=How To Get Out Of Jail For Dummies (literally) =
AN ~ I have so much homework in front of me right now that I feel like falling over and twitching. . . But I decided to write this anyway (I can always pull a late-nighter). I've also found myself reading Harry Potter fics. . . which is HIGHLY uncharacteristic of me (I swear, with the amount of people talking about the new book that it's been poisoning my mind).
My thanks to the two reviewers that told me who died (even though I kinda found out on my own). I personally don't care that he died. . . I don't get why people insist on moping (he's FICTIONAL people! Therefore he CAN'T die. . . because he's not alive in the first place. Logical enough?)
People also seem to want to kill me after I'd accidentally spilled the spaghetti sauce on who died. . . weird. . .
Disclaimer ~ Me not own. . .
*****
*Location ~ Bayvill Police station*
In all my juvenile experiences, I've seen my fair amount of jails (On TV. . . what, you didn't expect me to have BEEN in jail before did you?). Rusty iron bars, high tech stainless steel, key-card entry expensive chrome, let's just say there's a LOT to choose from, (my personal favorite being the magnetic force-field ones).
Unfortunately, when you're the one getting arrested, the style of your holding cell has already been predetermined for you.
In Lance Alvers' case, he was stuck in a police station with a budget seemingly equivalent to my high school's.
(AN: Ahem. . . that metaphor wasn't entirely correct. . . uh, my high school is quite nicely funded by our er. . . efficient government system *shifty eyes*)
But why would a town swarming with mutants have such low levels of security you ask? Shouldn't they at least get decent funds? Well. . . Because I haven't started taking civics classes yet, don't expect answers anytime soon.
Back to the description and the décor of the cell:
The little room was damp and musty, and the overflowing toilet in the corner did not improve the image on the level of hygiene. There were the standardized bars and everything but next to that, there wasn't much difference from the brotherhoods' place.
If all of the above didn't get to Lance, it was the thought that he'd actually been arrested for stealing spoons. . . which he didn't steal. To tell the truth, he was beginning to think that the whole of Bayvill was a secret containment for nut-cases. It didn't help lift any of his suspicions when Lance saw an officer accidentally set a felon free because he was trying to read the new Harry Potter book and hand-cuff the criminal at the same time.
Lance was contemplating the best way to break down the cell wall without causing the ceiling to crash down on him when. . . the rest of the 'hood showed up, looking like demented superheros as they posed just inside the front entrance.
Avalanche swore under his breath. . . he could've gotten out of this loony bin and no one would've stopped him. He almost cried.
"Why?! Why is it every time there's finally an exit out of this life that my friends come and spoil it?" Lance said sadly to himself in a soft voice.
"Did you say something Lance?" Pietro zipped up to his cell.
Lance stared blankly at the rest of the 'Hood, who were systematically trashing the place. Todd strayed too close to one of Wanda's hex-bolts and was accidentally (I think) thrown against the bars.
"What are you doing?" Lance asked Todd, the only one not currently on rampage.
"Rubbing my sore ass. What does it look like?" Todd replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
'Lunatics, every one of them.' Lance thought to himself. Unaware of his hypocriticalness, he waved towards the direction of the general destruction "That's not what I meant! What's with all that?"
Todd rolled his eyes "We're getting you outta jail. Duh." He held up a book "And ta make sure we didn't screw it up, we even looked up reference material."
'How To Break A Mate Out Of Jail For Dummies. 2003 edition' was the title.
"You'd be surprised at how many categories it comes in."
(Note: It is at this point of writing when I think my IQ had dropped 20 points)
"So. . . the book told you guys to do all that?" Lance pointed at Pietro, who had stolen an officer's Harry Potter book and was reading it at superspeed (Yes, the Pottermaniacs have infected my mind)
"Well. . . no. . . He just had a lot of caffeine. . ."
By then, the entire Bayvill police force (of two) was pretty much unconscious.
"Ok, that's the first part done. What does the book say now?" Fred said as he walked up to Toad the book-bearer along with the rest of the team.
Todd flipped through some pages. "It's not here." He frowned.
"What's not here?" Pietro put down the HP book and ran up to Toad's side.
Todd flipped through some more pages "It's ripped out. We're missing an entire chapter."
Pietro and Todd stared at a section of the book that wasn't there.
"So. . . any suggestions?"
Blinks were shared around the room. Except for Wanda, who rolled her eyes and bent the bars with her powers.
"There's your missing plan. Now lets get out."
~~~~~~~~~
*Location ~ Acolytes HQ*
"I bet you're all wondering why I called you here today." Magneto announced to his loyal lackeys.
"No. Not really." John replied.
"We have a meeting every week." Victor stated.
"So we pretty much know what to expect." Remy added.
"It would save so much time if you'd just make a newsletter." Piotr continued "We do not discuss much durink meetinks anyway."
"So what's the point?" Jason concluded.
Magneto shook his head, spraying Victor and Piotr with his dandruff. "The point of this meeting is. . . it's that time of the month again."
The Acolytes (minus Mags) groaned.
"Really? Time seems to past so fast."
"Not this again. . ."
"Remy could've sworn it's only been three weeks."
"I can't believe it's time for. . ."
"Plotting Evil." They all answered in unison.
Magneto looked hurt "Don't you like my planning sessions?"
"Well. . ." Mastermind trailed off "It's not so much the planning that we hate. . . it's the part when the plan gets screwed sideways and we get our butts kicked *again* that worries us."
"And why do WE always have to be the one to come up with the plot? Can't the X-men do it for once?"
This, ladies and gentlemen, will be our only insightful comment of today (courtesy of Pyro).
Their fearless leader frowned "Because we're the bad guys! Ever heard a story where the side of evil didn't start the plot? And ever heard of a story without a plot?"
Er. . . yes?
"But why do we always lose?" Pyro wasn't about to give up his argument. "Isn't it a bit stupid to plan something just to make the good guys look better?"
Mags banged his fist on the table, making the rest of the Acolytes jump at his action.
"Sorry, had to squish that bug." Erik said sheepishly as he wiped his hand on Gambit's coat. "Back to the discussion. I'll tell you why we plan! We plan for the sake of evil! We plan for the hope that maybe, just maybe, we'll break free of the popular cliché where good always wins! We'll, we'll use. . ." His eyes sparkled as an idea emerged "Rabid Rubber Ducks!"
A giant sign with the word 'cliché' painted across fell from the general direction of upwards.
The Acolytes blinked. Not so much because of the sign, but because they were wondering how Magneto would get his hands on rabid rubber ducks.
Magneto read the sign "Fine. Erm. . . how about headless chickens?"
*Bang* went another sign.
"A swarm of kangaroos?"
*Smash*
"Rats?"
*Boom*
"Paperclips?"
*Clunk*
The master of magnetism was starting to get annoyed "Ok, how about death by cliché signs?"
There was a pause before -
*Crash* A much larger sign broke the table. It said: 'Don't steal my ideas'.
Magneto looked at his amused lackeys "Any of you have a bright suggestion?"
~~~~~~~~~
*Location ~ Brotherhood Boarding House*
"So, Lance, tell us again why you got arrested?" Fred asked apprehensively as Lance paced around the living room. Every once so often he would let loose a small quake to remind the Brotherhood that he was still very, very angry. (Notice the repetition? Yep, Lance = angry)
"I was FRAMED!" He shouted, "SOMEONE EVIL WANTED TO PERPETRATE ME AS A CRIMINAL!"
"Have ya eaten something odd lately?"
He ignored Todd "They must've been a mutant to be able to manipulate spoons like that. . ." Lance muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear.
By now the Brotherhood was beginning to get a little scared.
"I know! It's must've been a mutant with the ability to control plastic! Some sort of Plastic-Man!"
Wanda raised an eyebrow as Lance went on about this 'Plastic Man' and how he was going to hunt him down. "Should I talk some sense into him? Maybe hex him unconscious?"
Pietro raised his index finger to his lips "No way! This is the first plot siting of the entire story. If it wasn't for this, we wouldn't be in this fic at all!"
Wanda silently agreed. A plot. Surely that wasn't too much to ask. . . right?
*****
Shock! Horror! A plot?
No. Not even close *insert evil laughter*
Yes I'm still busy. I just started taekwondo lessons and I STILL have one more project due. I do however, have a two week winter holiday starting next week so I'll do more writing then
-Rubber Duki
AN ~ I have so much homework in front of me right now that I feel like falling over and twitching. . . But I decided to write this anyway (I can always pull a late-nighter). I've also found myself reading Harry Potter fics. . . which is HIGHLY uncharacteristic of me (I swear, with the amount of people talking about the new book that it's been poisoning my mind).
My thanks to the two reviewers that told me who died (even though I kinda found out on my own). I personally don't care that he died. . . I don't get why people insist on moping (he's FICTIONAL people! Therefore he CAN'T die. . . because he's not alive in the first place. Logical enough?)
People also seem to want to kill me after I'd accidentally spilled the spaghetti sauce on who died. . . weird. . .
Disclaimer ~ Me not own. . .
*****
*Location ~ Bayvill Police station*
In all my juvenile experiences, I've seen my fair amount of jails (On TV. . . what, you didn't expect me to have BEEN in jail before did you?). Rusty iron bars, high tech stainless steel, key-card entry expensive chrome, let's just say there's a LOT to choose from, (my personal favorite being the magnetic force-field ones).
Unfortunately, when you're the one getting arrested, the style of your holding cell has already been predetermined for you.
In Lance Alvers' case, he was stuck in a police station with a budget seemingly equivalent to my high school's.
(AN: Ahem. . . that metaphor wasn't entirely correct. . . uh, my high school is quite nicely funded by our er. . . efficient government system *shifty eyes*)
But why would a town swarming with mutants have such low levels of security you ask? Shouldn't they at least get decent funds? Well. . . Because I haven't started taking civics classes yet, don't expect answers anytime soon.
Back to the description and the décor of the cell:
The little room was damp and musty, and the overflowing toilet in the corner did not improve the image on the level of hygiene. There were the standardized bars and everything but next to that, there wasn't much difference from the brotherhoods' place.
If all of the above didn't get to Lance, it was the thought that he'd actually been arrested for stealing spoons. . . which he didn't steal. To tell the truth, he was beginning to think that the whole of Bayvill was a secret containment for nut-cases. It didn't help lift any of his suspicions when Lance saw an officer accidentally set a felon free because he was trying to read the new Harry Potter book and hand-cuff the criminal at the same time.
Lance was contemplating the best way to break down the cell wall without causing the ceiling to crash down on him when. . . the rest of the 'hood showed up, looking like demented superheros as they posed just inside the front entrance.
Avalanche swore under his breath. . . he could've gotten out of this loony bin and no one would've stopped him. He almost cried.
"Why?! Why is it every time there's finally an exit out of this life that my friends come and spoil it?" Lance said sadly to himself in a soft voice.
"Did you say something Lance?" Pietro zipped up to his cell.
Lance stared blankly at the rest of the 'Hood, who were systematically trashing the place. Todd strayed too close to one of Wanda's hex-bolts and was accidentally (I think) thrown against the bars.
"What are you doing?" Lance asked Todd, the only one not currently on rampage.
"Rubbing my sore ass. What does it look like?" Todd replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
'Lunatics, every one of them.' Lance thought to himself. Unaware of his hypocriticalness, he waved towards the direction of the general destruction "That's not what I meant! What's with all that?"
Todd rolled his eyes "We're getting you outta jail. Duh." He held up a book "And ta make sure we didn't screw it up, we even looked up reference material."
'How To Break A Mate Out Of Jail For Dummies. 2003 edition' was the title.
"You'd be surprised at how many categories it comes in."
(Note: It is at this point of writing when I think my IQ had dropped 20 points)
"So. . . the book told you guys to do all that?" Lance pointed at Pietro, who had stolen an officer's Harry Potter book and was reading it at superspeed (Yes, the Pottermaniacs have infected my mind)
"Well. . . no. . . He just had a lot of caffeine. . ."
By then, the entire Bayvill police force (of two) was pretty much unconscious.
"Ok, that's the first part done. What does the book say now?" Fred said as he walked up to Toad the book-bearer along with the rest of the team.
Todd flipped through some pages. "It's not here." He frowned.
"What's not here?" Pietro put down the HP book and ran up to Toad's side.
Todd flipped through some more pages "It's ripped out. We're missing an entire chapter."
Pietro and Todd stared at a section of the book that wasn't there.
"So. . . any suggestions?"
Blinks were shared around the room. Except for Wanda, who rolled her eyes and bent the bars with her powers.
"There's your missing plan. Now lets get out."
~~~~~~~~~
*Location ~ Acolytes HQ*
"I bet you're all wondering why I called you here today." Magneto announced to his loyal lackeys.
"No. Not really." John replied.
"We have a meeting every week." Victor stated.
"So we pretty much know what to expect." Remy added.
"It would save so much time if you'd just make a newsletter." Piotr continued "We do not discuss much durink meetinks anyway."
"So what's the point?" Jason concluded.
Magneto shook his head, spraying Victor and Piotr with his dandruff. "The point of this meeting is. . . it's that time of the month again."
The Acolytes (minus Mags) groaned.
"Really? Time seems to past so fast."
"Not this again. . ."
"Remy could've sworn it's only been three weeks."
"I can't believe it's time for. . ."
"Plotting Evil." They all answered in unison.
Magneto looked hurt "Don't you like my planning sessions?"
"Well. . ." Mastermind trailed off "It's not so much the planning that we hate. . . it's the part when the plan gets screwed sideways and we get our butts kicked *again* that worries us."
"And why do WE always have to be the one to come up with the plot? Can't the X-men do it for once?"
This, ladies and gentlemen, will be our only insightful comment of today (courtesy of Pyro).
Their fearless leader frowned "Because we're the bad guys! Ever heard a story where the side of evil didn't start the plot? And ever heard of a story without a plot?"
Er. . . yes?
"But why do we always lose?" Pyro wasn't about to give up his argument. "Isn't it a bit stupid to plan something just to make the good guys look better?"
Mags banged his fist on the table, making the rest of the Acolytes jump at his action.
"Sorry, had to squish that bug." Erik said sheepishly as he wiped his hand on Gambit's coat. "Back to the discussion. I'll tell you why we plan! We plan for the sake of evil! We plan for the hope that maybe, just maybe, we'll break free of the popular cliché where good always wins! We'll, we'll use. . ." His eyes sparkled as an idea emerged "Rabid Rubber Ducks!"
A giant sign with the word 'cliché' painted across fell from the general direction of upwards.
The Acolytes blinked. Not so much because of the sign, but because they were wondering how Magneto would get his hands on rabid rubber ducks.
Magneto read the sign "Fine. Erm. . . how about headless chickens?"
*Bang* went another sign.
"A swarm of kangaroos?"
*Smash*
"Rats?"
*Boom*
"Paperclips?"
*Clunk*
The master of magnetism was starting to get annoyed "Ok, how about death by cliché signs?"
There was a pause before -
*Crash* A much larger sign broke the table. It said: 'Don't steal my ideas'.
Magneto looked at his amused lackeys "Any of you have a bright suggestion?"
~~~~~~~~~
*Location ~ Brotherhood Boarding House*
"So, Lance, tell us again why you got arrested?" Fred asked apprehensively as Lance paced around the living room. Every once so often he would let loose a small quake to remind the Brotherhood that he was still very, very angry. (Notice the repetition? Yep, Lance = angry)
"I was FRAMED!" He shouted, "SOMEONE EVIL WANTED TO PERPETRATE ME AS A CRIMINAL!"
"Have ya eaten something odd lately?"
He ignored Todd "They must've been a mutant to be able to manipulate spoons like that. . ." Lance muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear.
By now the Brotherhood was beginning to get a little scared.
"I know! It's must've been a mutant with the ability to control plastic! Some sort of Plastic-Man!"
Wanda raised an eyebrow as Lance went on about this 'Plastic Man' and how he was going to hunt him down. "Should I talk some sense into him? Maybe hex him unconscious?"
Pietro raised his index finger to his lips "No way! This is the first plot siting of the entire story. If it wasn't for this, we wouldn't be in this fic at all!"
Wanda silently agreed. A plot. Surely that wasn't too much to ask. . . right?
*****
Shock! Horror! A plot?
No. Not even close *insert evil laughter*
Yes I'm still busy. I just started taekwondo lessons and I STILL have one more project due. I do however, have a two week winter holiday starting next week so I'll do more writing then
-Rubber Duki