“So call the psychic hotline now on the number you see below, and get your FREE psychic reading!” the television said in a soft voice while the picture showed a woman on the phone looking as though a great weight had been taken off her ample shoulders.
“Y’know,” Ange remarked, watching, “I bet they rake in lots of money.”
Jubilee nodded, intent on the fanfic she’d gotten off the internet. She had to make sure it really was suitable to leave in Scott’s room where someone would find it. So far, Phoenix (who they were calling Samantha) and Gambit (who was Jacque) were both making out with Iceman’s cousin. It was pretty heavy, and Jubilee was thinking it was perfect. Now if only they’d throw in some gratuitous violence.
“You ever notice how everyone hates the X-Men, but they have their own fanclub online?” she asked without looking up.
“Yup. Ever notice how funny some of the names and personalities they give us are?” Angelo replied.
“I saw one where Bobby--only they called him Alex--was angsting over his wife--Rogue--only they said her name was Sydney,” Jubilee snickered.
“I can beat that,” Ange said with an evil grin. “I saw one that was old--from when you were with the X-Men, I’d bet, where you and Wolverine were--”
“Anybody seen a glue gun?” Bobby asked, walking by.
Both teens were quiet. “Nope,” Jubilee finally said. Bobby left. Skin went back to his TV program.
Jubilee, deciding that this fic was good enough, took it upstairs and left it with the corner just sticking out from under Scott’s pillow.
When she got back downstairs Angelo was grumbling about psychic hotlines again. Apparently there’d been three more commercials for it. “I bet those people aren’t even real psychics,” he mumbled. He stopped and looked up, meeting Jubilee’s gaze.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Pinky?” Jubilee asked, a glow that was never good entering her eyes.
“I think so, Brain. But how are we going to get enough telephones?”
Jubilee smiled. “Leave that to me.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Are you, or someone in your family, an actress?” Everett asked half an hour later to a woman on the other end of the line. She giggled.
“Why,” she said breathlessly, “My great aunt’s husband’s nephew’s cousin was! She had a walk on part in “I Dream Of Genie” once.”
Everett rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m sensing that. It runs in the family. Did you ever want to act?”
“Why, yes, always!” the voice answered in awe. “You’re amazing!”
Everett tried hard to keep his smirk out of his voice.
“Do you think I should go on the cruise this summer?” she asked.
“I think . . . let me concentrate . . . yes. You should go on that cruise this summer--unless something arises that you should stay home for. Your own mental powers are so great I can’t see as clearly as I normally can. Ah, well you three minutes are up. Good bye!” He hung up the phone, finally giving in to the urge to laugh.
“Okay, I finished hanging up the posters all around Salem,” Angelo said, tossing Scott’s cars keys on the bed, “Have we gotten any calls yet?”
Jubilee smirked. “We’ve got six phones now, and all of them are busy.” Already Everett had picked up another call.
Angelo eyed the extension cords going out the door and into other rooms where other phone lines were. “Yeah, I noticed the extra phones.”
Jubilee shrugged. “You wanna help or just stand there?”
Angelo looked doubtfully at the ringing phones. “I don’t know how.”
“You ask stuff like if there’s ever been an actor or actress in the family, cuz everyone can find a link, tell them they have a very strong aura, y’know, things they want to hear.” She smiled angelically.
“You’re amazing. I’m so glad they haven’t converted you to the side of good,” Angelo said, shaking his head slowly.
Jubilee blushed. “Yeah, I know.”
Leech picked up a phone in the corner. “This is the psychic hotline. Please hold.” Leech happily put the man on hold, where he would stay there until the charge had been run up to at last $5.
“Psychic hotline. Please hold,” Franklin said just before his eyes bugged out and he disconnected the caller. “Jubilee?” he said softly, swallowing hard. “I think that was my mom.”
Jubilee’s face went white. “Okay, okay, no need to panic. Quick, disassemble the phones and put them back where you got them! Franklin, you think that if she calls back you can just tell her you were dared to say that?”
He nodded solemnly. He would sacrifice himself for the good of the group.
“Okay, then, all we have to do is hope that no one finds us on our way back to the rooms--oh hi, Bobby!”
Iceman looked at all of them, debating whether or not to just ignore them and pretend this was all a bad dream. He took another bite of doughnut and continued down the hall.
“Okay, let’s go.” One of the phones Jubilee was holding started to ring, and she picked it up. “Yello?”
“I’m looking for the psychic hotline, is this it?” said a low and sexy voice.
“Yes, of course,” Jubilee said, giving a great sigh of relief.
“Jubilation Lee, you are in such trouble!” the voice said, changing suddenly from low and breathy to an exact replica of Jean’s.
“You tricked me!” Jubilee shouted into the receiver.
“You’re right! I was hoping Sue was wrong when she called the private line just now and said you were doing this!”
“You tricked me! That was an invasion of privacy,”
Angelo shook his head.
“Well, it was something illegal! I’m sure!”
Footsteps started up the stairs, and Jean’s voice outside the phone could be heard stronger now. “You’re darn right I tricked you! How dare you set up something like this!? You want to talk about illegal, this is it!” Jean reached the top of the stairs, the other X-Men starting to straggle in to see what all the commotion was about.
“This is the professor’s fault!” Jubilee cried into the phone while looking directly at Jean. “If he had taught me better then I wouldn’t be doing this!”
“That’s no excuse, young lady!” Jean snarled back, her green eyes snapping as she didn’t bother taking the phone away from her ear. “And the rest of you following her! Jubilee, there are children in this group! Talk about a bad influence!”
“Hey, Gambit, Bobby and Psylocke are the bad influences! I’m just a kid! They steal, goof off and sleep around respectively!” Jubilee retorted hotly.
“Gambit, Bobby and Psylocke have their own problems. And they’re adults--you’re not! They can do as they like!” Jean retorted.
“At least I’m not like Scott,” Jubilee cried, glaring at the fearless leader. “At least I don’t download sick fics about everyone having sex and read them--probably every night!”
Bobby and Rogue exchanged glances, while Scott’s face turned red with anger. “That’s the most obscene thing I’ve ever heard!” he said, furious that she would spread rumors like that.
“But it’s true! I saw it myself while looking for your car keys!” Jubilee snapped back, ignoring Skin who took the phone away from her ear since she apparently wasn’t going to.
Bobby and Rogue flew/iced down the hallway, fighting to get there first. This they had to see.
“Jubilation Lee, stop changing the subject!” Jean said, bringing people back into focus. “You children have caused nothing but trouble for us since we got here; I don’t hear complaints of this sort from Sean and Emma! If you kids don’t start to behave--”
“WHOA!” came Iceman’s voice from down the hall as he and Rogue walked up, each carrying pages from the fic.
“Can ya really fit inta that position?” Rogue asked incredulously, her jaw on the floor.
“I dunno,” Bobby laughed, “But I may have to find out!”
Remy, thoroughly curious, peered over Bobby’s shoulder to read. He whistled low. “Scott, y’ been readin’ dis stuff? Shame on you!” He grinned evilly.
Cyclops glared at him. “No I have NOT been reading that!”
“Are you sure, one eye? ‘Cause we found it under your pillow.” Iceman was grinning from ear to ear.
“I already told you, I DON’T READ THAT!”
Jean grazed lightly over Bobby’s mind after getting his consent, and her green eyes almost fell out of her head. “Maybe you should start,” she muttered before she even realized what she was thinking.
Scott’s mouth fell open. “Jean!”
“Start what?” Leech asked, tugging on Bishop’s jacket. Bishop was too involved in the fic to even notice that he was surrounded by his worst enemy--children.
“Not now, kid. Go away,” he said, swatting at Leech as he would a particularly annoying pest.
“Is anyone here?” Came a female voice from downstairs.
Jean looked up, glaring at Iceman to no avail. Finally she ripped the fic out of his hands and hid it. “Up here, Sue!” she called back.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
N’Gari grabbed the opening of the bottle in his mouth/snout and swilled it back. “Y’know the baaad part about Irishmen?” he asked drunkenly, weaving back and forth across the bed.
“Wha’?” Moira answered, straining to see through her drunken haze.
“They shmelly.”
“Aye, tha’ they are.” Moira agreed, setting her glass down with the intense concentration of the utterly smashed.
“An’ they gotsh licshe.”
“’licshe?” Moira asked, falling down on the floor.
“Yup. Licshe. Li’l it’y bit’y bugies. Yuckch.”
Moira nodded, the effort causing her to finally pass out.
N’Gari snuggled up on her chest and fell asleep. Two hours later he was very much awake and flying as fast as he could--which was really quite fast--to Banshee’s bungalow.
He crashed through the window, startling Emma and saving Sean from a fate worse then death. “GUESH WHAT!” the N’Gari Eater screeched, flapping his wings excitedly.
Sean tried to get the watermelon sized creature to move away and stop beating his face with it’s wings, but it was no use. “What?” he cried, still being smacked.
“I GOTS TA DRINK VODKA!”
Sean frowned. “Lad, A dinnae think ye should be drinkin’ Vodka,” Sean said, finally managing to wrap his arms around the thing.
“BUT I DID! AND NOW I FEEL REALLY GOOD!” He started hopping up and down within Banshee’s arms, effectively taking the Irishman with him. “WHAT’S IN VODKA?”
“Lots an’ lots of alcohol,” Sean said, grunting with the effort of trying to keep his feet on the floor as the N’Gari Eater tried to flap his wings again.
Emma, laughing on the other side of the room so hard she couldn’t even sit up, was no help at all.
“OH. THAT EXPLAINS IT, THEN!” N’Gari cried.
“What di’ ye mean?” Sean grunted as N’Gari planted one small, dully clawed foot in his stomach.
“N’GARI EATERS DON’T LIKE ALCOHOL. THEY’RE ALLERGIC. {{{SQWARCK!!!!}}}”
Sean’s eyes widened. “N’Gari, lad, STOP BOUNCING! All right, then. *How* allergic are ye?”
“FIRST,” N’Gari screeched, “WE GET REAL HYPER. THEN WE GET REAL ANNOYING. THEN WE BOUNCE. THEN WE DIE.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I thought this was a respectable school!” Sue Richards said, her son’s hand in hers. “Apparently I was wrong.”
“It was just a little prank,” Scott tried to reason, but she cut him off.
“While you were talking with Jubilee and the other older kids, Leech, Franklin, Artie and I had a little talk. What is this about exploding the vacuum on purpose? Trying to mail an annoying student away?* Spider-Man pasting them to the walls?** Getting kidnapped?*** Bishop having a nervous breakdown?**** Jubilee and Skin trying to convince Artie, Leech and Franklin that they’re dogs?!*****”
“I can explain,” Scott started, trying to calm the irate mother down.
“Yeah, and I heard about you getting time in jail!******” she shot back, wilting Scott.
“That was all a mistake,” Jean said, coming to her husband’s rescue. Sue made a distinctly unladylike noise.
“Well, that’s all fine and dandy, but I think I’ll be taking my child home anyway. His bags are packed.” She glared at each X-Man in turn, daring them to refute her decision. None did. Turning, she picked up the few suitcases and walked out the door, Franklin in tow.
“Come back soon!” Leech wailed, while Artie made sad pictures of friends leaving above his head.
“I will! I promise!” Franklin called before climbing into the car behind his mother.
“THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” Leech screeched, kicking first Scott’s then Bishop’s shins. “WE WANT MR. BANSHEE BACK!” He sobbed, running out of the house with Artie on his heels.
Bishop remembered his paralyzing fear of children and ran, screaming, into the bathroom where he locked the door.
Rogue and Cannonball flew after the two littluns, glaring at Scott first who was tumbling down the stairs after being knocked off balance by jumping around and holding his smarting shin, then getting pushed ever so slightly by an angry Joseph.
“Wait, kids! It’s all right!” Rogue cried, her voice growing distant.
Jubilee, Angelo and the others took this moment to make themselves scarce.
“I’m going to kill every child I see from now on!” Scott screamed from where he lay at the bottom of the stairs, effectively immobilized thanks to the fact that his ruby glasses had come off during his fall. Iceman stepped on him on the way down.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“MOIRA! MOIRA! OPEN UP YER DOOR, LASS!” Banshee wailed.*7*
“HOW DRY I AM!” sang a horribly off-key croak, “HOW WET I’LL BE! IF I DON’T FIND! THAT I CAN’T PEE!”
“N’Gari, Sean growled, trying to keep the beast from crawling out of his leather jacket, “That’s nae how th’ song goes.”
“AN’ WHO’RE YOU TO CRITISHE MY SHINGING?” the N’Gari Eater said, flapping hard against Sean’s chest.
A passing man looked at the Irishman oddly, then shook his head and muttered something about being too drunk for his own good.
“MOIRA! OPEN TH’ DOOR! YE GAVE ME N’GARI ALCOHOL, AND NOW HE’S DYIN’!”
At last a very sleepy looking MacTaggert opened the door, blinking in the moonlight. “Wha’ ‘re ye talkin’ aboot ye ravin’ lunatic?”
Sean pushed her aside, making his way into the bungalow. “Moira, lass, ye have ta help me! Ye gave me N’Gari alcohol, an’ he’s allergic! He’ll die!”
At that Moira’s gaze sharpened a bit, and she took the creature from the distraught man. “Tell me Sean, what di’ ye ken aboot these creatures other then they eat N’Gari’s?”
He bit his lip and shuffled under her gaze.
Moira swore and took the thing into the bathroom, shouting for Sean to go get the hydrogen peroxide. “We’ll hope it’s works on him as well as it does on other animals,” Moira said, glaring at Sean as she snatched the liquid from him. “I cannae believe ye were this irresponsible. Tis almost as bad as ye datin’ Emma!”
“A’m nae datin’ Emma!” Sean snapped, holding the N’Gari Eater down while Moira tried to keep his mouth open.
“Sure ye’re not,” Moira said sarcastically, trying to shout above the warbling notes of a butchered rendition of “White Christmas.”
“ALL THE TREES TOPS GLISTEN! CUZ KIDS KEEP MISSIN’! THE FEAR OF CAMPIN’ ESKIMOS!” N’Gari croaked happily, totally uncaring of the danger he was in.
“What are ye doin’?” Sean said as Moira finally was able to hold N’Gari’s mouth long enough to pour half the bottle of peroxide down his throat.
“This should make th’ wee beatsie throw up. Hopefully, he’ll throw up th’ alcohol too.”
Sean blanched. “Y’mean y’ just made me poor baby sick!?”
Moira glared at him. “Aye! A do mean A saved his life!”
Sean looked sadly down at the beast, which had suddenly stopped singing and turned a funny sort of orange-green. “I must thank ye, Moira.” He looked up at her, hope back in his eyes. “Surely ye wouldna have done somethin’ like this if ye didn’t still care for me a little?”
Moira snorted, and--just to prove her point--took Banshee by the back of his pants and threw him and his pet out into the night.
Sean rolled, landing on his back and facing the door that had just been slammed, the N’Gari Eater on his stomach.
“Seany boy?” N’Gari croaked sickly.
“What is it, lad?” Sean could feel something disturbingly wet soaking through his thin t-shirt.
“I just threw up. And I gotta again.”
Sean groaned.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Scott’s a meanie, meanie booger face!” Leech shouted from his tree house to the small group assembled below.
“Ah know he is, darlin’, but that doesn’t mean ya don’t have ta stay up there!” Rogue crooned, trying to get the two children to come down.
“It’s all his fault that Franklin had to leave! We’re never coming down again until Mr. Banshee gets back!”
Rogue sighed and looked despairingly at Bobby. “What are we gonna do?”
“They slept out there for days when Banshee was here,” Everett said logically. “They have heating blankets, outlets to plug them in, everything they could want. And the biosphere is kept warm.”
Rogue sighed and shrugged. “Well then, Ah guess that we’ll jist leave ‘em here foh the night.”
Bobby nodded, and the group walked inside.
“That meanie Cyclops,” Leech said to Artie, “Leech thinks it’s time to bring out the big guns and really show him who’s boss.”
Artie nodded emphatically.
Four days left...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
* They tried to get rid of Herbert this way, remember?
** same chapter with the Herbert bit.
*** Bishop arranged this in chapter 15
**** This happened when his attemp failed. >:D
***** This was in one of the very beginning chapters, but I don’t quite remember which one. ;)
****** he was arrested for child abuse. (Artie, Leech and Franklin gave a nice lady the WRONG idea.) Chapter 7
*7* I couldn’t help the pun. It just snuck in. :)
Back to the X-Mansion
Back to the living room