Don't fret, Loretta," he told the bike. "Beauty, she fades, but character is forever."

Rogue handed him her helmet and he stored it in a compartment in the bike. "She's named Loretta?" Rogue asked. "Loretta Lynn?"

"Could there be another?" Remy asked. "And here we are, Louisiana Woman and a Mississippi Man, gender switch version. Hey, Lou'siana woman, Mississippi man…"

Together: "We get together ever' time we can. The Mississippi River can't keep us apaahrt."

Rogue sang low:"There's too much love in the Mississippi heart."

Remy, falsetto: "Too much love in dis Lou'siana heart!"

"Next verse you sing Conway's part, and Ah'll do Loretta."

"Agree to disagree."

Walking back towards the mansion, they howled: "Well, Mississippi River, Lord, it's one mahle wide. And Ah gotta get me to the other side. Mississippi man, I'm losin' my mind. Gotta have your lovin' one more time. I'm gonna jump in the river and here I go. Too bad alligator you swim too slow!"

Next time: Thanksgiving, football, family-bonding.

Random references:

Rogue sings Cyndi Lauper

Any guesses who Stan is?

Almost Cut My Hair - Crosby Stills Nash and Young, they played at Woodstock

Devils Haircut - Beck

Louisiana Woman, Mississippi Man - Conway Twitty and Loretta Lynn