DISCLAIMER: Marvel ain't mine...nor are any of the characters, and I surely don't profit from them. I'm doing this under the umbrella of the Fair Use of Copyrighted Materials, as this is written for my personal use and enjoyment.

NOTE: This is the first fanfiction I've ever shared with anyone other than my spouse. I figured I couldn't humiliate myself TOO much in 100 words. Enjoy.  It's in response to Eiluned's 'Drabble Challenge', which was to write a piece approximately 100 words long, beginning with the diaglogue:  "Trust me.  I know what I'm doing."  For what it's worth, I was pleased to see that this is precisely 100 words long.


GOOD IDEA, BAD IDEA


"Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

Herman didn't have eyebrows. If he had, he would've raised them.  The Professor said Quentin had so many brilliant thoughts, he couldn't keep track of them. But this?

"I dunno, Quentin. I don't think this is a good idea..."

Quentin Quire impatiently flapped his hand at his friend and peeked over the edge of the balcony down at the five blonde girls sitting on the cobblestones below.

"How is this not a good idea, Herman? There are five hot girls in white t-shirts down there and we have a bucket of cold water."