Jubilation and Evan looked
up in alarm, as a furious Kitty stomped into the kitchen, flung off her
jacket onto the floor, and shrilly proclaimed, "Pietro Maximoff is the
biggest jerk in the whole wide world!"
Evan was immediately interested, as he eagerly demanded, "Dude, what
did Maximoff do to you?", at the same time that Jubilation raised an eyebrow
and remarked, "Hey, I like your pants. Really patriotic what with the American
flag painted on the back."
Kitty looked down and smiled, preening, "Oh, thanks, they were just
too cute to resist, and can you believe that they only cost me ten dollars?"
Jubilation's mouth dropped, as she said enviously, "Really? No way!
Gosh, I wish I had gone shopping with you on that day."
Kitty shrugged.
"It's really no big deal,
more luck than anything else," she told her. "I mean, the store was having,
like, a clearance sale or something, and they were trying to sell everything
in storage to make room for the spring clothing line, so..."
"Ahem! Can we please get
back to Pietro being a big jerk and all that?" Evan, impatient at hearing
all this "girl talk", tried to nudge Kitty back to the subject at hand.
"Huh--What--Oh, yeah! I
hate Pietro!" Kitty looked confused for a minute as she rearranged her
thoughts, then angrily repeated her declaration.
"What did he do to you?"
Jubilation asked. Kitty was positively seething as she launched into an
explanation.
"Well, today in my American
History evening study group, the teacher made us do the usual Pledge of
Allegiance and all that," she began. "Anyway, it turns out they didn't
have a flag, 'cause some drunken cheerleader had stolen it over the weekend
to make a star-spangled thong bikini out of--Evan, quit drooling, this
is serious!--so, anyway, the teacher was looking around, trying to find
a replacement, when Pietro comes along, notices my American flag jeans,
and calls out that the teacher can stop worrying about finding a flag to
say the Pledge of Allegiance to, since everyone can just stare at my butt
while they're pledging the allegiance!"
"Oh, my God!" Jubilation
exclaimed, as Evan fell off his chair in his hysterical laughing fit.
"Man, wait till Kurt hears
about this!" the delighted X-Man crowed, at the same time that Jubilation
reached over to offer Kitty a sympathy hug while murmuring, "Aw, you poor
thing."
"Yeah, and the worst thing
is, everyone did stare at my butt while Mr. Hoffman led us in the
Pledge of Allegiance!" Kitty moaned in humiliation. Turning to Evan, the
determined freshman declared, "Daniels, consider yourself with a new ally
in your feud against Pietro!"
At this, Evan abruptly stopped laughing.
"But--but--but--but I don't
want a partner!" he whined. Kitty turned to him, guns a blazin', and Evan
eeped and shrunk back, having no problem imagining the Shadowcat giving
a fierce tigress growl.
"Well, too bad!" the supposedly
wholesome, pure, and perky freshman snarled. "From this day forth, we're
going to find a way to beat the living crap out of Pietro!"
Meanwhile, back at the harbor,
the captain wearily got back to his original position of greeting the guests,
after finally having succeeded in pushing a lodged-in Fred Durst into the
ship. Just then, when he thought all the passengers had already boarded,
a couple hurriedly made their way over, dressed in eighties-style leather
with chains, flashy Spandex tops, and with hair that would have made Mötley
Crüe quite proud. The captain's eyebrow twitched, as he wondered what
the hell this strangely-clad duo could possibly want, before venturing
warily, "Uh...can I help you?"
The young man responded with a simple, "Yeah, let us into this ship."
The captain shrugged, before consenting.
"Uh...sure," he mumbled.
"Just show me your tickets."
At this, the young man's eyebrows nearly flew off his forehead, offended,
as he demanded in a rather insolent tone, "Excuse you? Show our tickets?
Old man, do you know who we are?"
The captain began to grow impatient with his attitude.
"No, I don't know
who you are," he gritted out in a clipped tone. "Now, either show me your
tickets, or go away."
"We happen to be
members of the most popular underground hard rock band of the decade,"
the young man sniffed. "I'm, um...I'm, er...Axl...Van Halen! Yeah, I'm
Axl Van Halen, and this lovely lady here happens to be...um...Lita...Jett!
Yeah, we're Axl Van Halen and Lita Jett!"
"Ugh!" Apparently, "Lita"
wasn't too pleased with something "Axl" had said, as the rather gothic
in appearance girl hit her forehead with the heel of her hand as she let
out a groan. The captain looked rather amused.
"Well, it's very nice learning
your names, Mr. Van Halen, but I'm afraid I can't give you any special
treatment. It would be unfair to the paying customers," he apologized.
At this, "Axl's" eyebrows flew up in indignation, as he sputtered, "But...but...but
you let those punks from Limp Bizkit get in for free!"
The captain shrugged.
"Yeah, but at least they're
established rock stars, and I'm afraid I haven't heard of your group, Mr.
Van Halen," he pointed out. "Axl" huffed in irritation, before pushing
"Lita" forward and snapping, "Well, once you hear her sing, you'll know
we're an established rock group! You know, Lita here happened to be the
princess of alternative rock before joining our band!"
"All right, then. Let's
hear Ms. Jett sing her lovely alternative songs." The captain took up his
bluff, and leaned back with an expectant look on his face. "Axl" swallowed,
but apparently decided that he had to keep his word, and pushed poor "Lita"
to the forefront.
"Um, okay, then, Joan, I
mean, Rogue, I mean, Gwen, I mean, Lita, I mean,...no wait, you are,
um
Lita!" he mumbled. "Er...sing something alternative."
Rogue, clad in more Spandex
and leather than she would have liked and nearly blinded by her mousse-augmented
hair, blinked dazedly as an equally hideously-costumed Scott pushed her
toward the captain and babbled something about singing an alternative song.
Alternative! What the hell...she didn't even listen to alternative
music! Rogue tee heed nervously, trying to buy some time, as she frantically
ran a list of song titles that she knew, and searched for anything that
might pass off as being alternative. Suddenly, she recalled something she
had heard on the radio back in '99. Some group called Goo Goo something.
She wasn't exactly sure what the exact lyrics were, but hey, all she had
to do was sing a few lines, not cover the whole song, so how hard could
it be? Opening her mouth, Rogue promptly intoned in a monotonous drone,
"Baby's black balloon ate a fly."
"Ugh!"
This time, it was Scott's turn to smack his forehead and groan.
The captain was more amused
than anything else, as "Lita" repeated the line from alternative rockers
The Goo Goo Doll's 1999 hit single, Black Balloon, with a twist
of her own. "Axl", meanwhile, was looking at him with a nervous expression
on his face, as he coughed and struggled to make up some lame excuse to
cover for "Lita's" slip up.
"Erm...she sings backup
in our really, really popular underground hard rock band," he finally stammered
out. "But hey, I'm the lead singer, and I--"
"Oh, really?" The captain
was apparently having a merry time torturing the two "rock stars". "Why
don't you sing something, then?"
"Axl" looked like he wanted to pull a Homer Simpson and go "Doah!"
at his own slip up, but recovered just in time.
"Erm...okay," he mumbled.
"I mean, I am a rock star and all, what with being the explosively
charismatic Diamond Dave, I mean Axl Rose, I mean, Axl Bon Jovi, I mean,
Axl, um...wait, what was I again...Oh yeah! Um, I'm the explosively charismatic
rock & roll frontman, Axl, um, Van Halen!"
After clearing his throat for several minutes, "Axl" finally began
to sing.
"In the jungle/Welcome to
the jungle/Watch it bring you to your knees, knees...!" he began to screech,
in the patented Axl Rose banshee scream.
Five Minutes Later...
"Thanks a lot, Scott!" a
furious and humiliated Rogue hissed as she stomped over to the convertible
parked by the harbor, yanking off her chain-studded leather jacket with
a vengeance. "Not only did we get kicked out, but now we have to pay for
all those glass windows you shattered!"
"Hey, it's not my fault,"
Scott muttered, a few paces behind her. "Blame Axl Rose for singing in
that banshee scream!"
"Out of all the rock &
roll songs available, you just had to choose Welcome To The Jungle,
didn't ya?" Rogue snapped. "I mean, there are so many other songs
that don't require any banshee yells at all! What about Van Halen's Jump?"
"Hey, hey, hey!" Scott muttered
defensively. "So I goofed up. Big deal."
Rogue sighed, and tucked a poofy strand of mousse'd hair behind her
ear.
"Oh, well," she muttered,
as she headed for the car. "At least this is over."
At this, Scott turned around sharply to give her a look.
"What do you mean, at least
this is over?" he wanted to know. A horrified expression came over Rogue's
features.
"Oh, no!" she groaned. "Scott,
please
tell me that this is over, and you're gonna quit trying..."
"On the contrary," Scott
preened. "It has just begun!"
The captain shook his head
as he prepared to enter the ship, grateful to have gotten rid of those
two still-stuck-in-the-eighties weirdoes. Just then, he saw another couple
dashing to enter, and he squinted when he suddenly noticed something. It
couldn't be! His eyes must be deceiving him! Or were the young man and
woman really dressed in what appeared to be a hastily rented tuxedo
and wedding gown, respectively? The couple steadily approached, and the
tuxedo-clad young man started waving frantically to catch the captain's
attention. It was true! They were dressed like newlyweds
who'd just gotten hitched off at some drunken drive-thru marriage in Las
Vegas!
"Wait, hold on!" the young
man, who was wearing a pair of rather familiar red shades, called out breathlessly.
The captain forced a smile on his face, telling himself that it was rude
to stare with an incredulous, open-mouthed expression on his face, and
instead greeted, "Ah, I see you're the last ones. Good thing, too, you've
made it just on time."
Stepping aside, the captain
allowed entrance to the bride and groom, and, as the couple was about to
board, recited dutifully, "Now, if you will just give me your tickets,
I'll show you to your..."
"Wait...wait a minute!"
the young groom--who looked barely of legal drinking age, if that--spoke
up suddenly, blinking rapidly at this request for tickets. "What do you
mean, you want to see our tickets?"
Now it was the captain's turn to blink in surprise, as he asked, "Well,
you weren't expecting to get on without tickets, now where you?"
"But...but...but we're newlyweds
on our honeymoon!" the young man protested. "I mean, aren't you going to
let us get on for free?"
The captain let out a cheerful, hearty laugh.
"Good heavens, no!" he spoke
in amusement. "I'd be losing nearly half a grand if I did that! Now, young
man, do you have tickets or not?"
"But...but...but it worked
in Friends!" the ill-fitting tuxedo-clad groom protested indignantly,
and the captain laughed again.
"Well perhaps it did, but
you also have to remember that this is the same show where they married
off one of their main characters to a lesbian," he reminded the groom,
then repeated patiently, "Now, do you have your tickets?"
The groom muttered something unflattering under his breath--the captain
distinctly caught the words "cheap bastard"--before grabbing the hand of
his pale, rather gothic bride and muttering, "Come on Lita, I mean, Gwen,
I mean, Rogue, I mean...wait, you are Rogue!" His irritated--and
perhaps, just a tad irate--bride grumbled, "Yes, I am Rogue, Scott!
Or would you prefer I called you Axl?", to which Scott blushed and muttered,
"Let's just get out of here, Rogue. We don't have to stand around
and be insulted by some old man who's probably reeking with scurvy!" And
he grabbed her carefully gloved hand and stalked off.
Rogue stalked off toward
where the car was parked, viciously ripping off the bride's veil with a
vengeance as she stormed down the pier.
"Believe me when I say this,
Summers--or would you prefer Van Halen?--but this is the last time I am
allowing myself to get dragged along on one of your stalker trips!" she
seethed, furious. Scott, meanwhile, scurried to catch up to her, apologizing,
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry for making you wear tacky eighties clothing and
a stolen wedding gown, and I promise that after tonight, I won't
bug you anymore about Lance and Jean..."
Rogue's eyebrows flew up when she caught the "after tonight" comment,
and zoomed in on it like a hunter moving in for the kill.
"What do you mean, after
tonight?" she demanded, instantly suspicious. "Believe it or not, Scott,
but the cruise's sold out and about to leave the harbor in less than five
minutes, and the captain won't let you in unless you've got a ticket!"
"Maybe," Scott said, with
that now familiar manic grin. "However, after the sob story I've concocted,
there's no freakin' way he'll deny us entrance!"
"Scott..." Rogue's voice
began to trail off warily.
The captain was ready to board the ship himself and commence the cruise, when he saw a now familiar pair of red shades hurrying along through the night. Groaning to himself, he wondered what that gutsy kid had come up with now, as, glancing hurriedly at his watch, he decided that he would give the kid one and a half minutes to try to weedle his way in, before having to board the ship and kick off the two-night-long romantic cruise.
Scott, meanwhile, dressed
in tatters and rags, pulled an even paler-than-usual-looking Rogue along
on a wheelchair...or rather, he wheeled a nauseous-looking Rogue along
at a speed that Pietro would have been quite proud of (or was that quite
envious of?).
"Wait!" Scott called out
breathlessly. "You can't leave now, you have to let us in!"
The captain stopped and turned around, and began to intone, "Listen
kid, we have to leave now, so you've got one minute and--" he paused to
look at his watch, "--ah, now you've got one minute and fifteen
seconds to cook up a tall tale and leave me the hell alone!"
Scott paused to work on a suitably offended look.
"Why, I don't possibly understand
what do you mean by tall tale, I'll have you know, both myself and this
lovely lady here are responsible, honest, hardworking--" he began to ramble.
"Ten seconds," the captain
broke in, eyes never leaving his watch. Scott hurriedly stopped, and began
to rattle off breathlessly, "Well, you see, my sister here, she's really
sick, she's got that cancer thingie, yeah, cancer of the blood, I mean,
leukemia, I mean, she's really, really, sick, her hair's practically fallen
out and she's forced to wear a wig--!"
"Scott!" Rogue twisted around
in the wheelchair Scott had stolen from some poor hospital patient getting
some fresh air, and slapped the living daylights out of him.
"Ouch!" Scott paused to
complain, before going on again. "And she's about to die in, um, six weeks,
and she really wanted to see the band slated to perform all the romantic
songs on this cruise tonight, and she's a huge, loyal, devoted fan, and
she's never gotten to see them in concert before, and she thinks that they're
just so beautiful and romantic, and, oh, for God's sake, aren't you going
to grant a poor dying woman her one last wish?!"
The captain blinked, startled.
"Your terminally ill sister's
dying wish is to hear Limp Bizkit perform, because she thinks they're
beautiful and romantic?" he wanted to know. Scott shrugged, and made a
Women--Who-Knows-What-They're-Thinking?
expression, before rattling off, "Well, you know, she has a very romantic
soul, and she greatly appreciates the artists' inner and outer beauty,
and she thinks they're just the most beautiful, soulful, romantic--What
the hell do you mean, Limp Bizkit's performing tonight?"
Scott finally seemed to have understood what the captain was saying,
as, digging around in his pockets, he pulled out a tattered flyer and whined,
"Your people clearly advertised that Creed and The Goo Goo Dolls were slated
to perform on this cruise!"
The captain shrugged.
"Well, yeah, originally,
we did have Creed and Goo Goo Dolls...but as soon as they found
out they'd be sharing the stage with Limp Bizkit and Fred Durst, they promptly
split, damn them!" the captain grumbled.
"Well, that's just fine,
because my sister happens to prefer angry over- tattooed men screaming
obscenities into the mike over handsome and romantic men singing passionately,
so hah!" Scott huffed, wincing as he realized how ridiculous that came
out. The captain threw up his hands, and gave an irritated sigh, as he
grumbled, "Look, kid, you've been trying forever to get into this cruise,
and I must admit you've come up with some rather...creative and original
ways! Now, I don't approve of this, and I don't know where the hell my
brain's at for letting me do this, but I admire your guts, so get in before
I grow a spine and change my mind!"
"All right!" Scott pumped
his fist into the air, before quickly jerking his "terminally ill with
leukemia sister" Rogue out of her wheelchair.
"And it's a miracle. The
deathly sick little sister walks," the captain muttered sarcastically,
as he boarded after the couple and prepared to kick off the now slightly-delayed
cruise. Meanwhile, Scott could be heard distinctly saying something about
how now he could freely stalk--erm, that is, casually observe--Lance and
Jean without having to wear a silly tuxedo, while Rogue muttered something
about how at least this way she wouldn't have to worry about her mousse'd,
eighties-style hair taking out one of her eyes.