Cyclops's Bad Medicine

Disclaimer: "This is mind-taker country!" – Mentok the Mind-Taker, Harvey Birdman: Attorney at Law

Chapter 7: Random Moments!

Destro Castle, Scotland

"Hmm…" The blond pony-tailed English Dreadnok known as Buzzer scratched his chin in thought and contemplation.

"Yeah…" The red-haired-and-bearded Australian Dreadnok known as Torch agreed, scratching his head. The two bikers were looking at a large painting. It was a painting of Destro on a horse, resembling the famous painting of Napoleon Bonaparte on a rearing horse. "You know, I recognize this painting."

"Yeah." Buzzer nodded in agreement. "It does look familiar."

"Mm-hmm." Buzzer agreed. "This looks like that famous painting of Napoleon. You know, the one with him on the rearing horse pointing?"

"Oh yeah…" Torch nodded. "That painting was nice."

"It sure was."

"Yeah. This idea ain't exactly original." Torch pointed out. "I mean, the man can make a mean weapon, but he can't come up with any original ideas for paintings." The two Dreadnoks heard giggling. They turned and saw Destro speeding down the hall on a gurney.

"WHEEEEEEE!" The Scottish silver-masked arms dealer squealed in delight as he raced by, thanks to his being knocked out of his mind on painkillers.

"DESTRO!" A familiar Eastern European-accented voice screamed. It belonged to the Baroness, the black-clad, glasses-wearing, black-haired intelligence officer of Cobra. She ran after the gurney. "DESTRO! COME BACK HERE! YOU'RE GOING TO BREAK YOUR NECK!" Buzzer and Torch blinked as they looked at each other, and then turned back to the painting.

"Oh yeah, there's no originality here." Torch groaned. "I mean, look at the bloody thing! The bloody brush strokes are the same! That's not right!"

"Tell me about it." Buzzer nodded. "I mean, I know what Destro intended and all, to pay tribute to one of history's greatest generals, but Destro himself is no general. He's just an arms-maker!" The two Dreadnoks looked at each other.

"Roast it." They said in unison. Torch took his flamethrower to the painting. As they watched it burn, a screaming butler ran by in the background, followed by the teenage alligator-like Dreadnok called Leathersuit.

"Come 'ere, butler-boy! I just want to make you FEEL! SOME! PAAAAAAAINNNNN!"

The Xavier Institute

"Well…" Althea Delgado, the Misfit leader and hydrokinetic codenamed Wavedancer, tapped her foot impatiently, arms crossed and having a 'You-had-better-make-it-quick-or-I-will-gut-you-like-a-fish' look on her face. She was standing in the Institute's garden. With her was the red-headed dragon-powered wrestler's son Jake Wildfire, codenamed Red Dragon. "What do you have to report? And make it quick, Jake. I got my private time with my Toddles interrupted for this. And you know how much I hate getting my private time with my Toddles interrupted."

"Yeah, yeah, Al." The Bostonian mutant sighed, rolling his blue eyes in semi-amusement. "Anyway, we found Cyclops."

"Well? Where is he?" Althea asked.

"Well…" Jake started to snicker. "The guy at the convenience store told me that Scott is most likely being led in the direction of the Comic-Con downtown." Althea raised an eyebrow.

"A comic convention?" Althea snickered. "I can't see ol' Mr. Stick-in-the-Mud Scott Summers hanging around a bunch of comic geeks."

"Hey, my brother is a comic geek. You better watch yourself." Jake mock warned, crossing his arms.

"Sorry, sorry…" Althea chuckled. "it's just the thought of Scott Summers doing anything fun is kind of…out there."

"Oh, I'm sure." Jake rolled his eyes with a chuckle. "It does seem to fit. Think about it, where else would a guy in a colorful costume who thinks he's a superhero go?"

"You mean besides joining a super-team?" Althea teased.

"Hey, uh…" Jamie peeked out at them through the bushes. "What're you guys doing?"

"Jamie! Thank God you're here!" Jake mockingly sighed in relief. "Althea was going to execute me for interrupting her precious makeout time with Todd."

"Oh, very funny!" Althea groaned. She then looked at Jamie. "What's up, squirt?"

"Well, the X-Guys want to know how you're doing. If Scott's alright." Jamie replied, scratching his head.

"Well, we do have a good idea where he could be…" Althea nodded. Meanwhile, the X-Boys had gone back to one of their old tricks. Ray Crisp, Piotr Rasputin, and Remy LeBeau, aka the electrically-powered ex-Morlock Berzerker, the steel-skinned Russian powerhouse Colossus, and the Cajun kinetic-charger Gambit, had rigged an overhang with a wrecking ball from the wall of the Institute. They stood a distance away from the Institute, holding back the wrecking ball.

"This has got to work!" Ray grinned. "Scott or no Scott!" Bobby Drake, the ice-making prankster codenamed Iceman, shook his head has he walked by.

"I thought you guys quit this stuff." Bobby groaned. "You guys are just going to get your butts kicked again."

"Oh, shut up." Ray grumbled.

"Don't say I didn't warn you, then…" Bobby laughed as he walked away.

"Whatever." Gambit grumbled. "Hey, here he comes now." He pointed out Paul walking by. "Dere he is! Okay! Ready…Aim…Fire!" The three boys released the wrecking ball. It sped towards an unknowing Starchild.

"Hey!" Paul noticed something on the ground. "A quarter." Paul bent down to pick up the quarter, causing the wrecking ball to fly over him and smash the wall behind him.

"OH MAH GAWD! MAH ROOM!" Rogue's scream could be heard from inside.

"Aw, man…" Gambit moaned. "Remy in trouble now."

"Uh oh…" Ray and Piotr quickly ducked down as an incensed Rogue peeked out of the hole.

"Hi, Rogue." Paul waved sweetly, leaving. Rogue waved back with a smile, then scowled at Remy. The Cajun mutant pointed at himself, then shook his head at incredible speed, waving his arms in front of him equally as fast in attempt to make himself look like he knew nothing. With a scream, Rogue flew into the Cajun and started pounding him.

The Bayville Comic-Con

"Huh…" Scott Summers, the optic-blasting mutant codenamed Cyclops, looked around at the scene he was in. He was inside the Bayville Comic-Con, where many fans of comic books, most of them dressed as comic characters, were talking, buying, and selling their collections. Scott was dressed as the goofy superhero Eye-Man. In fact, he had thought he was Eye-Man. "Evidently, there are fellow members of the superhuman community in here. Perhaps, if I keep my eye out, I can spot someone I recognize." Scott started to go through the crowd, and he was watched by two nerds dressed up as superheroes.

"Who the heck was that?" Nerd #1 asked.

"Heck if I know, pal." Nerd #2 shrugged. "But I tell you, what an idiot."

"Huh?" The puzzled Nerd #1 blinked.

"Well, let me explain." Nerd #2 smirked. "You ever heard of Eye-Man?"

"Yeah!" Nerd #1 grinned. "My dad had his comics. By today's standards, the character is lame and goofy."

"Yup." Nerd #2 nodded. "Evidently, that idiot had decided to dress up as the Amazing Eye-Man. Costume's a little different, but it is his."

"Oh, my God!" Nerd #1 started laughing. "Man, what self-respecting person born in the last twenty-five years would want to dress up as Eye-Man of all characters?" The two nerds laughed. Meanwhile, Scott had noticed a certain disguised Crimson Guardsman.

"Blinder…" Scott's eyes narrowed behind his visor.

Well, well, well! Looks like two 'enemies' have finally met up! What insanity will happen next? Can our heroes save Scott? Will the Crimson Guardsman get tortured? Find out in the next chapter! Suggestions needed badly!