Erin Go Blah!
Logan
pulled the bike up to the gate at Xavier's School and peered fuzzily at that
buttons on the security pad. He
carefully and deliberately punched in the code that would allow him ingress to
the sacred grounds of Mutant High.
He
laughed tipsily at the thought. He
mentally whistled through his teeth. Damn he'd had a lot of beer tonight. He was actually drunk.
He'd parked in the lot of The Auger Inn over eight hours ago. A huge sign hanging from the front of the building touted not only the availability of McSorley's Ale but also $5.00 pitchers of green beer. Christ on a crutch, he'd thought, not another freakin' holiday!
He both hated and loved drinking holidays like St. Patrick's Day.
He hated them because people who would never dream of setting foot the kinds of bars he usually frequented came slithering out of the woodwork for cheap green beer and 'ambiance.' An amused snort escaped him at the thought. Ambiance! The only ambiance The Auger Inn possessed was a result of the mud created on the floor by the combination of spilled beer, layers of dirt and saw dust.
He loved them because he could drink non-stop! A fifty-dollar bill on the bar had indicated to the bartender to serve up the McSorley's and keep it coming until told otherwise.
Damn! The place had been so green. Everywhere he turned he saw green. Green Budweiser promotional shamrocks hung
over the bar, people were clad in all manner of green clothing and cheap green
beer flowed like water. The color reminded him too much of Toad and it had
annoyed the fuck out of him. He drank
harder!
Two
hours and two dozen McSorleys' later, Logan was beginning to catch a decent
buzz. Even the sound of drunken
revelers singing terrible off-key renditions of "Danny Boy" and the constant
programming of "The Unicorn Song" on the jukebox was barely enough to
ruin his mellow mood.
He'd
been happily enjoying the view of a busty blonde bent over the pool table, her
'goodies' barely contained by the green "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" tank top
she wore, when a beer-fueled altercation intruded on his blissful alcohol and
lust induced daze.
He'd
nonchalantly strolled over to the wall rack that held the pool cues, selected
one of suitable weight, cracked the participants soundly on their heads, reseated
himself and began getting the beers in once again!
He'd
staggered out half an hour ago when they'd finally run out of Mc Sorley's and
driven his drunk ass back to school. Good thing he had a helmet for a skull. If he hit any trees doing 60 miles an hour it would be the tree that
would be receiving last rites and not him!
He
was just about to ascend the stairs from the garage into the mansion when he
heard rustling and whispering in the bushes outside.
"C'mon
gimme a boost so I can reach it!"
"Geez,
Johnny, watch your feet, I plan on fathering children one day!"
"Mes
amies, wouldn't it just be easier to go through de door?"
Logan
sniffed. Hmmm. Gumbo, Popsicle Boy and the Human Cigarette
Lighter. What were they doing out here
at this time of night? He wondered.
He
crept quietly back out of the garage and peered around the corner of the
building. Apparently they were trying
to sneak back into school by way of the kitchen window and not having much
success. Could have something to do
with the fact that they're rat-assed drunk, Logan snickered. He watched for a few more minutes as the
icicle kid tried to give the fire hazard another boost to the window. The end result was Drake dropped Allerdyce
and they both fell over onto Le Beau.
The
three lay in a heap of arms and legs and indulged in recrimination.
"For
cryin' out loud, Bobby! Couldn't you
even hold me still for half a minute?"
"Put
a lid on it, you weigh a ton."
"Mon
confreres, if you had simply let Gambit pick de lock on de basement door we
would not have to go t'rough dis farce."
The
two younger boys turned on the Cajun.
"Put
a sock in it, Le Beau!"
Remy
looked suitably indignant and removed an imaginary piece of lint from his
ever-present trench coat.
Logan
strolled out of the shadows and three sets of barely focused eyes traveled
comically up from his boots to his face.
"Close
yer mouths. Yer catching
flies!" Logan growled. The three boys scrambled and practically
tripped over each other trying to get to their feet. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out
loud at the sight. Instead he rolled
his eyes. "So these are the future
X-Men? Ya can't even climb through a
kitchen window." He clucked his tongue in mock distress.
"What
the hell're you three doing out here at this time of night anyway? It's way past lights out!" He barked.
All
three boys started stammering at once.
"Well,
sir it's like this…" "Night
bivouac, Wolverine…" "Gambit t'ought he heard Rogue calling his
name…"
Logan
weaved slightly as he peered at them. He was still drunk but sobering rapidly. These three on the other hand, well they could barely remain
upright.
"Can
it! I know what you were doing. Don't you think I can smell the beer on
ya? You snuck out for a St. Patrick's
Day celebration and now yer trying to get back into the mansion without Cyclops
finding ya." He was about to make
a mental note to kick the ass of whoever was supposed to be on security detail
and then remembered it was him. Oh
well.
He
paced back and forth in front of them. "What am I gonna do with you? You think I should turn you into Cyclops?" Three horrified faced looked back at
him. "The Professor?" Gasps of horror.
He
was completely sober now and not happy about it.
He
stopped short and scowled at the boys.
"I
know. You all do the Riverdance for me
in honor of the holiday and I promise I won't tell your girlfriends you've been
sneaking out behind their backs."
They
started to protest but Logan cut them off.
"I
could probably wake Jean up and have Cyke out here within five minutes if you'd
rather take your chances…"
"No,
no!" Bobby Drake spoke up. "I
think we can manage a little Irish dancing rather than face Mr. Summers."
John
smacked him on the arm. "Bobby,
when was the last time you defrosted that brain of yours, buddy?"
Gambit
was shaking his head violently. "Gambit don't do no sissy Riverdance. Not even for the Wolverine. You wan' go get Rogue out de bed and see some Zydeco two-step, den Remy
be happy to oblige but he refuse to prance around like Lucky the leprechaun
just to get out of a little detention."
Logan
reached over and clapped the young man on the back. "That's mighty admirable there, Gumbo, what with Spring
Break coming up and all. I'm sure Cyke
could find plenty for you to do around here while your friends are whooping it
up in Ft. Lauderdale. Rogue might be a
little disappointed o' course but I've seen her new bathing suit and I'm sure
there'll be some nice kid down there to help here get over it quickly."
Logan
had to bit back another chuckle as the Cajun's eyes went wide as saucers.
"Umm,
Logan, sir," John Allerdyce stepped in. "Could you give us a moment to discuss this please?'
"Sure
thing, kid." Logan turned so they
wouldn't see him smirking.
Damned kids. He could care less if they snuck out to go drinking but they put him in
a really bad position by letting themselves get caught. After all, he was the Big Bad Wolverine. When he growled, students cowered. How could he let this infraction slide
without some kinda punishment and still maintain his reputation? But narcing on them to One-Eye just went so
against his grain…
John
walked over to him. "Ok, we'll do
it," he said through gritted teeth.
Logan
pressed his lips together. Control, Logan,
control, he chanted to himself. He took
a few deep breaths and called on every Japanese meditation technique he'd ever
known, positive it was the only way he was going to make it through the
spectacle of three blottoed 20-year-olds trying to do Irish Step Dancing.
He
stepped back and crossed his arms. "I'm waiting."
The
three miserable boys looked sheepishly at each other. Bobby started to tentatively shuffle his feet along the grass,
followed reluctantly by the other two. Within seconds they were bouncing around like mutant dervishes on the
school lawn and Logan was positive he was going to rupture something from
holding in the laughter
Abruptly
however Bobby stopped dancing and doubled over in front of Logan. The other two stopped figuring if their
friend who got them into this mess wasn't going to dance then why should they.
Bobby
groaned and clutched his stomach.
"Umm,
Logan…I don't feel so good…"
Now
where had he heard that before? Oh
Jesus H. Christmas! No!
In
the blink of an eye the Drake kid was liberating his load of green Budweiser
all over Logan's new boots along with every other green thing he'd eaten that
day, including the green bagels the cook had made the lunch sandwiches on.
When
he was done the kid fell to his knees.
His
friends were torn between the need for self-preservation and their
loyalty. Fear keep them rooted to their
spots as they warily eyed Logan, trying to gauge what his reaction would be.
He
looked at them with narrowed eyes. "Get him the hell out of my sight," he growled.
His
tone of voice galvanized them into action. Taking Bobby under each arm they lead him around to the back door,
certain that anything Cyclops could do to them wouldn't be half as bad as
whatever the Wolverine now had in mind.
When
the door had shut behind the three boys Logan heard laughter erupt from
somewhere over his head. He peered into
the dim light and saw Scott and Jean's heads hanging out of a second story
window close by. Even with the glasses
Logan could see that Scott was laughing so hard tears were rolling down his
cheeks. Jean couldn't even speak for
lack of breath.
Scott
wiped his face. "You might want to
hose off before you come in Logan! Bobby puked up a lot of stuff!" His head disappeared back into the
window and then reappeared a second later. "Oh and we'll have to talk tomorrow about why you were out drinking
at The Auger Inn when you were supposed to be monitoring security."
Kiss
my shamrock, Cyke, Logan thought to himself before heading for the hose.