Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel, or the Wizard of Oz.

Chapter Seventeen – Sinister Thoughts

Remy nonchalantly walked into Sinister's chamber with the broomstick and slammed it down in front of him. "Remy wants t'go home now."

"Remy," Sinister sighed. "How many times am I going to sucker you in before you learn that I never keep my promises?"

Remy sighed and smacked Sinister in the side of the head with the broomstick. "Remy wants t'go home now."

Sinister blinked a couple of times. "I already told you I have other things for you to…"

Smack!

"Remy wants t'go home now." Remy said a third time.

"I actually wanted you to assemble a team to collect Munchkin DNA."

Smack!

"Or, Remy, we could focus on getting home." Sinister said, wanting to avoid further abuse.

"What about us?" Scott asked.

"Scott, anybody can have a brain. That's a very mediocre commodity. Every pusillanimous creature that crawls on the earth, including Remy, – or slinks through slimy seas has a brain!" Remy smacked Sinister upside the head again. "Back where I come from we have universities, seats of great learning -- where men go to become great thinkers. And when they come out, they think deep thoughts – and with no more brains than you have... But! They have one thing you haven't got! A diploma!" He smiled sarcastically at Scott, who was looking at him with a dumb, but happy expression. "Therefore, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Universitatus Committeeatum e plurbis unum, I hereby confer upon you the honorary degree of Th.D."

Scott smiled. "Th.D?"

"Yes! A Doctorate of Thinkology!" Sinister said. "The highest esteemed diploma!"

Scott picked up the piece of paper and scurried away. Sinister looked up at Remy. "It hurts me that the Summers boys are that idiotic sometimes. I did make them, after all."

"Dey like defective Barbie dolls. All da dumb blonde, no boobs." Remy muttered.

Sinister looked to get Logan out of the way, so he turned to him. "As for you, my fine friend -- you're a victim of disorganized thinking. You are under the unfortunate delusion that simply because you run away from danger, you have no courage. You're confusing courage with wisdom. Back where I come from, we have men who are called heroes. Once a year, they take their fortitude out of mothballs and parade it down the main street of the city. And they have no more courage than you have. But! They have one thing that you haven't got! A medal! Therefore -- for meritorious conduct, extraordinary valor, conspicuous bravery against wicked witches, I award you the Triple Cross!" He handed Logan a medal, and motioned for him to leave.

Finally, Sinister turned to Creed. "You do not want a heart."

"Yes, I do." Creed said.

"It'll just get broken." Sinister said. "Plus, killing is the only thing you are good at."

"How about this? You give me a heart or I'll kill YOU." Creed said to him.

Sinister smiled. "My point exactly." Creed looked a little miffed. "Now, take this watch, pawn it, marry Logan, and live happily ever after. Understood?"

"Yes." Creed said, walking out happily.

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