Title:  The Taming of the Set (Sequel to Kiss Me, Kitty)

Authors:  Jocelyn, Navaeh, Sandy (jdog985@hotmail.com)

A/N:  And thus endeth the second installment of the X-Players!  See the note at the end if you want to see more rehearsals and preparations, or…perhaps…opening night?  ;-)

Disclaimer:  The X-men belong to Brian Singer and Marvel.  The Taming of the Shrew belongs to William Shakespeare (and I'm not making any more money than he is).

Scene II: Shoes, Screws, and Glue, oh my!

"No, absolutely not."

"But Mr. Summers…"

"Bobby, it's out of the question."

"Aw, come on!"

"We are NOT renting a mule for the wedding scene!"

"But it would be SO awesome!"

Scott sighed, "Bobby, first of all, I don't know where to get a mule.  Second of all, it would have to be housebroken.  And finally, what am I supposed to tell the Professor when he sees a mule walking down the hallway?"

"Uh, it's a new student?"  Cyclops raised his eyebrows, and Bobby said desperately, "You know, with morphing abilities…okay, that's a stretch."

"A stretch?  Bobby, I think there's a drill over there with your name on it."

"But Mr. Summers…" Scott just glared at him.  Bobby shrank away and glanced over his shoulder, "You're right!  That is my drill!  Going! Going now!"

Scott turned around and saw Jean leaning against the wall, her face red and her hand over her mouth to hide the fact that she was laughing hysterically.  "They've been going on and on about renting a mule ever since they started blocking the wedding scene."

"Why not just use one of our horses?" Jean asked playfully.

"Don't give 'em any ideas."

"Besides," Bobby piped up, "the doorway's too small!  We tried it!"

"Bobby!" Kitty exclaimed in outrage. "You weren't supposed to tell him!"

"Oops!"

Jean was laughing harder still.  Scott didn't even bother to turn around, although he looked like he wanted to thud his head against the wall.  "The life of a director is so trying, isn't it?" she teased.

"Oh, hush."

"Mr. Summers, what do you think of this costume?" Kitty's voice came from behind him.

Scott turned around.  Behind him, Jean muttered, "What on Earth…"

John was standing on top of a stool, wearing a makeshift doublet, tights, pointy shoes, and a stick-on gray beard.  "I say potbelly," Kitty said thoughtfully, eyeing the costume like a professional designer. "He says no potbelly.  What do you think?"

Jubilee walked into the room just then with Logan in tow. "I think he looks like a cross between Santa and one of his elves, and the potbelly's only gonna make it worse.  But, that's just my opinion; I'm certain your distinguished director knows best," Logan declared.

Scott slowly turned toward the door.  "I dunno, try the potbelly on Logan and then I'll tell you what I think."

Jubilee sighed. "Mr. Summers," she said, sounding disturbingly like a scolding teacher. "Would you PLEASE concentrate on the subject at hand?"

Logan recoiled from her. "My God, Cyke, she's starting to sound like you!  But no," he shook his head and grinned. "Even you wouldn't have said, 'We need help; get your ass in here,' now, would you?"

Perfectly deadpan, Scott replied, "No, I'd have said, 'We need help; get your sorry ass in here.'"

All activity in the immediate vicinity ceased.  Bobby dropped his drill.  Kitty leaned over to John, gaping, "Did he just…"

"He did!"

"Somebody, kill me now, I've seen it all!"

"Advantage Cyclops!" Rogue shouted, pumping her fist in the air.  Scott turned as if about to scold her and grinned instead. 

Jubilee managed to pull herself together and shouted, "Okay, show's over, everybody get back to work!" She pulled Logan onto the set by the sleeve of his jacket and promptly put him to work cutting plywood for the outside of Baptista's house with his claws.

John sat down on the stool and put his head in his hand. "Oh, jeez.  Well, at least I'm not working on set," he added as Bobby bent yet another screw.

"No, but you are working on costumes!  Now get back up there!" Kitty ordered.

"Help!"

"Oh, and Kitty?" Scott added sternly.

"Yes?"

"Go with the potbelly."

Kitty grinned and saluted. "Yes sir, Mr. Director, sir!"

John gazed at the doublet with a critical eye, "Do you really think this is my color?"

Kitty stepped back and frowned. "We could always switch yours and Sam's, but you won't fit in his shoes."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Then the shoes won't match!"

"Too small or too big?" Rogue asked, climbing up a ladder to screw a lightbulb into the ceiling. 

"Too big," Kitty murmured, staring at the shoes as if trying to make them shrink.

Rogue sat on the top rung thoughtfully. "Stuff Sam's with tissue paper and then John can wear 'em."

"What about Sam?"

"Use a shoe horn!"

"A what?"

"Just trust me," she said, then resumed her work.

John threw up his hands, causing Kitty to make a growling noise at him and pull his arm back down to add a ruffle to the sleeve, "Why don't we just rename this thing 'The Taming of the Shoes!'"

"More like 'The Taming of the Screw,'" Bobby groaned and his drill slipped, adding an unexpected hole to part of the flat.

"I vote for 'The Taming of the Glue!'" Jubilee suggested, her hands all sticky with paper mache.

"My money's on 'The Taming of the Crew,'" Scott murmured in Jean's ear as they watched.

"Get up there and direct," she said playfully.

"They're doing just fine without me."

"Hey, Rogue!" Sam shouted up to Rogue on her ladder, "How many X-men does it take to screw in a—"

"Shut up!"

Scott glanced back at Jean. "On second thought, maybe they could use a hand."

~Fin~

Thou wouldst not deprive me of the pleasure of thy reviews if thou were gentlemen (and ladies.)  And if ye bid me present thee with further tales of the adventures of the X-Players, I bid thee make thy sentiments known, for there art yet remaining many exploits as our learned director and his troupe continue their journey towardst opening night!