Sorry, despite popular demand, this fic is being continued, not delayed.
There was a little misunderstanding. So, here, slightly earlier than
expected, is the next chapter. It's a little humorous, I'm sorry, I
couldn't resist, but it's still relevant.
What? Why are you staring at me like that, why are y- Oh, I don't own nothing.
&&&&&&
"You're wrong!" Pietro snapped.
"No I'm not!" Freddy yelled back.
"You're both wrong!" Todd hollered at the two of them.
"Why am I forced to live with such imbeciles?" Wanda muttered, rubbing the ridge of her nose wearily.
"I've asked that question many a time." Lance replied, and took a sip of his drink.
"Look, it's obvious that I'm right." Pietro said, waving his arms unconsciously. "How on earth can you say otherwise?"
"Let me see," Todd said pulling a parody of someone looking thoughtful. "Oh, I know. BECAUSE YOU'RE WRONG!"
"Oh, that's rich!" Freddy chortled. "Listen, you are both wrong, and I am right!"
"No you are not!" Pietro replied testily.
"Oh, yes I am."
"I think you're wrong..." Todd pointed out.
"Well, I know I'm right!"
"You're wrong!" Both the boys yelled.
"I'm right!"
"WRONG!"
"RIGHT!"
"WRONG!"
"RIGHT!"
"WILL ALL OF YOU SHUT UP AND GIVE ME SOME PEACE!" Wanda suggested calmly, causing several objects to unnaturally twist and bend in order to supplement her point of view.
"We will, snookums..." Todd said, trying to console Wanda, "as soon as those bozos admit that I'm right and they're wrong!"
"And the chances of that are...?" Lance muttered, sitting down on the sofa, kicking up a cloud of dust.
"Oh, yeah right!" Pietro laughed condescendingly. "Of the two alternate – and wrong – theories that you guys are giving, yours is the least believable! At least Freddy's idea makes some sort of sense! Yours is just... dumb!"
"My theory is not wrong!" Freddy said, hotly.
"Really?" Todd spluttered. "If my theory is wrong, what is with all the pointers shown throughout the film?"
"Those 'pointers' don't make any sense!"
"They do so! The sticking plaster on the back of the neck... the combination code on the briefcase... it all indicates that my theory's right!"
Freddy snorted. "Listen, Tarantino may have included religious hints with Jules, but that was it! He wasn't trying to make a movie about religion!"
"Jules just supports my argument even further!"
"Well, at least my theory is conceivable!" Pietro pointed out.
"SHUT UP!" Freddy and Todd both yelled.
Wanda made a sound that was a cross between a sigh and a groan, and headed towards her room
"Okay... okay..." Pietro muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Listen guys," Lance said, holding his hands up in a calming manner. "You've all got good points, but don't you think we'd better go to bed? I mean it's..." He looked at his watch and groaned. "Okay, we're going to bed, now! We've been up too late!" And, he thought in the privacy of his own mind, if you argue about this anymore I'm going to do a Jack Nicholson.
"Hey, we can't go to bed right now, Lance." Pietro replied. "We have to finish this argument once and for all!"
"That's not going to happen..." Lance pointed out.
"It will, as soon as those morons see the truth and realise I'm right!"
Both Freddy and Todd opened their mouths and were about to tirade Pietro when there was a knocking at the door. It wasn't the calm, 'could you please open the door' knock, it was an 'open the door, or I'll kick it down' knock.
Lance left the room, and cautiously opened the door slightly. Out on the doorstep was one of the new kids from the institute... that bat-like kid... Daniel...?
This train of thought was stopped when the newcomer pushed the door open, and walked quickly into the living room. The argument, for the first time in five hours, stopped.
Without appearing to move, Todd and Fred shifted to the side of the kid, while Lance stood behind him. The kid stared around him with a worried expression tempered with an angry glare. A few moments were given up to the two parties staring each other down.
Pietro raised an eyebrow lazily. "What do you want?"
"Ah need your help." The kid blurted, looking around pensively.
"What, can't you get your X-Geek friends to help you?" Todd replied.
"Ah didnae hive any time tae ask th' X-Men. Yous are the only people Ah can git right now. Please can you help?"
Lance leaned against the doorframe, and smirked lazily. "Well, it depends on what you need our help on."
Dean shifted his jaw and blinked sweat out of his eyes. "Do yous remember Piter?"
Freddy's forehead wrinkled. "You mean the guy with long hair, those weird blue-on-blue eyes and the lips that made him look like he was wearing lipstick?"
Dean nodded.
"What about him?"
Dean bit his lower lip. "He's gotten intae some argument wi' this wan fellow, an' Ah'm feart that he cuid be hurt. Cuid yous help me?"
Pietro raised an eyebrow. "What, you're afraid that Piter could get into a fight with somebody? What's so bad about that?"
"This guy is wan mean bastart. Ah wuid try an' help him myself, but Ah'm afraid Ah widnae make a difference."
Todd shrugged. "So what help could we be? After all, you are one of the," his voice took a sneering tone, "perfect X-Men. If you can't beat him, what chance do we have?"
"Look, Ah'm sure that if we help each other out, we can-"
"I'm sorry," Pietro interrupted, "but we don't fight for any X-Geek. If they've put themselves into trouble, let them get themselves out of it." He gestured to the rest of the Brotherhood. "C'mon guys, let's go."
"Look, Ah'll..." Dean thought furiously as the Brotherhood walked upstairs. "Ah'll pay you!"
Pietro paused, then rushed back down the stairs and leaned casually against the wall. "You'll pay us, eh...?"
Dean nodded. "Aye, but Ah need your help. When we get rid of the big man, Ah'll be able tae pay yous lot."
Pietro looked interested. "How much?"
Dean raised his eyes to heaven. He picked a random figure. "Five hundred?"
Pietro smiled slyly. "Seven."
"Six."
"Six-fifty."
"Four."
"Five."
"Done!" Dean yelled, shaking Pietro's hand. A slight confused look stole over the rest of the Brotherhood's faces.
"Come on! If we run, we can get tae the place in ten minutes." Dean yelled, rushing towards the front door and opening it furiously.
Lance raised an eyebrow. "Look, you do know that there is a brilliant invention out nowadays called an 'automobile'. It's a remarkable new device which allows you to go places v-"
Dean looked at Lance with a sardonic glance. "Fine then, Let's go!"
"Hold your horses..." Lance muttered as he walked over to the jeep, and opened it. The rest of the Brotherhood minus Wanda jumped in, followed by Dean.
"So, where do we go?" Lance called over his shoulder.
"Th' bloody – whit's it called – the playing field. You know where it is?" Lance nodded in reply, and pulled the jeep onto the road.
"Listen..." Todd said thoughtfully, "Since you're here, can you settle an argument we're having?"
"Oh, God, no..." Lance moaned, closing his eyes briefly.
"Have you seen 'Pulp Fiction'?" Todd asked.
"Aye."
"So, what's in the briefcase?" Freddy asked.
Dean looked thoughtful for a second. "Well, Ah've heard four theories about what's in it."
"Go on..." Pietro gestured for him to continue.
"Well, it cuid either be drugs..."
Pietro nodded. "That's what I said."
"... another theory is that it wis the gold Elvis suit frae 'True Romance'..."
"I told you so!" Fred said, looking triumphant.
"...another theory is that it's that bald guy's soul which he sold to the devil..."
"Oh, come on." Pietro snapped, rolling his eyes. "How can it be that?"
"It's like I said, yo," Todd added. "The plaster covers a wound which is associated for the removal of a soul. Also, the number lock, 666, indicates the devil as being the recipient. Why do y'think Wallace wanted the briefcase so badly?"
Pietro just shook his head in a depressed manner.
"...Th' final theory about what's in the briefcase, and this is th' theory which Ah believe, is that the briefcase held..." Dean paused, then lowered his voice. "... twa forty-watt bulbs linked tae a battery."
The jeep drove in silence for a while. Then Pietro sneered at Dean. "That's stupid. My theory's right."
"No it's not!" Todd snapped.
"You're both wrong!" Fred yelled.
"Yous are all wrong!" Dean crowed. "Ah'm right!"
"In your dreams, Bruce Wayne!" Pietro yelled.
"Thank you! And in real life, tae!"
"X-Geek!"
"Loser!"
Lance sighed, then drummed his fingers against the wheel slowly. "It's times like these when I like to think I could drink..."
&&&&&&
Sorry, I couldn't resist. Besides, I thought it was becoming a bit too 'holier-than-thou' for my tastes.
R&R
What? Why are you staring at me like that, why are y- Oh, I don't own nothing.
&&&&&&
"You're wrong!" Pietro snapped.
"No I'm not!" Freddy yelled back.
"You're both wrong!" Todd hollered at the two of them.
"Why am I forced to live with such imbeciles?" Wanda muttered, rubbing the ridge of her nose wearily.
"I've asked that question many a time." Lance replied, and took a sip of his drink.
"Look, it's obvious that I'm right." Pietro said, waving his arms unconsciously. "How on earth can you say otherwise?"
"Let me see," Todd said pulling a parody of someone looking thoughtful. "Oh, I know. BECAUSE YOU'RE WRONG!"
"Oh, that's rich!" Freddy chortled. "Listen, you are both wrong, and I am right!"
"No you are not!" Pietro replied testily.
"Oh, yes I am."
"I think you're wrong..." Todd pointed out.
"Well, I know I'm right!"
"You're wrong!" Both the boys yelled.
"I'm right!"
"WRONG!"
"RIGHT!"
"WRONG!"
"RIGHT!"
"WILL ALL OF YOU SHUT UP AND GIVE ME SOME PEACE!" Wanda suggested calmly, causing several objects to unnaturally twist and bend in order to supplement her point of view.
"We will, snookums..." Todd said, trying to console Wanda, "as soon as those bozos admit that I'm right and they're wrong!"
"And the chances of that are...?" Lance muttered, sitting down on the sofa, kicking up a cloud of dust.
"Oh, yeah right!" Pietro laughed condescendingly. "Of the two alternate – and wrong – theories that you guys are giving, yours is the least believable! At least Freddy's idea makes some sort of sense! Yours is just... dumb!"
"My theory is not wrong!" Freddy said, hotly.
"Really?" Todd spluttered. "If my theory is wrong, what is with all the pointers shown throughout the film?"
"Those 'pointers' don't make any sense!"
"They do so! The sticking plaster on the back of the neck... the combination code on the briefcase... it all indicates that my theory's right!"
Freddy snorted. "Listen, Tarantino may have included religious hints with Jules, but that was it! He wasn't trying to make a movie about religion!"
"Jules just supports my argument even further!"
"Well, at least my theory is conceivable!" Pietro pointed out.
"SHUT UP!" Freddy and Todd both yelled.
Wanda made a sound that was a cross between a sigh and a groan, and headed towards her room
"Okay... okay..." Pietro muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Listen guys," Lance said, holding his hands up in a calming manner. "You've all got good points, but don't you think we'd better go to bed? I mean it's..." He looked at his watch and groaned. "Okay, we're going to bed, now! We've been up too late!" And, he thought in the privacy of his own mind, if you argue about this anymore I'm going to do a Jack Nicholson.
"Hey, we can't go to bed right now, Lance." Pietro replied. "We have to finish this argument once and for all!"
"That's not going to happen..." Lance pointed out.
"It will, as soon as those morons see the truth and realise I'm right!"
Both Freddy and Todd opened their mouths and were about to tirade Pietro when there was a knocking at the door. It wasn't the calm, 'could you please open the door' knock, it was an 'open the door, or I'll kick it down' knock.
Lance left the room, and cautiously opened the door slightly. Out on the doorstep was one of the new kids from the institute... that bat-like kid... Daniel...?
This train of thought was stopped when the newcomer pushed the door open, and walked quickly into the living room. The argument, for the first time in five hours, stopped.
Without appearing to move, Todd and Fred shifted to the side of the kid, while Lance stood behind him. The kid stared around him with a worried expression tempered with an angry glare. A few moments were given up to the two parties staring each other down.
Pietro raised an eyebrow lazily. "What do you want?"
"Ah need your help." The kid blurted, looking around pensively.
"What, can't you get your X-Geek friends to help you?" Todd replied.
"Ah didnae hive any time tae ask th' X-Men. Yous are the only people Ah can git right now. Please can you help?"
Lance leaned against the doorframe, and smirked lazily. "Well, it depends on what you need our help on."
Dean shifted his jaw and blinked sweat out of his eyes. "Do yous remember Piter?"
Freddy's forehead wrinkled. "You mean the guy with long hair, those weird blue-on-blue eyes and the lips that made him look like he was wearing lipstick?"
Dean nodded.
"What about him?"
Dean bit his lower lip. "He's gotten intae some argument wi' this wan fellow, an' Ah'm feart that he cuid be hurt. Cuid yous help me?"
Pietro raised an eyebrow. "What, you're afraid that Piter could get into a fight with somebody? What's so bad about that?"
"This guy is wan mean bastart. Ah wuid try an' help him myself, but Ah'm afraid Ah widnae make a difference."
Todd shrugged. "So what help could we be? After all, you are one of the," his voice took a sneering tone, "perfect X-Men. If you can't beat him, what chance do we have?"
"Look, Ah'm sure that if we help each other out, we can-"
"I'm sorry," Pietro interrupted, "but we don't fight for any X-Geek. If they've put themselves into trouble, let them get themselves out of it." He gestured to the rest of the Brotherhood. "C'mon guys, let's go."
"Look, Ah'll..." Dean thought furiously as the Brotherhood walked upstairs. "Ah'll pay you!"
Pietro paused, then rushed back down the stairs and leaned casually against the wall. "You'll pay us, eh...?"
Dean nodded. "Aye, but Ah need your help. When we get rid of the big man, Ah'll be able tae pay yous lot."
Pietro looked interested. "How much?"
Dean raised his eyes to heaven. He picked a random figure. "Five hundred?"
Pietro smiled slyly. "Seven."
"Six."
"Six-fifty."
"Four."
"Five."
"Done!" Dean yelled, shaking Pietro's hand. A slight confused look stole over the rest of the Brotherhood's faces.
"Come on! If we run, we can get tae the place in ten minutes." Dean yelled, rushing towards the front door and opening it furiously.
Lance raised an eyebrow. "Look, you do know that there is a brilliant invention out nowadays called an 'automobile'. It's a remarkable new device which allows you to go places v-"
Dean looked at Lance with a sardonic glance. "Fine then, Let's go!"
"Hold your horses..." Lance muttered as he walked over to the jeep, and opened it. The rest of the Brotherhood minus Wanda jumped in, followed by Dean.
"So, where do we go?" Lance called over his shoulder.
"Th' bloody – whit's it called – the playing field. You know where it is?" Lance nodded in reply, and pulled the jeep onto the road.
"Listen..." Todd said thoughtfully, "Since you're here, can you settle an argument we're having?"
"Oh, God, no..." Lance moaned, closing his eyes briefly.
"Have you seen 'Pulp Fiction'?" Todd asked.
"Aye."
"So, what's in the briefcase?" Freddy asked.
Dean looked thoughtful for a second. "Well, Ah've heard four theories about what's in it."
"Go on..." Pietro gestured for him to continue.
"Well, it cuid either be drugs..."
Pietro nodded. "That's what I said."
"... another theory is that it wis the gold Elvis suit frae 'True Romance'..."
"I told you so!" Fred said, looking triumphant.
"...another theory is that it's that bald guy's soul which he sold to the devil..."
"Oh, come on." Pietro snapped, rolling his eyes. "How can it be that?"
"It's like I said, yo," Todd added. "The plaster covers a wound which is associated for the removal of a soul. Also, the number lock, 666, indicates the devil as being the recipient. Why do y'think Wallace wanted the briefcase so badly?"
Pietro just shook his head in a depressed manner.
"...Th' final theory about what's in the briefcase, and this is th' theory which Ah believe, is that the briefcase held..." Dean paused, then lowered his voice. "... twa forty-watt bulbs linked tae a battery."
The jeep drove in silence for a while. Then Pietro sneered at Dean. "That's stupid. My theory's right."
"No it's not!" Todd snapped.
"You're both wrong!" Fred yelled.
"Yous are all wrong!" Dean crowed. "Ah'm right!"
"In your dreams, Bruce Wayne!" Pietro yelled.
"Thank you! And in real life, tae!"
"X-Geek!"
"Loser!"
Lance sighed, then drummed his fingers against the wheel slowly. "It's times like these when I like to think I could drink..."
&&&&&&
Sorry, I couldn't resist. Besides, I thought it was becoming a bit too 'holier-than-thou' for my tastes.
R&R