Yeah, that's right, Puke and Doodles. Just keep reading, you'll understand.
Disclaimer- is pretty pointless; you know the drill.
To SickmindedSucker: They're GUYS. GUYS don't do that kind of thing. GUYS are too manly for that. Weird. Thank you for telling your friend about the story! Woot!
As for the rest of you reviewers: If you want me to write back, then you'd better start saying something interesting. But thanks for all of the commiserations about scary refrigerators. They seem to be a nation-wide epidemic. 8*******************************8************************************8 The volume of the TV was up so high to drown out the possibility of St. John hurling that Remy and Piotr were both completely unaware that they had woken Sabertooth up. Before either had a chance to defend themselves, the big- sleep deprived- mutant was throwing furnisher across the room. Both Acolytes jumped up and faced their "teammate."
John walked in to see Piotr and Remy fighting with a _very_ pissed off Sabertooth. With no further ado, the Aussie strode over to the attacker, looked Victor straight in the eye, and tossed his chunks on him. Sabertooth was smacked by the smell and stumbled out of the TV room, tearing his stinky vomit shirt off as he went.
Remy and Piotr just looked at each other. Remy shrugged as if to say, I doan' know where it came from, but doan' look a gift horse in de mout'.
Pyro smiled blearily before up-chucking on the carpet. Piotr sighed and took John to his room and ordered him not to come out until he was feeling better. Remy got a garbage can, a bowl of cold water, and a rag and left them with John, trusting him to take care of his own damn self.
When they'd left St. John with these amenities (no way were they going to treat him like a sick woman; he'd probably take it as a come on) the two Acolytes looked at the mess they were stuck with. Piotr chose that moment to say something really wise:
"Not it."
"_I'm_ not cleanin' it up!" Remy shot back.
"If it was mine," Piotr said, "I would take my responsibility and clean it up, but it is not."
"I repeat, homme, it ain't goan' be me."
They both stayed quiet for a minute trying to think of a way to get out of their situation.
"Just throw a towel over it or something, at least," Colossus suggested.
So that was the extent of their clean up process. They threw one of St. John's own towels over the spot on the rug. It was an interesting greenish color and stunk to high heaven.
"Wish we had some Fabreez or sumn'," Remy complained.
"Yes, the smell is impressive," Piotr agreed. "Let us go back to the kitchen. I do not want to stay in the same room with it."
"Good idea. Mebe we'll t'ink o' sumn' t' do while we're in dere."
(2:30 PM) Remy was idly shuffling a deck of cards at the kitchen table. Piotr looked ready to shove the deck into one of Remy's orifices; it didn't really matter which one.
"Stop that."
Remy did. For about a second. Then he went back to shuffling, but now he had a purpose: annoying Piotr. You gotta take your kicks where you can get 'em. Piotr flinched as Remy resumed shuffling his cards. In an attempt to not kill him, which would probably make Magneto angry, he started doodling on paper towels. In one of them was the cute little X-girl with the pony tail. It wasn't exactly the love affair of the century, but she made a good subject. The other was a cartoon of Remy getting blown up by one of his own cards.
After a bit, Remy stopped his shuffling. It wasn't as much fun if Piotr was going to ignore his efforts. Instead, the board young man went to hover over Colossus' shoulder, trying to see what he'd drawn.
Piotr noticed and was immediately annoyed again. He stood up to stare down the shorter Cajun. Remy stared back
To SickmindedSucker: They're GUYS. GUYS don't do that kind of thing. GUYS are too manly for that. Weird. Thank you for telling your friend about the story! Woot!
As for the rest of you reviewers: If you want me to write back, then you'd better start saying something interesting. But thanks for all of the commiserations about scary refrigerators. They seem to be a nation-wide epidemic. 8*******************************8************************************8 The volume of the TV was up so high to drown out the possibility of St. John hurling that Remy and Piotr were both completely unaware that they had woken Sabertooth up. Before either had a chance to defend themselves, the big- sleep deprived- mutant was throwing furnisher across the room. Both Acolytes jumped up and faced their "teammate."
John walked in to see Piotr and Remy fighting with a _very_ pissed off Sabertooth. With no further ado, the Aussie strode over to the attacker, looked Victor straight in the eye, and tossed his chunks on him. Sabertooth was smacked by the smell and stumbled out of the TV room, tearing his stinky vomit shirt off as he went.
Remy and Piotr just looked at each other. Remy shrugged as if to say, I doan' know where it came from, but doan' look a gift horse in de mout'.
Pyro smiled blearily before up-chucking on the carpet. Piotr sighed and took John to his room and ordered him not to come out until he was feeling better. Remy got a garbage can, a bowl of cold water, and a rag and left them with John, trusting him to take care of his own damn self.
When they'd left St. John with these amenities (no way were they going to treat him like a sick woman; he'd probably take it as a come on) the two Acolytes looked at the mess they were stuck with. Piotr chose that moment to say something really wise:
"Not it."
"_I'm_ not cleanin' it up!" Remy shot back.
"If it was mine," Piotr said, "I would take my responsibility and clean it up, but it is not."
"I repeat, homme, it ain't goan' be me."
They both stayed quiet for a minute trying to think of a way to get out of their situation.
"Just throw a towel over it or something, at least," Colossus suggested.
So that was the extent of their clean up process. They threw one of St. John's own towels over the spot on the rug. It was an interesting greenish color and stunk to high heaven.
"Wish we had some Fabreez or sumn'," Remy complained.
"Yes, the smell is impressive," Piotr agreed. "Let us go back to the kitchen. I do not want to stay in the same room with it."
"Good idea. Mebe we'll t'ink o' sumn' t' do while we're in dere."
(2:30 PM) Remy was idly shuffling a deck of cards at the kitchen table. Piotr looked ready to shove the deck into one of Remy's orifices; it didn't really matter which one.
"Stop that."
Remy did. For about a second. Then he went back to shuffling, but now he had a purpose: annoying Piotr. You gotta take your kicks where you can get 'em. Piotr flinched as Remy resumed shuffling his cards. In an attempt to not kill him, which would probably make Magneto angry, he started doodling on paper towels. In one of them was the cute little X-girl with the pony tail. It wasn't exactly the love affair of the century, but she made a good subject. The other was a cartoon of Remy getting blown up by one of his own cards.
After a bit, Remy stopped his shuffling. It wasn't as much fun if Piotr was going to ignore his efforts. Instead, the board young man went to hover over Colossus' shoulder, trying to see what he'd drawn.
Piotr noticed and was immediately annoyed again. He stood up to stare down the shorter Cajun. Remy stared back