A/N: I should be working on any of the numerous stories I have in the
planning stages. I really should. This little idea hit me (literally) in
the middle of an extremely boring Health class, and stuck. Since then I've
come up with more and more one-shots, so I should actually update this
story rather quickly (it's a miracle I tell you, a miracle!).
Uh...none of these are connected at all. In any way whatsoever. Some are song fics, some are funny or sad or romantic. Sorta whatever catches my notice, if you know what I mean.
Disclaimer: Wow, you know, I've tried and tried and tried...Stan Lee just won't return my phone calls. Guess that means he didn't want the three Saltines I offered for the X-Men...oh well, life goes on I suppose.
Random Quote: "Why do I need to know English? I'm never going to England!" –Homer Simpson
^^^^^^
The scene opens to a stage as one might see in a comedy or poetry reading club. A single spotlight highlights the polished wood floor of the stage. The audience is in blackness, but that's ok, because there is no audience. Just a lonely old man in a blue and red striped pair of coveralls, with a nametag reading Bob. He is, in fact, the night janitor at this loneliest of clubs called the Polar Bar. However, the name isn't important, and neither is Bob.
Human eyes are naturally drawn to contrast, so your eye is drawn to the spotlight on the stage. A fifteen-year-old girl stumbles out onto the stage, dressed in a pink and turquoise ballerina outfit. Her long dark brown hair is in a messy braid. She peers around at the non-existant audience and straightens her tutu skirt. Then she starts speaking:
"All right, my lovely sister forced me into being here and wearing this, so I might as well get it over with. This is the Midnight Variety Vignette Show and I am your reluctant host, Trista Black. Each of these chapters will be a short ficlet or idea from my twin sister Jessica. This first one centers on Easter and a rather annoyed Rahne. So, please, sit back, tell the butler if you'd like anything to drink, and enjoy the show."
As the girl finishes speaking, she turns around and attempts to pull down an overhead screen from the wall behind her. True to the nature of such things, it takes five tries and a planetary alignment to get it to stay down. Still cussing at the obdurate screen under her breath, Trista takes a hasty bow and exits, stage left.
The light shifts from a spotlight to a projector light and the screen forms a scene of the outside front lawn of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters...
^^^^^
12:45 PM
Wolfsbane trotted across the lawn towards a group of mutants engaged in a game of Frisbee. As she went, she considered who would be the best of the assembled to get her out of her current predicament with a minimum of embarrassment. Her options weren't very good; the choice was between John, Amara, Jamie, Ray and Roberto. Neither Ray or Roberto would ever leave her alone if they found out her problem, and Amara would probably help but...Rahne didn't really relish the idea of blackmail by princess. John...she didn't know him THAT well yet, and he was crazy anyway. Jamie seemed to be the only option as he could be bribed or threatened into not telling anyone.
During this period of contemplation, she reached the group and stopped by Jamie. He absentmindedly patted her on the head while still focusing on John and Amara who were batting the Frisbee back and forth with huge fire birds. Rahne growled quietly and pawed at Jamie's leg impatiently. Multiple looked down at her, and asked in a rather annoyed tone of voice:
"What do you want Rahne? I'm kinda busy..."
Deciding that he wasn't worth her time, she sighed (as much as a wolf can sigh) and left.
12:57 PM
Rahne entered the medical lab in one of the sub-basements to a rather disturbing (to some people scene). The residents of the Xavier Institute had quite gotten used to it however and it no longer bothered them to see a blue furred NFL linebacker in a white lab coat and spectacles sitting at a table doing diabolical (*ahem*) experiments. Accordingly, Wolfsbane took no notice of it, merely noting the strong odor of carrots, cocoa and curry all mixed together. (Try mixing that all together in a pan with noodles, then trying to eat it. NOT a good thing...and yes, I did do that, sad to say. Anywhoo, back to the story, all right? Get those cameras out of my face! Damn paparazzi!) Doctor Hank McCoy was studiously focused on his current diabolical (*ahem*) experiment, which currently involved dumping a test tube full of pink bubbly liquid (CHAMPAGNE!!) into a lit Bunsen burner. So, in accordance with all the rules of these kinds of things, Rahne walked over and whined...and when that didn't get a reaction, she whined again and pawed at his leg. Beast carefully moved the tube away from the burner and peered down his nose at her. (Wow, that sentence sounded disturbing.)
"Miss Sinclair, this is a very diabol-uh, delicate experiment. If you would please refrain from shaking me while I am attempting to meld these two chemical compounds it would be extremely helpful."
Well, what could she do? Rahne just shook her head and backed away slowly, so as not to draw attention from the evi-I mean, good Dr. McCoy.
1:17 PM
This was it. The end of the road. Finally, she had found the salvation she'd gone all over the mansion grounds looking for. Had braved the dark shadow of the garage with the cloned X-Vans, Mr. McCoy's lab, Rogue's room, and that was just for starters. Her savior stood before her in faded jeans and a flannel shirt, making a fried egg sandwich (Y'know, my stepdad makes the absolute BEST fried egg sandwiches. He puts cheese on- Wait; you probably didn't read this for my expose on sandwiches, huh? Right, back to the story!). At the sound of Wolfsbane's paws on the linoleum, Sam Guthrie turned to look and see if perhaps she wanted a sandwich as well. When he asked though, all he got was a shake of her head and a muted whine. This all rather confused him and he said so:
"Rahne, what's going on?"
In answer, she pawed at her muzzle and whined again. Then she gestured towards the trashcan with her nose. He looked into the receptacle (love that word!) and saw something least expected as Easter had been gone for at least three weeks: a box of those lovely colorful, sticky, sweet PEEPS!!!! Now, normally this would not cause that much alarm, but this box was EMPTY. Which meant that someone had eaten them. And if that someone was Rahne in her Wolfsbane form...
Sam sighed:
"Rahne, again? I thought the Professor told you to quit eating them as a wolf!"
All that followed that exasperated comment was a whine and the 'puppy dog' look.
"Ok, ok, I'll go get the Alka-Seltzer."
^^^^^
The scene cuts back to the stage. Trista flips the screen back with a satisfying snap and dusts off her hands. The projector light sputters back to a spotlight and refocuses on Trista. She looks up and realizes that they are, in fact, still running this little show. Hurriedly going to the microphone, she looks around and says:
"Thank you for attending, if you'd like to leave a review-wait, why am I saying this? All I'm supposed to do is introduce this circus! You never said anything about end host duties! It's not in my contract! I'm calling my agent! And the Better Business Bureau! This'll never stick! I'll sue you for everything you've got!"
By this time she is furiously yelling at the ceiling and shaking her fist. Abruptly, the lights flick off and the stage is thrown into blackness (hitting an elephant on the way in. Someone should tell them to stay out of the way...). The distinct sounds of someone being hit over the head with a frying pan then dragged unconscious from the scene manifest. Finally there is nothing but silence and Bob clapping. But who really cares about Bob anyway?
^^^^^
All right folks, love? Hate? Are you having homicidal or lovey-dovey tendencies right now? And how does THAT make you feel? (Sorry, bad inside joke that no one should ever, ever be subjected to but I am anyway, cause I can...) Anyway, I have actually discovered some things about myself while writing this particular fic. I am highly suspicious of Beast and his little lab. He could totally be planning...something. I mean, all I know is what I would do in a lab full of highly reactive chemicals and fire...(laughs) yeah, ok, moving on. I LOVE peeps...I get very, very, very hyper when I get peeps...they're not just for Easter anymore either! Gots um for most alla de holidays now...well, gotta go, catch y'all later and PLEASE, dear God, leave a review! Desperate for feedback over here!
Uh...none of these are connected at all. In any way whatsoever. Some are song fics, some are funny or sad or romantic. Sorta whatever catches my notice, if you know what I mean.
Disclaimer: Wow, you know, I've tried and tried and tried...Stan Lee just won't return my phone calls. Guess that means he didn't want the three Saltines I offered for the X-Men...oh well, life goes on I suppose.
Random Quote: "Why do I need to know English? I'm never going to England!" –Homer Simpson
^^^^^^
The scene opens to a stage as one might see in a comedy or poetry reading club. A single spotlight highlights the polished wood floor of the stage. The audience is in blackness, but that's ok, because there is no audience. Just a lonely old man in a blue and red striped pair of coveralls, with a nametag reading Bob. He is, in fact, the night janitor at this loneliest of clubs called the Polar Bar. However, the name isn't important, and neither is Bob.
Human eyes are naturally drawn to contrast, so your eye is drawn to the spotlight on the stage. A fifteen-year-old girl stumbles out onto the stage, dressed in a pink and turquoise ballerina outfit. Her long dark brown hair is in a messy braid. She peers around at the non-existant audience and straightens her tutu skirt. Then she starts speaking:
"All right, my lovely sister forced me into being here and wearing this, so I might as well get it over with. This is the Midnight Variety Vignette Show and I am your reluctant host, Trista Black. Each of these chapters will be a short ficlet or idea from my twin sister Jessica. This first one centers on Easter and a rather annoyed Rahne. So, please, sit back, tell the butler if you'd like anything to drink, and enjoy the show."
As the girl finishes speaking, she turns around and attempts to pull down an overhead screen from the wall behind her. True to the nature of such things, it takes five tries and a planetary alignment to get it to stay down. Still cussing at the obdurate screen under her breath, Trista takes a hasty bow and exits, stage left.
The light shifts from a spotlight to a projector light and the screen forms a scene of the outside front lawn of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters...
^^^^^
12:45 PM
Wolfsbane trotted across the lawn towards a group of mutants engaged in a game of Frisbee. As she went, she considered who would be the best of the assembled to get her out of her current predicament with a minimum of embarrassment. Her options weren't very good; the choice was between John, Amara, Jamie, Ray and Roberto. Neither Ray or Roberto would ever leave her alone if they found out her problem, and Amara would probably help but...Rahne didn't really relish the idea of blackmail by princess. John...she didn't know him THAT well yet, and he was crazy anyway. Jamie seemed to be the only option as he could be bribed or threatened into not telling anyone.
During this period of contemplation, she reached the group and stopped by Jamie. He absentmindedly patted her on the head while still focusing on John and Amara who were batting the Frisbee back and forth with huge fire birds. Rahne growled quietly and pawed at Jamie's leg impatiently. Multiple looked down at her, and asked in a rather annoyed tone of voice:
"What do you want Rahne? I'm kinda busy..."
Deciding that he wasn't worth her time, she sighed (as much as a wolf can sigh) and left.
12:57 PM
Rahne entered the medical lab in one of the sub-basements to a rather disturbing (to some people scene). The residents of the Xavier Institute had quite gotten used to it however and it no longer bothered them to see a blue furred NFL linebacker in a white lab coat and spectacles sitting at a table doing diabolical (*ahem*) experiments. Accordingly, Wolfsbane took no notice of it, merely noting the strong odor of carrots, cocoa and curry all mixed together. (Try mixing that all together in a pan with noodles, then trying to eat it. NOT a good thing...and yes, I did do that, sad to say. Anywhoo, back to the story, all right? Get those cameras out of my face! Damn paparazzi!) Doctor Hank McCoy was studiously focused on his current diabolical (*ahem*) experiment, which currently involved dumping a test tube full of pink bubbly liquid (CHAMPAGNE!!) into a lit Bunsen burner. So, in accordance with all the rules of these kinds of things, Rahne walked over and whined...and when that didn't get a reaction, she whined again and pawed at his leg. Beast carefully moved the tube away from the burner and peered down his nose at her. (Wow, that sentence sounded disturbing.)
"Miss Sinclair, this is a very diabol-uh, delicate experiment. If you would please refrain from shaking me while I am attempting to meld these two chemical compounds it would be extremely helpful."
Well, what could she do? Rahne just shook her head and backed away slowly, so as not to draw attention from the evi-I mean, good Dr. McCoy.
1:17 PM
This was it. The end of the road. Finally, she had found the salvation she'd gone all over the mansion grounds looking for. Had braved the dark shadow of the garage with the cloned X-Vans, Mr. McCoy's lab, Rogue's room, and that was just for starters. Her savior stood before her in faded jeans and a flannel shirt, making a fried egg sandwich (Y'know, my stepdad makes the absolute BEST fried egg sandwiches. He puts cheese on- Wait; you probably didn't read this for my expose on sandwiches, huh? Right, back to the story!). At the sound of Wolfsbane's paws on the linoleum, Sam Guthrie turned to look and see if perhaps she wanted a sandwich as well. When he asked though, all he got was a shake of her head and a muted whine. This all rather confused him and he said so:
"Rahne, what's going on?"
In answer, she pawed at her muzzle and whined again. Then she gestured towards the trashcan with her nose. He looked into the receptacle (love that word!) and saw something least expected as Easter had been gone for at least three weeks: a box of those lovely colorful, sticky, sweet PEEPS!!!! Now, normally this would not cause that much alarm, but this box was EMPTY. Which meant that someone had eaten them. And if that someone was Rahne in her Wolfsbane form...
Sam sighed:
"Rahne, again? I thought the Professor told you to quit eating them as a wolf!"
All that followed that exasperated comment was a whine and the 'puppy dog' look.
"Ok, ok, I'll go get the Alka-Seltzer."
^^^^^
The scene cuts back to the stage. Trista flips the screen back with a satisfying snap and dusts off her hands. The projector light sputters back to a spotlight and refocuses on Trista. She looks up and realizes that they are, in fact, still running this little show. Hurriedly going to the microphone, she looks around and says:
"Thank you for attending, if you'd like to leave a review-wait, why am I saying this? All I'm supposed to do is introduce this circus! You never said anything about end host duties! It's not in my contract! I'm calling my agent! And the Better Business Bureau! This'll never stick! I'll sue you for everything you've got!"
By this time she is furiously yelling at the ceiling and shaking her fist. Abruptly, the lights flick off and the stage is thrown into blackness (hitting an elephant on the way in. Someone should tell them to stay out of the way...). The distinct sounds of someone being hit over the head with a frying pan then dragged unconscious from the scene manifest. Finally there is nothing but silence and Bob clapping. But who really cares about Bob anyway?
^^^^^
All right folks, love? Hate? Are you having homicidal or lovey-dovey tendencies right now? And how does THAT make you feel? (Sorry, bad inside joke that no one should ever, ever be subjected to but I am anyway, cause I can...) Anyway, I have actually discovered some things about myself while writing this particular fic. I am highly suspicious of Beast and his little lab. He could totally be planning...something. I mean, all I know is what I would do in a lab full of highly reactive chemicals and fire...(laughs) yeah, ok, moving on. I LOVE peeps...I get very, very, very hyper when I get peeps...they're not just for Easter anymore either! Gots um for most alla de holidays now...well, gotta go, catch y'all later and PLEASE, dear God, leave a review! Desperate for feedback over here!