Kurt snickered. It had been Scott's idea, but it'd had a good deal of merit and he did enjoy a good prank. Pretending to be a touch more friendly than normal due to a very wee bit of drink which Logan would most assuredly smell on him, Kurt went up to Wolverine and patted him on the back as he greeted him in the hallway, being careful to not look back to make sure the deed was done.
Going up the hall, he rounded a corner, popped himself to the end of that corridor, then turned and popped himself to the end of the corridor, then turned and popped himself to the end of that corridor, ending up in the corridor he'd started in, well behind he of the pointy hair. The deed, it would seem, was done and done well.
Careful not to laugh and give himself away to he of the pointy hair, sharp sense of smell, and preternatural hearing, he popped himself well away from the scene of the crime before Wolverine noticed the stapler that had been glued to his back.
Six hours later, Wolverine smirked as he watched Kurt Wagner down an evening glass of warm milk, sleepily drag himself to his room, and then collapse onto his bed, not even bothering to undress. Success.
Waiting a few more minutes for the Incredible Nightcrawler to be well and truly out, Wolverine stalked into the room, checked the blue-furred mutant's breathing, and then stripped the German mutant of everything but his underclothing.
It would seem the answer to the eternal question was briefs. Tighty whities in fact.
Once Kurt was stripped, Wolverine applied liberal amounts of shaving cream to the blue mutant's body. With a Snikt, Wolverine's Adamantium claws extended and he of the pointy hair and the cheap cigars grabbed one of Kurt's legs and set to work...
Kurt awoke to the morning sun shining into his eyes. For some strange reason, he was absolutely freezing and everything felt really, really, strange for some reason he could not fathom.
With a tired groan because he still felt completely exhausted, Kurt started getting up, blinking sleepily as he did so. As his brain began to boot, he noticed that he kept spotting something very, very strange between eyeblinks. Something very pale white with a faint bluish tinge to it kept popping into his vision.
His mind began to process and resolve the image. It was an arm. An arm that terminated in a hand with only three digits. An arm that looked so utterly wrong for a reason that took him nearly ten seconds to process.
When he finally processed the answer to the mystery, it had explained why he was freezing cold and everything had felt strange.
Someone had shaved his entire body while he was asleep.