Summary: Did you ever wonder why Mystique changed her outfit (and overall look) between the first and second seasons of Evo? Because she was shanghaied by the crew of "What Not To Wear," of course!
Note 1: I am still working on "Princess" and other things for Project: Wagner (the new story will be up soon) but I needed a little break. And since I think Mystique is a feisty, arresting character, I figured she deserves a tribute of some sort. So this is it.
Note 2: "What Not To Wear" is a program on an American cable channel called TLC (The Learning Channel). It's a "make-over" show, where the cast basically grabs people (at the request of their friends) and helps them make over their entire wardrobes, make-up, etc. The bad side? The person has to completely change, which most people hate doing, just on principle. The good side? The person gets $5,000 to do it. Cha-CHING! The hosts that I'm using are the folks from the first season of "What Not To Wear." They are Stacy London and Wayne Scot Lucas, (who's a kick). The hairstylist is Nick Arrojo, and the make-up gal is Carmindy. Just Carmindy.
Rating: PG-13
Category: Humor
Warning: Everybody in this has been exaggerated, for humorous purposes. I like the Brotherhood --- don't think I don't. 'Kay?
Disclaimer: I claim nothing. And don't be dissin' da Fuzzy One, or I'll have to hit you with a Wiffle Bat. Forward, ho!!!
=== MYSTIQUE'S MISTAKE ===
The Brotherhood boys were all sitting around picking their noses when Toad suddenly had an idea.
"Hey! I got it! A'right, you know how Mystique's always complainin' 'bout Magneto not takin' her serious?"
"Yeah, what about it?" Lance asked.
"Well personally, ah am uv da opinion dat it's da way she dresses! We should write to dat show. That one on TLC --- Blob, whassit called?"
"What Not To Wear."
"Dat's it!"
They wanted to write to "What Not To Wear," but they couldn't find any stationery, or even a pen. So they called. And made a deal with the person on the other end of the phone. If the crew would come out and re-do Mystique, nothing bad would happen to WNTW headquarters --- like, let's say, a sudden earthquake.
"I think we made the lady on da other end cry, yo."
"Who cares? They're comin' ta fix up Mystique!" Lance yelled. "Yeah!"
That weekend, the Brotherhood lured Mystique out to the Bayville Bar and Grille, in her usual guise as Principal Darkholme. They bought her dinner. They bought her wine. She was finding all of this quite nice, if a little suspicious, but that was all. The video camera and flashing lights caught her completely unaware.
"Hi!" said a perky brunette with a wide, New York smile. "I'm Stacy London."
Mystique was surprised. She let out a battle cry and drop-kicked Stacy.
Stacy shook it off, peeled herself off the floor, and smiled again. The slightly chunky, long-haired man next to her introduced himself as Wayne, and shook Mystique's hand, much to her chagrin. Mystique almost threw him into the nearest table. Luckily, he let go.
"Anyway, your friends, these guys over here …" Stacy pointed at the Brotherhood, who all waved like idiots at the wobbly camera, "nominated you to get a make-over on What Not To Wear!"
"You BUFFOONS!" Mystique roared at the Brotherhood. "How DARE you insult my sense of style!" They all cringed.
Stacy seemed to be unaffected. She smiled again. "I know it's kind of a jolt. Of course, if you agree to let us make you over, you get a $5,000 shopping spree in New York City to re-make your whole wardrobe."
Mystique stopped raging and blinked at her. Never mind that this woman was the world's best shape-shifter, who could transform her entire appearance in the blink of an eye. Never mind that technically, she didn't need to wear clothes, or make-up.
"Fa-Fa-Five thousand dollars? Pretty things from New York City? All if I comply with your requests?" she said, a silly little grin coming to her face.
"Yes ma'am," Stacy said.
"Well! Sign me up!" Mystique replied. The hell with her abilities. 5,000 bucks just had too much appeal.
The Brotherhood all breathed a sigh of relief as Mystique was whisked away.
~*~X~*~
The first thing the "What Not To Wear" team did was to sit Mystique down and explain that they'd secretly been watching her for two weeks. A few unexplained things aside (like her turning into other people, or an owl, for example), they felt they had a handle on her.
Mystique watched in horror as she saw the video footage they'd gleaned. It was Toad, waving at the camera, and then positioning it in her luxurious bedroom, facing her closet. HER BEDROOM! HER CLOSET! That little insect was going to DIE when this was over, she'd make sure of that. Then, mortified, she saw herself shift from a tired Principal Darkholme to her true, blue, golden eyed self, her red hair in disarray, her white dress with the skulls on the hips slightly askew.
She glanced at Stacy and Wayne, who looked at her expectantly.
"Have you got something you want to show us?" Stacy prompted.
Mystique sighed. Perhaps she was tired of hiding. Perhaps she was feeling particularly stupid that afternoon. But whatever the reason, she shifted into her true form. Stacy and Wayne nodded, completely unperturbed. Either that, or they were heavily drugged. It was hard to tell. They all kept watching the video. When Mystique turned around from her closet and faced the camera, Wayne couldn't hold it in anymore. He had to comment --- and not about her blue skin.
"Oh my God, OH, MY, GOD," Wayne said, flapping his hands. "Honey Darling Sweetie Baby! You look like you crashed into a Halloween store! You know, those boys who called us up said you were always complaining that your boss didn't take you seriously. And I'm looking at this, and I'm like, 'DUH! HELLO-O!' This is why! It just screams, 'Mistake!' Loudly!"
Stacy giggled. Mystique folded her arms and "hmphed." They saw another bit of tape, this time from the bathroom. Mystique, still blue, was wearing an ugly, frilly, purple bathrobe and staring into the bathroom mirror, holding bobby pins in her mouth, trying to do something with her hair. It was too long, too thick, and too wavy. It framed her face all wrong. She roared in frustration, gave up, and shape-shifted into Darkholme.
"Don't worry," Stacy said. "We'll be doing something with this mane thing you have going on," she said, fingering Mystique's hair.
Mystique growled at her like a panther. Stacy's eyes went wide and she pulled away. "Whoo! Feisty!"
"And one last thing," Wayne said.
Another bit of tape, showing Mystique, getting ready for bed, wearing the world's ugliest granny nightgown.
"Oh!" Mystique shrieked, completely mortified. "Nobody knows I own that!"
"Don't worry, sweetheart, you WON'T own that after today!" Wayne said, putting an arm around a distinctly unhappy Mystique. "We're going to bring out the contents of your closet and throw out anything that doesn't work. Which, in your case, I think is pretty much going to be everything."
Mystique put her face in her hands and moaned. She wasn't sure whether to go through with this or just murder those four moronic worms under her command.
Want more? I'm kind of unsure about this, so let me know, folks. :D Thankies! Kiki
