No More Mutants Jumping on the Beds
"Yay! Freedom and liberty at last!" Pyro chirped happily. "It's been way too long!"
"Shut up Firebug before I reach back there and toss you out a window," Sabertooth snapped while driving a large moving truck. "Hey, watch where I'm going, lady!"
"Easy, Sabes," Remy soothed from where he, Pyro and Mastermind were squeezed into the truck's back seat. "Can't blame Pyro for being excited. It's been quite a while since we've all been outside the base."
"With Magneto's permission, anyway," Mastermind grumbled. "Which isn't worth much considering how apparently effortless it is for anyone to simply sneak out."
"Well, duh. Sneaking out of the base is easy," Pyro commented. "It's sneaking back into the base that's tough."
"Especially when one is toting a load of 'acquired' supplies," Remy quipped. "Like snacks, toys, movies, shaving cream, TVs…"
"And ice cream," Pyro added. "Don't forget the ice cream. Hey, we should stop and get some ice cream while we're out."
"I do not think that is a good idea," Piotr commented sitting in the front passenger seat. "Especially considering what happened last time."
"Last time?" Mastermind blinked. "What last time?"
"Well, you see…" Remy began.
"You know what? Never mind. I don't want to know," Mastermind sighed cutting Remy off. "I'm just glad to finally get away from the nuthouse for a while. Now if only I could get away from the bowl of cracked nutcases too!"
"Ha! Good luck with that," Sabertooth snorted. "Believe me, I've tried. Nothing ever works."
"Great. Thanks for the encouragement," Mastermind groaned rolling back his head. "And I thought this mundane mission was bad enough already. Going to a furniture store to replace pretty much every piece of furniture in the base. Why can't Magneto just do it himself like he's done who-knows-how-many times before?"
"Because Magneto is still recovering from the cotton ball, chainsaw and cooking oil incident this morning," Piotr reminded. "Also, he said that by selecting new furniture and putting in the effort to transport it all back to the base ourselves we will end up valuing the furniture more and be much less likely to ruin or destroy it."
"Does Magneto really think that will work?" Mastermind gave Piotr a look.
"Only one way to find out," Remy smirked.
"Okay, we're here," Sabertooth grunted pulling into a parking lot. "Everybody out!"
"Finally," Mastermind grumbled as the Acolytes piled out of the truck. "My legs were starting to cramp."
"Wheee! This is gonna be great!" Pyro cheered skipping through the entrance of a large furniture store. "Let's go!"
"Wow, this place is very nice," Piotr said looking around the wide, elegantly decorated showroom. He ran a hand over one of several full grain leather couches. "It is also very expensive. Are you sure we will be able to pay for things here?"
"No, but Mags will," Remy smirked flashing a handful of credit cards. "Face it, hommes. Being a mutant means having a hard, pain-filled life. We deserve to splurge every so often and enjoy all the good stuff life has to offer. So don't bothering holding back today and shop till ya drop!"
"Interesting choice of words," Mastermind muttered. "One that will undoubtedly come back to bite us in the butt."
"Wow, I did not know Magneto gave you all those credit cards," Piotr blinked in surprise.
"Sure, Mags 'gave' them to me," Remy whistled innocently. "That's my story and I'm sticking to it."
"Ooo, look at all the mahogany bookcases!" Pyro squealed checking out a selection. "And the handcrafted writing desks! And these pillows!"
"This drafting table looks very nice," Piotr commented inspecting a sturdy-looking design. "The height is adjustable too. And it can even be converted to be used as a painting easel."
"Who cares? Just get outta my way," Sabertooth growled stomping past his teammates and headed to a different part of the store. "All I want is a new easy chair. And a new liquor cabinet or three." He quickly flagged down a well-dressed sales associate. "Hey, you. Show me your armchairs."
"Of course, sir," The sales associate didn't miss a beat and smoothly led Sabertooth to a row of well-padded easy chairs. "Here we are. All our reclining armchairs are of ergometric design and are made of one hundred percent natural, hypoallergenic materials."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," Sabertooth grunted plopping down into one. "Hmmm, this chair's pretty good. Does it come with a matching beer rack?"
"No, but we do carry a model with a built-in wine cooler," The sales associate informed him. "Which can be customized to hold a wide variety of other beverages and spirits."
"What?" Sabertooth gasped leaping to his feet. "That's great! I'll take it!"
"Wonderful, sir. I'll prepare an order form for you right away," The sales associate quickly consulted the store's database. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir. We only have one such display model left in inventory and I'm afraid it has recently been purchased."
"What?!" Sabertooth roared. "By who?"
"Ahhh, now this is what I call living," Principal Kelly sighed happily lounging in the last aforementioned armchair with built-in wine cooler. He smiled and closed his eyes in contentment. "As principal I deserve to work and relax in comfort. Especially considering how many times my office furniture has been vandalized, stolen or destroyed. Especially by those blasted, troublemaking mutants! Like the time that wayward shot put completely wrecked my desk! If that incident doesn't justify me purchasing this chair I don't know what does! Hmmm, speaking of which, I should get a new office desk and sofa while I'm here. Maybe a state-of-the-art massage chair too. That way I can charge them all to the school's account instead of mine. Claim they're routine classroom supply requests or something…"
"Hey you!" A loud feral voice suddenly barked into his ear.
"Huh?" Kelly blinked shooting up with a start. "What was that…mmmppphhh!"
"Take my dream chair, will ya?" Sabertooth growled smothering Kelly's face with a borrowed couch cushion. "How 'bout I turn you into a real recliner?"
"Mmmppphhh?!" Kelly yelled muffledly as he felt himself being dragged away. "Hhhyyy! Hhhat's hoing on? Hhhlp!"
"Ahhh, now this is some mighty fine craftmanship," Remy grinned shuffling a deck of playing cards while seated at a classy, stylish poker table in a different section of the store. "Leather-padded rails. Speed felt. Custom chip holders. Much better than the old folding card table we've been using back at the base."
"Wow, that's amazing," A pair of young, female sales representatives marveled while watching Remy experimentally deal out cards at lightning speed. "You certainly have a good eye. You must be a professional."
"Naturally," Remy smiled smoothly collecting the cards. "I'm a man of many talents. Speaking of which, where's the mattress section around here?"
"This way, sir," The pair of sales representatives giggled leading Remy away. "We have the finest selection of premium-made mattresses of anywhere in the country."
"Sounds nice," Remy flashed a charming grin. "Though I may need a little professional assistance from you two lovely femmes. Gotta do some product testing after all…"
"Ohhh, this feels good," Mastermind purred sprawled back on a deluxe, deep cushioned sofa. He let out a contented sigh and closed his eyes in relief. "Finally, my own personal refuge on which to relax and rest. No lumpy spots. No broken springs jabbing me in the back. I feel like I'm on a cloud. I'll finally be able to lie down whenever I want and simply drift off without a care in the world…"
BOOM!
CRASH!
SMASH!
CRACK!
POW!
POP!POP!POP!POP!POP!
"AAAIIIEEEEEEEEE!" Screams and shouts began ringing throughout the store.
"Provided I ever manage to block out all the distractions caused by those chaos-causing lunatics," Mastermind groaned while resisting the urge to open his eyes. "Dare I even ask what those inane agents of destruction are doing now?"
"Oooh, these are so cute!" Pyro giggled ripping out various shelves from their respective bookcases and tossing them onto a large, growing pile. "I'll take you and you and you…hmmm, these shelves aren't very good. Let's just throw the whole lot out!"
"Somebody stop that guy!" A frazzled floor manager cried while futilely attempting to restrain Pyro. "He's ruining all the bookshelves! Get some interns over here!"
"We can't!" A gasping sales assistant reported. "That same nut started a recliner rodeo in the Seasonal department and they're all trying to deal with it!"
"You mean they're trying to stop the rodeo?" The floor manager asked.
"No," The sales assistant shook his head. "Our interns are betting on it and acting as riders!"
"Yahooo!" A series of excited shouts were heard in the distance. "Come on, lucky Laz-E-Girl! Mama needs a new pair of throw pillows!"
"Sir! Please stop shredding all the upholstery!" An alarmed sales representative wailed. "Those are not scratching posts…YAAAHHHHHH! NOT MY PANTS! YEEEOOOWWW!"
"Help!" More panicked wails rang throughout the store. "Some crazy kid wrapped me up in a hammock and I can't get out!"
"Some wild-haired brute stuffed me into a bean bag chair and I can't get out!"
"Look out! The cushions are on fire! No, not the limited-edition bolsters too!"
"Will you people stop having massage chair races?!"
CRACK!
"Oops," Piotr blinked standing next to a newly broken desk. "Sorry about that. I was simply testing it for durability."
"How in the world did that happen?" A shocked sales representative gawked at the scene. "That desk was solid metal!"
"Uh, design flaws?" Piotr gulped nervously.
"Here we are," The pair of female sales representatives smiled showing Remy a selection of fully furnished beds. "Our premium mattress collection. Guaranteed to give you the best sleep of your life."
"Who said anything about sleeping?" Remy grinned gently falling back onto one of the mattresses. He smiled charmingly at the two sales representatives while wiggling his eyes suggestively. "So femmes, how about we start with the product testing and give the term 'nightstand' a whole new meaning…oooppphhh!"
"Hey, watch it!" A brunette-haired woman yelped from where she had been lying on the same mattress. Her back had been turned away and Remy had nearly laid down on her.
"Oops, sorry about that," Remy apologized moving aside. "Didn't know this bed was occupied…YOU!"
"YOU!" Denise's enraged eyes glared dangerously at Remy. "YOU LOW-DOWN, CHEATING, WOMANIZING BUM! YOU'RE BACK TO YOUR OLD TRICKS AGAIN, I SEE!"
"No!" Remy yelped leaping off the bed and frantically backing away in terror. "You got it all wrong! This is just a simple misunderstanding!"
"Oh really?" Denise snapped pointing at the two confused sales representatives. "Then how do you explain them?!"
"They're simply assisting me!" Remy desperately babbled out an explanation. "All I want is a soft, quiet place to rest my head!"
"OH I'LL DO SOMETHING WITH YOUR HEAD, ALRIGHT!" Denise roared grabbing a nearby set of night lamps and began twirling them like escrima sticks. "I'LL 'ASSIST' YOU IN FINDING YOUR PERMENANT RESTING PLACE!"
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" Remy screamed running away with a furious Denise hot on his heels. "HELP! SECURITY!"
"OUTTA THE WAY! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" A mob of sobbing security guards ran by while being chased by a pack of runaway rocket-propelled rocking chairs. "THE CHAIRS ARE ATTACKING! ONE RAN OVER MY FOOT! WAAAHHHHHH! MOMMY!"
"AAAUUUGGGHHHHHH! WHERE DID ALL THIS SILLY STRING COME FROM?!" A crowd of terrified cashiers wailed. "AND HOW DID IT GET INTO ALL THE HEADBOARDS?! YIKES!"
"GAAAHHHHHH! LOOK OUT! FLAMING CARPETS ARE EVERYWHERE!" Staff and customers alike shrieked fleeing the store while dozens of burning carpets soared overhead. "SOMEBODY CALL AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL!"
"Hahahahaha!" Pyro cackled maniacally using his powers to direct the fiery flock of mats. "Aladdin, eat your heart out!"
"AAAUUUGGGHHHHHH!" A half-naked Kelly whizzed by while bound to a wheeled ottoman with his own pants and jacket. He also wore a blindfold made from the tattered remains of his tie. "HELP ME! I'M GOING TO BE SICK!"
"Serves ya right, punk!" Sabertooth grinned leaning back in his prized wine-cooler equipped armchair while swatting Kelly's passing ottoman into a spin. "How about we start a life-sized air hockey game in this joint using you as the puck? Or better yet, a pinball!"
"I am not here. I am not here," Mastermind chanted while desperately attempting to block out the sounds of madness and insanity raging about him. "I am not responsible for this and have never met any of these idiotic lunatics in my life. I am not here…"
"Hey you!" A familiar female voice suddenly caught his attention. "Fancy seeing you again!"
"Huh?" Mastermind shot up snapping out of his trace. "Tracee?"
"Hi!" Tracee smiled sauntering up to Mastermind. "It's been a long time. How have you been?"
"Fine! Just fine!" Mastermind said quickly running a hand over his rumbled hair and clothes. "Sorry I didn't contact you after our date. I tried calling you at the fitness center a few times, but I kept having connection issues…"
"Really? Huh, I never heard about that," Tracee remarked. "Sorry I missed your calls. That actually happens to me a lot. I'm usually really busy and have a hard time picking up a phone."
"It's okay. My calls weren't that important," Mastermind assured her. "I mean, of course they were important because they were made to you. I mean, I wanted to make sure you had gotten home okay. I mean I missed you. Uh, I mean…"
"Aw, that's so sweet," Tracee smiled fondly. "I missed you too. Hey, since you're here, want to hang out and help me with a few things?"
"Of course," Mastermind agreed immediately. "I'll do anything! Just name it."
"Great," Tracee beamed. "I finished picking out a few pieces from the store's latest seasonal collection and could use a hand loading them into my car."
"Sure thing," Mastermind nodded. "I'll go find a couple floor assistants and a forklift…"
"Oh, there's no need for them," Tracee waved. "I prefer to lift and move furniture myself. It's cheaper, healthier and really good exercise!"
"What?!" Mastermind yelped as Tracee eagerly dragged him away. "Ahhh! Hold on a minute…"
"Don't worry, I've already paid for everything," Tracee said. "All we have to do is load and carry stuff out. There are only half a dozen chairs, tables, workout benches, weight racks…"
"WHAT?!" Mastermind yelled. "No! Wait…GAAAHHHHHH!"
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Ploooooossshhh!
"Ew! Yuck! Water beds are no fun," Pyro frowned as a line of broken water beds burst open. "No worries, mates! I'll turn 'em into a set of comfy, flamey fire beds instead!"
"What?!" Piotr yelped. "No!"
FA-WHOOOOOOSSSHHH!
"YAAAHHHHHH!" More people frantically ran by as a herd of rounded, upended coffee tables rolled after them. "HELP! IT'S A FURNITURE STAMPEDE!"
"AGGGHHHHHH! COME BACK HERE!" Sabertooth shouted chasing after his runaway wine-cooler quipped armchair. "NOBODY TOLD ME THIS SUCKER WAS MOTORIZED! OR HAD WHEELS! WHAT KIND OF CRAZED MANIAC DESIGNED THIS THING?!"
"DIE, YOU CHEATING CAJUN, DIE!" Denise roared as Remy desperately dove into a thick, sturdy wardrobe and frenetically held the doors shut. She determinedly attempted to open them. "YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME FOREVER!"
"I CAN TRY!" Remy cried.
"OH YEAH?! WELL HOW DO YOU LIKE THIS?!" Denise cackled evilly before tipping the wardrobe onto its front, locking Remy within. "NOW TO DROP SOMETHING ONTO YOUR TRAPPED HIDE! WHERE DOES THIS PLACE KEEP ITS SAFES?!"
"WHAT?! NOOOOOOOOO!" Remy wailed and frantically tried to escape. "YAAAHHHHHH, LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!"
"See? This isn't so bad," Tracee smiled as she and Mastermind toted a large, heavy bureau between them. "I think this will go perfectly between my treadmill and squat slash pull up rack."
"I think I have a hernia," Mastermind wheezed staggering under the burden. "Though it's hard to tell apart from all the pain coursing through my shoulders, legs and back. Ohhh…"
"Gotta say, stores are sure going all-out on promotional displays these days," Tracee commented causally glancing at all the burning furniture. "They must be having a fire sale or something."
"More like a firestorm of pain," Mastermind moaned. "Just like my kneecaps. Aggghhh!"
WHOOOOOOSSSHHH!
"Wheeeeee! Hahahahaha!" Pyro laughed maniacally as a double line of hope chests and hat racks went up in flames. "Yeah! Yeah!"
"MY CHAIR!" Sabertooth howled as a flying industrial-sized storage unit landed on his wayward armchair and smashed it to smithereens. "NOOOOOOOOO!"
"WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME?!" Kelly screamed as the tidal wave of rampaging furniture swept him away. "WAAAUUUGGGHHHHHH!"
"Who glued all the bar stools to the ceiling?!"
"They aren't glued! They've been welded!"
"I've heard of throw rugs and pillows before, but throw sofas?!"
BUMP! BUMP!
CRASH!
"LOOK OUT! HELP! AAAIIIEEEEEEEEE!" The few remaining store employees wailed while frantically attempting to escape.
"And I thought knock-down furniture was just an expression," Piotr sighed standing in the eye of the unstoppable madness maelstrom. "I never knew it could be taken literally!"
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men: Evolution.