"This…" With despair etched across his face, Evan Daniels pressed against the glass wall of his containment cell. Stationed all over the room beyond, armed guards were standing at the ready. The center of the room contained a glassed off research center, where Wolverine was laid across and strapped down on a cross-like medical table. The restrained mutant was struggling sporadically, and both doctors and guards were bustling around him. The outer wall of the room was bordered by holding cells similar to the one Evan was in. In various cells, he could see the Beast, Rogue, and the Blob. Evan frantically shook his head. "This just can't be happening!"
"Ah, cheer up Evan."
Evan pulled back with a start. "Who said that?"
"Just me, Evan," replied the crackly voice. "Over here. I'm Morph. Guess we're neighbors, now, eh?"
Pressing his face against the glass, Evan tired to look at the cell next to him, and was barely able to make out a figure. Catching his glance, the figure waved. Morph was a white male, about 5'-8" with athletic build and greenish brown hair, and was dressed in a bright blue and yellow jumpsuit.
"So, you're a mutant, eh? Where brings ya here?" Morph cordially continued. "Don't normally get too many visitors coming to see me…" Morph laughed at his own joke, causing Evan to flinching away.
"The government captured me," Evan dryly informed. He gestured across the room. "And some of my friends. A Sentinel blasted us."
"Oh, I know that feels," responded Morph, letting the words roll of his tongue. "Kinda sucks, doesn't it? But hey, it means I get to see Rogue again! And Logan! Boy, I've missed those guys…"
Evan blinked, shocked at Morph's lighthearted tone. "What are you saying?!" Evan pounded on the glass wall in frustration. "How can you sound happy about this?!"
Leaning against the wall of his own cell, Morph smirked. "Ah, lighten up Evan. You know what they say…"
As Morph trailed off, some opening notes from a piano played through the cell's intercom system. Evan glanced around in surprise.
"Soooome things in life are bad," continued Morph, almost casually. "They can really make you mad… Other things can make you swear and curse… When you're chewin' on life's gristle, don't grumble," Morph paused for a moment. "Give a whistle. And this'll…" Morph's voice grew stronger as he drew out the last words. "…Help things turn out for the bee—eeest…"
Evan stared out his cell in disbelief.
"And…" Morph paused for the briefest of moments, before the piano quickened its tempo and jumping into the main rhythm. "Alwa-ays look on the brii—iiight si-ide of life."
A guard standing near Evan's cell whistled a counterpoint melody. Evan stared.
"Always look on the li—ight side of life…" Continued Morph, not missing a beat.
Several more guards joined in whistling the counterpoint.
"If life seems jolly rotten, then there's something you've forgotten…" Morph let his voice bounce over the words. "And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing… When you're feeling in the dumps, do-oon't be silly, chumps! Just purse you lips and twittle, that's the thing…
"And…"
"Al-ways looks on the bri—iight si-ide of life," sang Morph and several nearby guards. The counterpoint was whistled by nearly every guard in the room.
"C'mon," encouraged Morph, noticing that Evan wasn't joining in.
"Al-ways looks on the bri—iight si-ide of life."
The whistled counterpoint line dominated the room.
"For life is quite absurd," continued Morph after the refrain. "And death's the final word. You must always face the cur-tain with a bow… Forget about your sin, give the audience a grin!" Morph made gestures and winked at Evan. "Enjoy it, it's you last chance in the house…
"So…"
The guards again joined in for the refrain. "Al-ways look on the bri—iight side of death." In the center of the room, Evan saw Wolverine whistling and nodding his head to the rhythm. "Just be-fore you draw your ter-min-al breathe…" Evan looked up and saw that the other incarcerated X-Men had also joined in.
"Life's a piece of shit," flatly stated Morph. "When you look at it. Life's a laugh and death's a joke its true…" The mutant smiled and pointed towards Evan. "But you'll see its all a show, keep them laug-hing as you go. Just remem-ber that the last laugh is on yoo—oou…
"And…"
"Al-ways look on the bri—iight side of life…" A violin elaboration of the counterpoint line played through the intercom. "Al-ways look on the bri—iight side of life…" Evan stared blankly out his cell as the room bobbed their collective heads to the whistled counterpoint.
The music modulated slightly. "Al-ways look on the bri—iight side of life," the chorus repeated, slightly louder. The counterpoint followed. "Al-ways look on the bri—iight side of life…"
"Come on Evan," commented Morph during the counterpoint.
"Al-ways look on the bri—iight side of life…" The counterpoint was whistled as usual. Morph joined back in the chorus for a line. "Al-ways look on the bri—iight side of life…"
"Hey, you still got a few good scenes, right?" Suggested Morph, grinning to himself.
Evan stared blankly as the rest of the room continued mindlessly repeating the chorus,
"I mean, what can you loose?" Continued Morph. "You were based on nothing, you'll go back to nothing. What've ya lost? No-thing!" Finished Morph before Evan could respond. "Nothing will come from nothing, you know…"
"I must have gotten a concussion," concluded Evan.
Morph laughed. "Aw, cheer up you old bugger. C'mon, give us a grin…"
Evan glanced around the room, wondering if he was loosing his mind.
"There you are!" Finished Morph, misinterpreting Evan's action. "See? In the film!" Morph cocked his head to the side and started talking to no one in particular. "Incidentally, his story is available on DVD. Yeah, Mutants Rising, you know…"
Morph glanced back at Evan "Hey, how much are you getting paid for that? Percentage? Cut of the net?"
Evan leaned his head against the front of his cell in resignation.
"Hope you are," continued Morph, speaking quietly now. "'Cause you'll never see money from anywhere else. Well, maybe you'll get a figure cut, but they'll never put you in the comics. Keep you out of the movies too…"
Morph sighed as the rest of the room continued singing. "Not that the comics matter now much anyway. The top ones are only selling what? Hundred thousand? Hundred-ten? They'll never make any money off that.
"I tried to talk to the Editor-In-Chief the other day," continued Morph, regardless of the fact that Evan had long since ceased listening. "'Joey,' I said to him, 'you'll never make any money that way. You've got go back to the newsstand. That's the only place new readers are…' He didn't do anything though. Just looked through me, like I was just some half-bit character rambling on about not being used enough…"
Evan began bashing his head against the wall, and continued doing so until the music faded away…
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