"Hello and welcome to Newbie-piece theater, I am your host, Sir Ray Anthony Crisp the third."
"Or you could just call him Crispy."
"Shut up Bobby, what are you doing here?"
"It's not Bobby, it's Master Robert William Drake the fourth."
"Huh?"
"Hey if you're allowed a crazy British name so am I."
"Fair enough."
"Jubes told me that we actually now had an official theater for stories just about us and I wanted to help host."
"Cool, cool, whatever. Yeah, Kelly thought we were being horrible gypped in the fandom here on ff.net and decided to rectify it."
"Rectify . . . heeheehee"
"Grow up."
"But it sounds like . . ."
*clamps a hand over Bobby's mouth* "Our first vignette of the series is "Pancakes" a narrative that delves deep into . . ."
"RECTUM."
"Roll the story!" *mutters* "I am working with chimps . . ."
::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::... .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. ..
"One . . . chorus line of people, dancing till they make us stop . . . Two . . ." Bobby inspected himself in the mirror, running the gel through his damp hair. Roberto appeared in the reflection behind him and began to sing along.
"Too many dancing people, covered in blood, gore and glop." Bobby smirked, his voice raising with Sunspot's in the silence of their shared room.
"Just one sniff of that fog and you're inside out. It's worse than that flesh eating you've read about! Vital Organs Are What We Are Dressed In. THE FAMILY DOG IS EYEING BART'S INTESTINE! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!" There was a loud bang on the wall they shared with perfect Ms. Grey, queen of all.
"Will you two shut up? It's 6 a.m. on a Saturday," came the telepathic yell.
Roberto shot a death glare at the wall. "Apparently the Scarlet Bitch isn't finished with her beauty sleep."
"That's gonna take a whole lotta sleepin'"
Sunspot snickered. Bobby couldn't think of anyone better to share a room with. They were both morning people, both avid fans of the Simpsons, both utterly devoted to annoying Jean Grey. . ."Wanna go make breakfast?"
"Pancakes?" And they both had an affinity for flat breakfast foods.
"You know it."
"You're on Da Costa."
*~*~*~*
Bobby melted the butter in the frying pan. You'd have thought that with all the high tech equipment they had here at the institute, they could've at least invested in a griddle, but unfortunately that was a big no. Roberto mixed the batter on the counter, humming to himself. "I love Saturday mornings. It's so peaceful and quiet . . ."
Rahne came skidding into the kitchen, Ray tailing close behind her. "Rahne, we are going to be in so much trouble if . . ." he looked up, a sheepish grin on his face, "Hey Bobby, Roberto . . ."
"Spoke too soon. What's going on 'Zerk?"
"Oh, nothing much . . .can we ask you a favor?"
Roberto raised his eyebrow skeptically. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"
"Well, you see," started Rahne, "you know how Ray and I snuck out last night?"
"Yeah."
"Well, apparently so did the professor," quipped Ray, rolling his eyes. "So we get to spend our Saturday morning raking leaves. From sunrise."
"You want us to help ya? No prob," volunteered Bobby. Roberto nodded in agreement. They'd do anything for each other.
"Well, you see, we already thought of asking for help. In fact we got Jamie . . ."
"Yeah?"
"In fact we got multiple Jamies . . . and now they're hungry."
"So? Just get 'em to merge back together and then feed the one."
"That's the problem, they won't. And there's like twenty of them."
Roberto blanched. "Oh."
"Yeah, oh. That's exactly what we said. They'd do it if Rahne hadn't given them sugar!"
"Hey, don't blame this on me Ray. How else was I supposed to coerce a twelve year out of bed at 4:30 in the morning?"
"I don't know. Sexual favors . . ."
"He's twelve Ray."
"Hey when I was twelve I . . ."
"Too much information, 'Zerk!" squealed Rahne, clamping her hands over her ears.
"Girls," he scoffed, turning back to Roberto and Bobby. "So can you guys just please help us feed them until they calm down enough to get back together."
"Yeah, I guess."
Ray smiled. "Thanks, we owe you." He yelled out the open door. "Alright Jamies, come on in." There was an eerie silence, "Jamies?"
"You lost them?"
Bobby, Roberto, Rahne, and Ray stepped out onto the back lawn, empty except for them. "Oh crap."
*~*~*~*
After chasing him for about seven minutes, Roberto managed to corner a Jamie near the tool shed. "Hey Jamie, what's up?"
"Rahne gave me chocolate and I ran away but now I'm cold and hungry andIjustwannagoinside." He began to cry.
"Hey little guy," soothed Sunspot, "It's alright, don't cry." He placed his hand on his shoulder and the little brown shag of hair bowed low, "It's going to be okay."
He heard the chilling rustle in the bushes behind him. Several Jamie's emerged from the brush, mud smeared in war-like streaks across their cheeks. The Jamie in his arms gave a low dark chuckle, "Get 'em, boys."
*~*~*~*
"Jamie . . ." Ray was perched precariously on a very thin tree limb in the institute forest, two Jamies watching him from the branches above with mad glints in their eyes. A very devious giggle overhead made him shudder. He hated heights, "If you come down we'll give you more candy . . ."
"But we like it up here."
"But it's also very fun on the ground." Where there's not the chance of falling and breaking your neck and dying a painful death.
"Ooo, look at the acorns."
*~*~*~*
Bobby found Roberto hog-tied near the back of the property. Apparently Sunspot had just as much luck as he had tracking down the infamous twelve-year old menaces. "What happened 'berto?" He asked, removing the gag.
"They're freaking evil! They surrounded me. It's like Lord of the Flies!"
"I know! I barely escaped with my life."
A loan moan to their right caused them both to turn suddenly. "Oh god it's them! Run like the wind!"
"Wait," came the plaintive call, "Help me." Ray lay twitching on the ground. "They pelted me with acorns until I fell out of the tree and then left me to die."
"Aren't you being a wee bit melodramatic Ray," quipped Rahne, joining their small and significantly beaten little group. "They're planning something though. They've congregated on the south grounds."
"Well, we're just going to have to outwit them," said Bobby, a plan already starting to form in his mind.
"Like Survivor?" asked Berserker, perking up.
"Yes Ray, like Survivor . . . maybe after we'll go for a nice little trip to the infirmary to check if you have a concussion."
"OooOooo painkillers . . . "
*~*~*~*
Jean Grey awoke to quiet snoring. She looked carefully around her room, trying to find the source of the noise. What the hell? Her bed sheets were smeared with a mysterious brown substance, which also appeared to be ground into her beige carpet and off white drapes. Chocolate? Oh God not her clothes . . .
Jean cringed, staring at the huddle of chocolate covered Jamie's sleeping in the bottom of her closet . . . using her cashmere sweaters as pillows. "NooooooOOooooOOoooooOoooooOOoo!"
Bobby, Ray, Roberto and Rahne sat at the kitchen table, calmly eating a stack of chocolate-chip pancakes as the anguished scream echoed down the hall. Ray nursed a bottle of aspirin. Bobby and Roberto grinned. "I wonder what her problem is."
::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::... .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. ..
"And that brings us to the close of tonight's installment of Newbie-piece Theater, join us next time when we will randomly celebrate Kelly's birthday, which is on December 7, and tell you another harrowing tale of life as a Newbie. Good night and good news."
"Ray, this isn't a news show."
"Shut up, do I tell you how to do your job?" *cries* "Can we edit that out?"
"Or you could just call him Crispy."
"Shut up Bobby, what are you doing here?"
"It's not Bobby, it's Master Robert William Drake the fourth."
"Huh?"
"Hey if you're allowed a crazy British name so am I."
"Fair enough."
"Jubes told me that we actually now had an official theater for stories just about us and I wanted to help host."
"Cool, cool, whatever. Yeah, Kelly thought we were being horrible gypped in the fandom here on ff.net and decided to rectify it."
"Rectify . . . heeheehee"
"Grow up."
"But it sounds like . . ."
*clamps a hand over Bobby's mouth* "Our first vignette of the series is "Pancakes" a narrative that delves deep into . . ."
"RECTUM."
"Roll the story!" *mutters* "I am working with chimps . . ."
::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::... .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. ..
"One . . . chorus line of people, dancing till they make us stop . . . Two . . ." Bobby inspected himself in the mirror, running the gel through his damp hair. Roberto appeared in the reflection behind him and began to sing along.
"Too many dancing people, covered in blood, gore and glop." Bobby smirked, his voice raising with Sunspot's in the silence of their shared room.
"Just one sniff of that fog and you're inside out. It's worse than that flesh eating you've read about! Vital Organs Are What We Are Dressed In. THE FAMILY DOG IS EYEING BART'S INTESTINE! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!" There was a loud bang on the wall they shared with perfect Ms. Grey, queen of all.
"Will you two shut up? It's 6 a.m. on a Saturday," came the telepathic yell.
Roberto shot a death glare at the wall. "Apparently the Scarlet Bitch isn't finished with her beauty sleep."
"That's gonna take a whole lotta sleepin'"
Sunspot snickered. Bobby couldn't think of anyone better to share a room with. They were both morning people, both avid fans of the Simpsons, both utterly devoted to annoying Jean Grey. . ."Wanna go make breakfast?"
"Pancakes?" And they both had an affinity for flat breakfast foods.
"You know it."
"You're on Da Costa."
*~*~*~*
Bobby melted the butter in the frying pan. You'd have thought that with all the high tech equipment they had here at the institute, they could've at least invested in a griddle, but unfortunately that was a big no. Roberto mixed the batter on the counter, humming to himself. "I love Saturday mornings. It's so peaceful and quiet . . ."
Rahne came skidding into the kitchen, Ray tailing close behind her. "Rahne, we are going to be in so much trouble if . . ." he looked up, a sheepish grin on his face, "Hey Bobby, Roberto . . ."
"Spoke too soon. What's going on 'Zerk?"
"Oh, nothing much . . .can we ask you a favor?"
Roberto raised his eyebrow skeptically. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"
"Well, you see," started Rahne, "you know how Ray and I snuck out last night?"
"Yeah."
"Well, apparently so did the professor," quipped Ray, rolling his eyes. "So we get to spend our Saturday morning raking leaves. From sunrise."
"You want us to help ya? No prob," volunteered Bobby. Roberto nodded in agreement. They'd do anything for each other.
"Well, you see, we already thought of asking for help. In fact we got Jamie . . ."
"Yeah?"
"In fact we got multiple Jamies . . . and now they're hungry."
"So? Just get 'em to merge back together and then feed the one."
"That's the problem, they won't. And there's like twenty of them."
Roberto blanched. "Oh."
"Yeah, oh. That's exactly what we said. They'd do it if Rahne hadn't given them sugar!"
"Hey, don't blame this on me Ray. How else was I supposed to coerce a twelve year out of bed at 4:30 in the morning?"
"I don't know. Sexual favors . . ."
"He's twelve Ray."
"Hey when I was twelve I . . ."
"Too much information, 'Zerk!" squealed Rahne, clamping her hands over her ears.
"Girls," he scoffed, turning back to Roberto and Bobby. "So can you guys just please help us feed them until they calm down enough to get back together."
"Yeah, I guess."
Ray smiled. "Thanks, we owe you." He yelled out the open door. "Alright Jamies, come on in." There was an eerie silence, "Jamies?"
"You lost them?"
Bobby, Roberto, Rahne, and Ray stepped out onto the back lawn, empty except for them. "Oh crap."
*~*~*~*
After chasing him for about seven minutes, Roberto managed to corner a Jamie near the tool shed. "Hey Jamie, what's up?"
"Rahne gave me chocolate and I ran away but now I'm cold and hungry andIjustwannagoinside." He began to cry.
"Hey little guy," soothed Sunspot, "It's alright, don't cry." He placed his hand on his shoulder and the little brown shag of hair bowed low, "It's going to be okay."
He heard the chilling rustle in the bushes behind him. Several Jamie's emerged from the brush, mud smeared in war-like streaks across their cheeks. The Jamie in his arms gave a low dark chuckle, "Get 'em, boys."
*~*~*~*
"Jamie . . ." Ray was perched precariously on a very thin tree limb in the institute forest, two Jamies watching him from the branches above with mad glints in their eyes. A very devious giggle overhead made him shudder. He hated heights, "If you come down we'll give you more candy . . ."
"But we like it up here."
"But it's also very fun on the ground." Where there's not the chance of falling and breaking your neck and dying a painful death.
"Ooo, look at the acorns."
*~*~*~*
Bobby found Roberto hog-tied near the back of the property. Apparently Sunspot had just as much luck as he had tracking down the infamous twelve-year old menaces. "What happened 'berto?" He asked, removing the gag.
"They're freaking evil! They surrounded me. It's like Lord of the Flies!"
"I know! I barely escaped with my life."
A loan moan to their right caused them both to turn suddenly. "Oh god it's them! Run like the wind!"
"Wait," came the plaintive call, "Help me." Ray lay twitching on the ground. "They pelted me with acorns until I fell out of the tree and then left me to die."
"Aren't you being a wee bit melodramatic Ray," quipped Rahne, joining their small and significantly beaten little group. "They're planning something though. They've congregated on the south grounds."
"Well, we're just going to have to outwit them," said Bobby, a plan already starting to form in his mind.
"Like Survivor?" asked Berserker, perking up.
"Yes Ray, like Survivor . . . maybe after we'll go for a nice little trip to the infirmary to check if you have a concussion."
"OooOooo painkillers . . . "
*~*~*~*
Jean Grey awoke to quiet snoring. She looked carefully around her room, trying to find the source of the noise. What the hell? Her bed sheets were smeared with a mysterious brown substance, which also appeared to be ground into her beige carpet and off white drapes. Chocolate? Oh God not her clothes . . .
Jean cringed, staring at the huddle of chocolate covered Jamie's sleeping in the bottom of her closet . . . using her cashmere sweaters as pillows. "NooooooOOooooOOoooooOoooooOOoo!"
Bobby, Ray, Roberto and Rahne sat at the kitchen table, calmly eating a stack of chocolate-chip pancakes as the anguished scream echoed down the hall. Ray nursed a bottle of aspirin. Bobby and Roberto grinned. "I wonder what her problem is."
::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::... .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. .. .. . . .. ..
"And that brings us to the close of tonight's installment of Newbie-piece Theater, join us next time when we will randomly celebrate Kelly's birthday, which is on December 7, and tell you another harrowing tale of life as a Newbie. Good night and good news."
"Ray, this isn't a news show."
"Shut up, do I tell you how to do your job?" *cries* "Can we edit that out?"