"Not me!"
"Not me!"

Jamie Madrox, aka the Multiple Man, ran his hand through his brown hair and paced nervously, watching his dupes scurry about. The things I do for extra work.

Spinning around in his pacing circuit, he bumped smack into a very pissed off Cajun. A dupe popped out from the impact and hurried off to join the rest of the work crew.

"What is dis?!"

"What?" Jamie scanned Remy, clad in his outfit for the fic, which consisted entirely of what looked like a pair of black lycra bike shorts. He was thrusting out a can of soda, holding it like it was a dead rat.

"Dis...dis...insult! Remy only drink Diet Pepsi. Diet. Not Pepsi, not Pepsi One, 'n definitely not Coke! Ev'rybody know dat! How 'm I supposed to work like dis?!"

Jamie took the can from him, plastering on an understanding smile. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.

"I am so sorry Mr. LeBeau! We will get you a replacement immediately." Jamie punched one hand with his fist, (a little harder than really necessary), and a new dupe appeared. "Please go get Mr. LeBeau a Diet Pepsi."

As the dupe hurried off, Remy spun on his heels and paraded back to his dressing room, yelling something about needing more body oil.

Frickin' third-person talking, fan-girl getting, over-exposed primadonna!.......Happy thoughts...cherry popsicles.....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jamie? Sinister just arrived."

It's about time! Jamie steeled himself and approached the imposing seven-foot villain standing by the doorway. Sinister stood regally in an exquisite tuxedo with some sort of opera cape draped over his shoulders. He scared the hell out of Jamie.

"Hello dear boy! Apologies for the delay, a sillyfic I was in went a tad long. Dreadful things, those, quite undignified."

Jamie laughed nervously. "Yeah,.....um...no problem....your, uh....costume is waiting for you in your dressing room."

"Excellent." Sinister removed his cape, which was quickly taken by one of the dupes buzzing about. "And in what genre are we working with here?" His mouth turned down to a distasteful frown. "Not another sillyfic, I hope."

"Um..." Jamie shifted restlessly. "No...it's...uh....slash." He prayed Sinister did not know what that meant.

"Slash? Ah, good, a nice piece of violence is just what I need right now."

"Yep...uh..gotta go...got an impatient writer up there. Better get into your costume." The dupes started to lead Sinister off and Jamie walk-skipped away as quickly as possible for the nearest bottle of antacid.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay, okay, are we finally ready?" Jamie faced sitting the set, clutching a bottle of antacids that was definitely showing signs of warping.

On the standard Sinister's Lab Set (tm), finishing touches were being put on Gambit's body oil, and a dupe was checking the bindings that held Remy down on the standard Metal Examining Table (tm). Sinister stood off to one side in his Mr. Sinister costume, looking disinterested.

"Okay, this is a rough draft, so you know the drill. Take your initial pose and then the writer is in control. Stagehands clear the set and someone get that Pepsi can out of there!"

"Diet Pepsi, homme!"

cherry popsicles, cherry popsicles....

The lights dimmed briefly for the disclaimer, and when they came up again, Sinister had assumed his patented evil scientist grin. Jamie shuddered. Gambit's chest gleamed as he began struggling in his bonds. The writer was in control now.

"So," Sinister started. "the little thief wanted to steal some of my files." Sinister moved closer to Gambit, clearly relishing his role.

Jamie began to gather his dupes around him, forming a protective shield.

"Non. Gambit not come for files. Gambit come for you."

"Ah, you seek to defeat me? Do you not see how futile that endeavor is?" Sinister's facial muscles spelled out malicious amusement, but his eyes showed uncertainty as he lifted his hand and placed it on Gambit's oily thigh.

Remy was quite skillfully surpressing a repulsed shiver. "Gambit not wan' to defeat you, Gambit wan' to be wit' you. De X-Men, dey turned me away, 'n I got no place to go. If you wan' me, I'm yours."

Sinister's eyes widened as much as his limited control allowed as he watched his own hand slide up Gambit's body and stroke the Cajun's chest. Fingers rested idly on one nipple. Jamie started slowly sinking down in his seat.

"I have long wished to hear you say that LeBeau. Yes....you shall be mine." Sinister jerked slightly and then began to bend to Remy's lips. Remy tilted his head back as Jamie slunk all the way to the floor, not bearing to watch.

Sinister was within 2 inches of Remy's face when he began to spasm, muscles jerked, tendons jumped. Jamie watched through his dupes' eyes as Sinister, with agonizing effort, wrested control back from the writer.

Sinister, still bent over, yelled directly into Gambit's face, spraying him with spittle. "ENOUGH!"

Uh oh.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!" Sinister was upright now, waves of indignation poring off him, fighting off the last vestiges of the writer's control.

Gambit seemed to have been freed in the process as well, and was cursing loudly in French. "Merde! Someone get me a towel and untie me!"

"MADROX!"

In Jamie's highly agitated state, he lost control of his dupes and they parted like the red sea before the advancing supervillian.

"Y-yes sir?" Jamie gazed imploringly at the behemoth towering over him. Sinister reached down and lifted him up by his shirt to eye level. He glared at Jamie for several seconds, too furious to talk.

I will not wet myself...I will not wet myself...

"If you EVER," Sinister was punctuating his words by shaking the limp stage manager, "EVER deceive me again, I shall personally VIVISECT you, clone you, and vivisect you AGAIN, until I get bored." Sinister leaned in close. "And I LIKE to vivisect. Do you UNDERSTAND!"

All Jamie could manage was a hoarse whisper that sounded like "Huuuuuhhhaaaaa."

Jamie was tossed unceremoniously towards a group of cowering dupes. "Good DAY, gentlemen! "

Jamie was helped to his feet just in time to see Sinister stalk out, dupes scattering before him.

"Al-lo-o-o-o! Remy needs to be untied! Snap to it! Merde, Remy can no' work wit' such unprofessional behavior. Ev'n Sabretooth handles himsel' better! Lemme out o' here, Remy got an angst fic to get to! An' where's my Diet Pepsi!"

Jamie sent some dupes over to the squirming Gambit, and collapsed in a nearby chair. Well, that went well.

"Cut, print it!"

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