Crickets chirped as Xavier sipped his coffee in his Victorian ornated study. They stopped chirping as he spit it all over his new cherrywood desk, the hot Mocha flavored liquid scalding his tongue.

The door flew open and Jubilee hurried in to see what was wrong with her visiting mentor. "Professor! Are you okay?"

"Water--water!" he choked, his eyes leaking.

Jubilee nodded quickly, overly happy to help, and grabbed a canteen from her pocket. She shoved it into the professor's face, letting him gulp the cool fluid down to chill his burning mouth.

The water, however, had augmented the burning sensation and he pleaded with Jubilee, "More! More!"

"Hey," she mumbled unhappily under her breath, "That's expensive." Her canteen now empty, Jubilee reached into a cupboard and grabbed a bottle of--AHEM--water.

The Professor, after drinking down the last of the dregs, lost the painful burning. And noticed that LiFe WaS GoOd.

Somewhere in the distance a TV played the news about Indonesian riots in regard to mutants.

The professor scoffed. "Y'know Juhbilee," he breathed, "th' problem wif th' world taday is that no one lovesh each ot'er." He concluded his statement with a loud hiccup.

Jubilee started to giggle as the professor swayed to the inner love, singing "What's Love Got To Do With It." As he started to sway more rambunctiously in his chair, sweating heavily, eyes pinched shut and drool dripping out one corner of his mouth, Jubilee slowly backed away. Her eyes widened as he leaned farther and farther out, the chair rocking precariously. The professor's drunken act ceased as his chair flipped over and he bounced out along the floor.

Jubilee, in a panic as she heard footsteps coming down the hallway, pulled the still singing body of Professor X back into his chair, hauling it upright.

A knock sounded on the wooden door. "Professor?" came a deep voice.

Jubilee's heart fell to the floor as she ducked behind the professor's lethargic body.

"Co-oome IN!" the Professor sang.

Bishop slunk across the room, his eyes darting from one side to the other, hands shaking.

The professor giggled as he said "You LooK LiKe A ChiuwaWa!" Bishop's spine straightened. Temporarily. "I'm sorry, Sir . . . but are you feeling under the weather? You look . . . unlike your usual self."

The professor unwillingly straightened in his chair, squirming like a child as Jubilee poked him from behind.

"Don't tickle me there!" the professor whined.

Bishop's eyes widened. "Uh . . . I'm, uh . . . Sorry, Sir."

"It'sh a darn good, tootin' thing you are," the professor scolded with every ounce of his dignity (which wasn't much).

"Yhou know what?" the professor asked, leaning forward on his desk. "Yhou really aughta buy that bikini. Only, shee if it comes in pink an' lellow shtripesh." With each word his voice got quieter and he leaned further forward onto the desk, until he was flat out on his stomach and Bishop had to come near to listen. "AND THEN," he shouted, causing Bishop to jump back, "Yhou should go, an' tell tha' li'l horshe in th' backyard, tha' ya like her. 'Caushe ya know ya do."

As Bishop slowly backed away he stepped on the foreign canteen. He glanced down, and bent to pick it up. It was empty, and on one side was printed "RUSSIAN VODKA." Bishop's eyes narrowed as he scanned the room for conspicuous teenagers. On the sideboard sat another empty bottle, this one from the professor's own cashe and reading "SCOTCH."

Jubilee slid further down the back of the chair, praying he wouldn't see her. Bishop turned and walked out of the room, making sure to lock the door so that no one would see the professor's inebriated state. Jubilee heaved a sigh of relief.

Bishop went to get some coffee to sober the professor up while the professor went to the closet and pulled out his long retired combat helmet, placing it augustly atop his sweating Q-ball. Moving drunkenly, weaving his way between success and utter disaster, he made his way to the intercom.

"To th' War-Room, my ladsh and lasshesh!" he called.

Jubilee said only "Oh no," before paffing the lock off the door and running out of the room.

Charles set about getting himself ready to meet Generation X and the X-Men, gathering his weapons of mass destruction.

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Jean looked at Scott, frowning. "Do you have any idea why the professor called us in here?" she asked.

Scott shook his head. "No, but he sounded awfully upset."

Wolverine looked up as he smelled the professor approaching, saying "Uh oh," before leaving the room.

The room quieted as the door hissed open. His combat helmet tilted rakishly on one side of his head, his toilet bowl plunger waving in the air. Jean's eyes widened as she recognized the top to her pink bathing suit stretched across his frame, and the waist of his Pampers crinkled merrily underneath his cowboy belt buckle. Monet screeched at the sight of her knee-highs pulled over his hairy legs.

All mouths dropped open.

“Pro--professor? Are you all right?” Scott squeaked at last.

“SHUUUUUURE!” he said, rolling drunkenly into the room. “Gotta go get da bad guysh before dey RULE DA WORLD!”

Bobby started to snicker, though he really was trying not to. Rogue stomping on his foot helped. He turned around and iced her toes, and she was then also able not to laugh.

The professor gave a giant hiccup, and fell over in his chair, snoring. His combat helmet hung on for a minute, then toppled noisily to the ground. That was the last straw. Rogue, Bobby and Cannonball all erupted into laughter, Gambit not far behind in doing so.

“This is not funn--” Scott started, though he was also trying not to laugh. Suddenly the professor came awake again, glaring up at everyone. Slowly he wheeled over to the Iceman.

“You khnow,” he breathed, “If you would only moo better, then you might get a date.”

Rogue clamped her hand over Bobby’s mouth, holding in the laughter for him.

“And you,” Xavier said, almost falling out of his chair in an effort to get to Scott, “You otta get in toucth wif yer feminino shide. Go out and buy shome pretty panties.”

Scott’s face paled. “Uh, right . . .”

“Wanna shee MY pretty pantiesh?” Charles asked, eager to show everyone.

“NO!!!!” they screamed in unison, no one wanting to be subjected to his pasty white skin.

Xavier’s eyes started to tear up, and a minute later he started to bawl. “No one lovshe me!!!!” he wailed unhappily.

“Oh, no sir, that’s not it,” Jean said quickly, coming over and using her telepathic powers to make sure he didn’t use his in this state.

“What the world! Needs now! Is love! Shweet love!” the professor started to croon (or something). Most of Generation X covered their ears and ran out of the room as fast as their legs would carry them.

“JEAN!” The professor cried suddenly, hugging her. “Yhou’re preg-{hic} preg-{hic} preg-{hic} gonna haf a bay-by!” Her eyes widened in shock as he grabbed her in a bear hug.

“When’er the li’l kittens due?” he asked solemnly.

Jean looked up at Scott, mouthing “Kittens?” He shrugged. “Uh, very soon, sir. Very soon. So soon in fact that you should go hom--”

“Lesh haf a party,” he cried, throwing his arms in the air. Psylocke sighed and came forward.

“We’re having a party right now,” she said, touching his head briefly. Her eyes flashed and he passed out, a chainsaw buzzing in his throat where normally people only had snores. “Besty!” Scott cried, appalled that she would use her powers that way.

She shrugged. “Stick him on the Blackbird and take him home,” she said flippantly, walking out of the room.

Scott stood there sputtering while the others walked out. He glanced down once more at the professor, understanding now why the man never drank. “Hey, Bets?” he called out. “What if he wakes up? Shouldn’t you, you know, smack him harder?”

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The taxi pulled up in front of the bungalow as Sean pulled his oakleys over his eyes. He didn’t mind leaving, he was even anxious to see the kids. He hadn’t even thought of how Scott was doing the entire time; how could he with the problems between he and Emma?

As Sean picked up both his and Moira’s bags the rear door of the taxi opened and the cause of Sean’s demise stepped out. His mouth dropped as he stared at Emma twirling the straw from a martini in her lips.

“Good morning Sean . . .” Emma paused as Moira brought the last of the luggage out from the house. Slowly she lowered her sun glasses and glared at the Scotswoman. Sean stepped aside as Emma proceeded towards Moira, circling her.

Moira kept a stern face as she looked upon Emma with an inner rage. “What is it ye want here woman?”

Emma shrugged nonchalantly. “Nothing much, just thought I’d stop on the way to the airport to see if I could be of use.”

“We dinnae need yuir help lass!” Sean interrupted. N’Gari poked his head out of the pet carry case and nodded emphatically.

Emma purred maliciously and sipped her island beverage. “Oh, don’t try to hide it Sean, we both know that I’ve been of use . . . for you, anyway.” Emma smiled behind Moira’s shoulder as she bit on the straw and winked at Sean. Sean turned and loaded the baggage in the trunk of the taxi, gritting his teeth.

Moira felt slimy just being around Emma and practically ran to Sean’s side, escaping the woman. Emma followed Sean and Moira into the cab and gave a smile so evil the devil himself would have commended her.

Sean gave the signal to go and fell silent for the rest of the car ride.

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“NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO, Leech don’t want to!!!” Leech screamed as innocent tears rolled down his face.

“Please Leech, I need your help! Mr. Cassidy and Ms. Frost will be home in a few hours,” Scott pleaded with the green skinned child.

“Bobby says that there are giant snakes in the toilet that come up and eat you if you put something near the dark place!” Leech cried, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Scott’s face took on a red glow as his blood pressure steadily rose to an unhealthy level. He was going to kill Bobby for sure this time.

“There are no snakes in the toilet hole, now stick the brush down and clean it, *please*!!!” Scott took hold of the child’s hand and slowly guided the brush along the bottom.

Calming down, but still not completely okay with the situation, Leech didn’t divert his attention from the dark space at the bottom of the toilet bowl as Scott backed up a little. Everything appeared to be going well until bubbles started to arise from the bottom after someone had been running water downstairs. Upon noticing the bubbles Leech screamed in terror and started crying. “AAAIIIIEEEEEE, the snake is going to eat me!!!” The boy turned on a dime and inadvertently shoved the toilet cleaner in Scott’s face.

“AAAAHHHHHH, Leech!!!” Scott yelled as he vigorously dried his face with his white tee shirt.

Leech ran down stairs still crying and locked himself in Jubilee’s room. As Scott followed slowly behind he caught scent of something burning. Scott *flew* to the kitchen and bolted through the heavy door to find Artie standing in front of the open oven in Gambit’s culinary cap and overcoat as flames spat from the stove and smoke choked the kitchen.

“Get away from there, Artie!!!” Scott yelled as he ran and picked Artie up, almost throwing him away from the growing flames. Bobby heard the commotion and walked into the kitchen in time to douse the flames with a barrage of ice shards. Scott stood Artie up and fixed his ragged cap, wiping the smoke stained face.

“What were you doing?” Scott asked, far over-worked and red faced.

“I was just trying to cook dinner for Mr. Banshee and Ms. White Lady.”

Scott glanced at the oven, ignoring the fact that this was the first time Artie had ever spoken, and found two fully wrapped T.V. dinners charred.

Cyclops sighed as he looked at the kitchen wall and cupboards above the oven that were now completely burned and black in color. Another thing to fix before Sean and Emma got home.

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Sean placed the carry-on luggage in the overhead compartment and sat down in his window seat. Moira was afraid of flying and extremely claustrophobic and had to sit in the aisle, so Emma sat between them.

Sean couldn’t believe it, they were on their way home. He pitied Moira as he continued to watch the dull presentation of safety procedures the flight attendants were putting on. The speakers throughout the plane continued as Emma made her top more comfortable. “. . . In the event of a water landing, your seat may be used as a floating device . . .”

“You know,” Emma said with her finger to her lips, “I wonder what would happen if we crashed in the ocean on the way home. . . . Do you think that the plane would really float, or would we all sink and drown in the icy, airless abyss of the ocean?”

Moira’s eyes bugged out of their sockets as she clenched the seat’s arm rests. Emma looked at her and smiled, obviously pleased with the response.

Sean grabbed Emma by the arm and yanked her face close to his. “Ye are cruel, ye ken that? Moira’s terrified about flyin’ and ye know it! Now stop, or I’ll *make* ye’ stop.”

A flight attendant walked by and Emma seized the opportunity. “Oh, so anxious are you, well wait until we get home, darling.” Emma grinned and Sean blushed as the flight attendant lowered her eyes and hurried off.

Sean loosened his grip and Emma began tapping her foot on his.

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N’Gari peeked out of his pet carry case, eyeing the box that carried the Hunks of Succulent Muscles, reading “This End Up.” He slowly looked around the room, looking for a way to get out of this dratty carry case. Not seeing anything he shrugged and brought his tail forward, whipping the arrowhead against the grate. With a hiss the poison-like substance slid over the plastic, disintegrating it quickly and freeing the beast. N’Gari, pulling his wings tight against his body in order to fit out of the cage door, started singing the “Mission: Impossible” theme song as he slunk across the cold floor. N’Gari paused as he looked around the room, trying to find someplace warmer to lay his eggs. Ah! The air vents! He crawled into the air vents, his tightly furled wings brushing either side as he looked for the right spot. He slunk for what seemed like hours--but really was only a few minutes--until he found the right spot. It was hot and sort of muggy, and there was food nearby--donuts just outside the vent. What more did little eggs need?

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“I’m swinnnnngin’ on the chain!! Just swinnnnnngin’ on the chain!! What a glorious feelin’ I’m--”*

“Jubilee!” Hank cried, looking up at the girl as she hung from the chandelier, swinging back and forth slowly. “What are you doing up there?”

She smiled. “Hanging out.”

Beast eyed her, taking in the hands tied behind her back, the rope around her waist holding her tied to the light fixture. “Hold on a minute and I’ll get you down,” he growled, moving quickly to find a way up.

“NO! I mean, I want Scott to get me down.” She smiled angelically.

Hank eyed her, but was unable to make himself believe that the face that was so innocent looking could possible be up to no good. “All right, then. I’ll be right back.”

Up on the banister, Monet and Angelo sniggered. “Are you ready to push?” Monet asked, looking back around at Everett and Paige who stood behind the piano. “Yup!” they cried, grinning.

“Hold it. . . hold it . . . now!” As Scott moved into place below, trying to get the singing Jubilee, they shoved the piano off the banister, sending it crashing down to where Scott--hopefully--still stood.

Unfortunately, he’d already moved, and the piano crashed harmlessly to the ground. Jubilee glared at them as Scott yelled up threats.

The four teens ran off to find another piano, hoping they’d get another chance.

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“Can I have a horsie?”

“Yes.”

“A pony?”

“Yes.”

“A donkey?”

“Yes.”

Leech laughed happily. “Artie! Come quick! If you stare at Mr. Bishop he’ll give you whatever you want!”

Artie was there in a flash.

“Can Artie have a wig?”

“Yes.”

“Can Leech have a powersaw?”

“Yes.”

“Can--”

“Leech! Artie! Here you two are! Come on,” Jean said, scooping them up, “let’s go take a bath for Sean and Emma.”

The two boys exchanged looks of horror. “NOOOOOOO!!” They had to get away! They had to do something--anything! Just GET AWAY!!!!

Artie and Leech both kicked and screamed as Jean hauled the two of them towards the bathroom. They had heard stories about the bad snake that comes up from the drain to eat little kids from Bobby. What hadn’t Bobby told them? Jean kicked open the bathroom door and telekinetically turned the bath water on. Jean set them down but shut the door and locked it before they could get out. Leech stood, his legs clattering together.

“Please don’t make us!!!” Artie pleaded on his knees, tugging at Jean’s denim shorts.

Jean looked at Artie’s face, the dirt and asphalt spread out over his cheeks and chin. “NO! If Sean saw you two like this he’d flip!”

Before Artie could think of some other delay Jean saw Leech on the counter trying to open the window to climb out.

Jean sighed as she telekinetically set the both of them into the tub which was now ready to overflow.

“You put us in the bathtub in our clothes!” Leech said while backing away from the drain.

“Fine. . . If you two want to get undressed I’ll turn around!”

Leech and Artie looked at each other and then at the drain. That darn snake could come through the drain and take them in an instant Bobby said. They both agreed on taking a bath in their clothes.

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Moira’s hand shook as she tried to set the cup of coffee in her hand down into the holder on the seat. Emma looked at her with a smile on her face.

“Moira . . .We’re not goin t’crash lass!” Sean said, trying to pry her hand off the seat and into his.

“How do ye ken that Sean, haven’t ye noticed the ground is gettin’ closer every minute?”

Emma glared at Moira. “That’s because we’re landing, you half wit!”

Moira glanced from Emma’s eyes to Sean who was rubbing his forehead and murmuring something to himself.

“Flight attendant?” Moira asked while a lady in uniform walked by.

“Yes miss?” She asked with a kind smile.

“Could ye direct me tae th’ bathroom?”

“Certainly!”

Moira followed the flight attendant to the rear of first class and showed her the lavatory. Moira thanked her and stepped inside.

“What...NO SEATBELT?!” Moira said aloud to herself.

She felt her ears pop as the plane descended. Then a bump and she was slightly rocked to one side.

“Looks like a little turbulence coming out off the shore folks . . .” The pilot said over the speakers. “The flight attendants will come around to make sure that all seatbelts are secured and tables are up and locked.”

Moira stopped dead while fixing her hair in the mirror and glanced around the tiny room. “Turbulence?” Moira looked at the toilet. How was she going to flush? If she did she would be sucked out of the plane through the hole.

“No, of course not, how childish!” Moira scolded herself before looking back at the toilet. She carefully lowered the cover and grabbed the bar where the towel hung.

Before she could scream she was thrown violently against the wall as the plane dropped and regained altitude again. She could feel the tears building in her eyes as she whined for Sean.

She felt her stomach fall below her as the plane descended again.

Without further delay she flew out of the bathroom, down the hallway nearly knocking over an old lady and jumped to her seat.

Emma looked down her nose at Moira as if to scold her but rolled her eyes instead.

“Sean, I love ye, I’m never goin t’ leave ye again I swear it!” Moira said as she broke down into tears and kissed Sean.

“What exactly did you do in the bathroom?!” Emma asked with a disgusted look on her face.

Emma found herself sitting on the aisle seat as Moira clenched Sean’s arm while the plane lowered slowly to the runway. Upon touchdown Moira started clapping to herself and smiling with relief.

“Oh don’t clap yet,” Emma added. “We could still slide off the runway and go skidding down the grass in a ball of fire and smoke.”

Sean sighed.

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“I have shampoo in my eyes!” Leech wailed as he splashed water out of the tub and onto the floor.

“Don’t do that!” Jean yelled before taking a washcloth and wiping his eyes.

Gambit walked into the bathroom to find Jean soaked from head to toe and her hair in tangles.

“You need any help in here, chere?”

Jean whipped around, her teeth gritted. “Just get out Gambit . . .just get out!!!”

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As the plane started to slow, all the passengers getting ready to depart, the pilot of the giant thing frowned and looked up. “What is that sound?”

“It sounds like . . . bugs,” the co-pilot said after a minute, cocking his head to listen harder.

“OH MY GOD!” the pilot cried suddenly, watching in horror as a swarm of . . . something . . . came hissing out of the vents. “WHAT ARE THEY???”

“Flies?” the co-pilot said, batting them away from his face. “Mosquitoes?” the flight attendant suggested, running out of the room.

“Whatever they are,” the pilot hissed as they started to clog his instruments, “there’s a lot of them, and they’re going to make us crash!”

“I got it! I got it!” a flight attendant cried, running into the room with a flyswatter. “Dang, there’s so many!!”

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“Psssst.”

Sean looked around, frowning. There was quite a bit of commotion coming from the cockpit, people running in and out with cans of RAID and flyswatters. There also seemed to be some sort of bugs flying out . . . green, blue and black ones.

“Psssst.”

Sean frowned. “Aye, Moira?”

She looked up at him with big puppy eyes. “A dinnae say anythin’.”

“Psssst.”

Sean frowned harder. “Emma?”

“What?”

“Did ye say--”

“I said nothing of the sort, Cassidy.”

He nodded and settled back in his seat, trying to ignore the fact that Moira was squeezing his arm so tightly that he was loosing all feeling.

“Psssst.”

“All right, A ken it was one of ye--”

Something large and green sighed and hopped up from under his seat into his lap. “Ya know, SeanM’Boy,” N’Gari said, eyeing the Irishman, “Ya ain’t very shwift on th’ uptake.”

Sean grabbed the N’Gari Eater’s muzzle, keeping him quiet. “What are ye doin’ out o’ yuir box?” he cried, looking around to be sure no one had spotted the odd creature.

N’Gari pulled back, wiggling his snout back and forth before giving Sean a look of disgust. “I’m talkin’ ta you. I thought that was obvious . . .”

“That’s nae what A mean and ye know it!”

N’Gari stuck his tongue out at Sean. “Bad Sean.”

“No.”

“Bad Sean yell at N’Gari for coming to visit.”

“N’Gariiiiii . . .”

“Bad Sean bad bad bad!!”

“N’Gari! We’re on a plane an’ ye may get us in danger iffin ye do anythin’ stupid!”

The N’Gari Eater straightened at that, glaring fiercely. “Did you just call me shtupid?!”

“Nae, o’ course not . . .”

“BAAAD SEAN! PUNISHMENT!!” The N’Gari Eater flew off in a flurry of motion, already having attracted the interest of several onlookers with his screech of “punishment.”

Sean laughed uncertainly. “’Tis a game,” he said after a minute. There were nods of understanding and the people went back to what they’d been doing before.

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N’Gari fumed silently as he headed back to his carry box. There was something he had to do first, though. He stopped at the BIIIG box marked “Hunks of Succulent Muscles” and grinned. Yes. This was what he needed to do. Punishment. He grinned as much as a N’Gari Eater could, then held his tail up over his back, bringing it forward sharply and drenching the wood with poison. More like acid, really. He smiled as the wood disintegrated, leaving the Hunks of Succulent Muscles free to roam around.

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Meanwhile . . . .

“Jean, my dearest Jean, why are Artie and Leech’s clothes so undesirably saturated?” Beast asked, watching the two boys as they ran free and almost clean after their bath. Jean just turned and gave him That Look. “Ah.” Hank said, nodding. He turned and walked back into the lab, checking his calendar. No, it wasn’t That Time Of The Month yet. Must just be having a bad day.

He walked back out, noticing with relief that the coast was now clear. He trotted down the hall, whistling happily. “Hello, kiddies!” he cried when he spotted Everett and Monet pushing a piano down the hall.

“Hello,” they panted in unison.

“Where are you going with that fine piece of instrumental?” he asked conversationally.

“Nowhere.” Again, in unison. Beast watched with a cocked eyebrow as they continued down the hall, piano ahead.

“Ah, youth,” Hank said, then ventured on upstairs to pack.

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“Do you see him?” Monet asked into the walkie talkie, still with her shoulder to the piano.

“Yeah, keep going straight. Full tilt ahead!” Jubilee responded, laughing gleefully as she could imagine Scott’s face just before he got squished.

Cyclops strode purposefully down the hall, unable to see the piano coming because of the ledger he was reading to keep himself on schedule. He turned down a hallway, headed for the basement to get a vacuum. That seemed like a reasonable place to keep vacuums, to him.

Jubilee sighed as the piano whizzed right by, missing him by a hair’s breadth. The piano crashed against the far wall, and the three teens started to walk dejectedly away.

Scott came out of the basement just then, wondering where else vacuums might be kept. Then he noticed the piano. “Hey,” he said, frowning. “What happened here?”

Jubilee shrugged, not even bothering to turn around. “Science experiment.”

They walked off, leaving Scott behind. What sort of science experiment was that??

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“I can’t see the runway!” the pilot cried, swiping ineffectually at the bug-things that seemed to be everywhere.

“Pull up! Pull up!” the co-pilot shouted, armed with RAID.

The pilot did so, the plane careening back into the air.

The flight attendant ran out of the room again, almost falling as the airplane tilted sharply. From the back of the plane could be heard the sound of stomping feet, and she quickly made her way back there. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to sit down,” she said to the two LARGE men who were looking curiously around.

Ahead, in first class, Emma craned her neck around to see who the men were. Her jaw dropped when she noticed her Hunks of Succulent Muscle standing near the back of the plane. She snickered and turned back around, giving Sean an innocent look.

Just then a swarm of . . . small . . . things . . . flew out of the cockpit, devouring all the food around--and apparently that included leather and Styrofoam. Styrofoam Emma didn’t care about. Leather, however . . . She stood up and started running to the back of the plane.

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“Scott!” Jubilee called, standing underneath the treehouse. “Would you come show me how to . . . uh . . . throw someone over my shoulder?”

Cyclops smiled at her sudden enthusiasm for learning, and happily walked to where she stood. “First,” he said, moving toward her, “You put your shoulder in their shoulder.”

Above, M and Everett--the two strongest on the team, readied their newest piano for lift off. Everett was very glad of Warren’s large expense account, and Angelo’s pocket picking skills. “Ready?” he asked M.

She nodded and they sent the piano sailing over the edge of the tree house.

“Then, after you’ve thrown someone, you step away from them to make sure they can’t--” Scott was interrupted by a falling piano as he stepped back, under the tree house. “There seem to be a lot of pianos about today,” he said after a moment. Jubilee sighed, glared up at M and Ev, and walked into the house.

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Sean kissed Moira on the forehead before smiling at her and winking. He then stood up, fixed his shirt and followed briskly after Emma. He moved the curtain back that separated first class from the rest and lost his stomach when he saw Emma forcing back her recently stolen boy toys into a bathroom. He ran down the aisle to her side, his hands clenching the red locks of hair on his head.

“Yuir bleedin’ crazy are ye?!”

“Either help me or shut up, Sean!” Emma snapped while removing one of the Ookaboonie’s hand from her waist.

“A dinnae think that tis considered carry-on f’r the two o’these!” Sean helped Emma shove both men into the bathroom and slam the door shut.

Emma bent over, her hands on her knees and breathless.

“Ye ken . . . I’ll not be havin’ them at my school Emma, tis the last thing I need f’r Jubilee t’spot those lads runnin’ around in nothin but their loin cloths.”

“Oh that’s perfectly all right, darling. . . .” Emma stood smiling. “They’re going to be in my room . . . for a while anyway. You know how these things are; you use them to their highest potential then throw them away.”

Emma giggled to herself before brushing past Sean and making her elegant way to her seat again. Sean couldn’t help staring at her (ahem) figure as she strode off until he felt a fly, or something, hit his cheek. Slapping his cheek he cupped his hand to see what hit him and upon doing so noticed something odd about this little green bug. It wasn’t a bug at all. Sean cursed aloud as he examined the minute figure in his hand. N’Gari was a dead N’Gari.

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Jean knelt at the backdoor, her nails impaling her cheeks as she stared at Artie and Leech who stood head to toe covered in mud, grass and a mysterious brown paste that fumed and smelled absolutely rancid.

Artie glanced up from the ground as his foot made patterns on the porch and his fingers continued twirling his shirt bottom.

“We . . . We’re sorry Ms. Grey. . . . It was an ac . . . accident.” Leech mumbled, still not diverting his attention from the stained cuffs of his jeans.

Jean let out a long breath and pulled her hair back behind her ears. “All right. . . Would you two please hose off, then take your clothes off and hang them on the fence? I’ll go get you some new ones.” Jean smiled with a false light-heartedness before watching the two children eye each other and then her. “Oh, what is it Leech?” Jean said, exhausted.

“We might, but you’d see us naked.”

Jean giggled to herself. “I won’t look, I promise!”

“Cross your heart?!” Leech asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Cross my heart!” Jean said with a long sought after smile.

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Sean scratched his whiskers and pondered how to call N’Gari while not arousing the attention of the plane. He didn’t know how fast those things grew and he had a feeling N’Gari wasn’t about to give him answers very easily.

He looked around and found the intercom system of the plane with a flight attendant nearby. Sean walked over and leaned against the wall.

“Excuse me lass?” Sean asked the blond and clueless looking flight attendant, turning on his Irish charm. “Can ye tell me what such a fine lookin’ lass is doin’ all the way back here?”

The flight attendant blushed and twirled her hair around a finger as Sean moved closer, pushing her cart to the side.

The flight attendant giggled and bit her lip. “Hey Mister, you really shouldn’t be back here, you know you’re being a very bad boy.”

Sean ground his teeth and looked back to the front of the plane. “Ye ken yuir absolutely right, why don’t ye go to the front and I’ll meet ye up there t’. . . pick up where we left off from,” Sean said with a wink.

The flight attendant giggled stupidly and pranced to the front, leaving Sean the intercom system.

Sean picked up the phone and pressed 8 to get the lower galley with N’Gari. “Yuir attention please . . . will all ye N’Gari Eaters on the lower galley please move to the second level, first class, thank ye!”

Sean hung up the phone and watched down some steps as people turned their heads looking for the N’Gari Eaters, whatever they were.

It didn’t take N’Gari long to get out of his cage and start flapping happily up the stairs. He didn’t know how they knew about him, but obviously--

Sean grabbed the thing by its neck, hauling it away from curious eyes and into the back bathrooms. “Jest what’re all these tiny N’Garis doin’ all over?!” he hissed, Irish accent thickening.

“Duh,” N’Gari said, sighing as rolled his eyes. “They’re here ‘cause I laid eggs.”

“Eggs?!” Sean choked out, slapping the N’Gari Eater down on the small “sink.” “I thought ye were male!” “Oh. No,” N’Gari said after a moment.

“Ye’re a girl?!”

“Oh. No,” N’Gari said again.

Sean stopped dead. “Do A want ta ken how this works?”

“There are boys--those are black. There are girls--those are blue. There are ones like me, not boy, not girl, an’ we can do all the good shtuff--only we don’t gots as many poisons as girls, and ash many thornsh ash boysh.”

Sean pondered that, then saw a small blue thing trying to crawl under the door and remembered his original reason for getting N’Gari up here. “Ye’ve got ta get these things under control before they crash the plane!” he said, his words emphasized by a sudden swerve that knocked him against the wall.

“No, no. I gots no control over them! They jusht do want they want.”

Sean picked the N’Gari Eater up once more, holding it at eye level. “N’Gari. Iffin ye dinnae get rid o’ these creatures somehow, A’m goin’ ta open an’ airlatch an’ pour ‘em all out!”

N’Gari thought about that for a minute. “I’ll shee what I can do,” he said finally.

Sean nodded. “Good idea.”

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Scott looked around the room, relief coloring his very stance. It had taken him four hours to get this room clean. But finally--FINALLY--it was done! “You know, Bobby,” he said conversationally as the boy walked by, “sometimes I have the oddest feeling about things.” “Yeah? Like what?” Bobby asked, carefully biting his tongue against making mean comments. Scott really needed to learn not to leave himself open like that.

“Almost like . . . like someone, out there, somewhere, is just laughing at me and making things go wrong on purpose.”

Bobby snorted. “You’re right. That’s dumb.” He sped up and walked away, leaving Scott far behind.

“Yeah, it is--hey! I didn’t say it was dumb!” Scott shouted at the retreating figure. He sighed and turned, walking into the family room to start cleaning that. He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and walked back out, just in time to see something fly into the room he had just cleaned, and hear it shatter against the far wall. His face went white. Swiftly he looked back up the way the thing had come, seeing M and Everett disappear around the corner. “WHAT WAS THAT?!” he shouted, furious.

“A SCIENCE EXPERIMENT!” they shouted back in unison.

Scott swallowed hard and walked slowly to the room he had just cleaned, hoping against hope that it had been something small, easy to clean up. Instead he saw tracks going across the floor, coated in oil, and a huge pile of broken wood, ivory and leather. He sobbed quietly, walking up to inspect the wall. It would need to be spackled and painted before Sean and Emma got back. Scott straightened his spine and set to work. Yes, some days it seemed just as if someone were purposefully making his life hard.

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Emma’s eyes narrowed as she watched small bugs fly by. There was something odd about these things . . . and the fact that they were all going down into the hold, following orders by something over the intercom that sounded suspiciously like N’Gari, told her something. She just wasn’t sure what, yet. Quickly she reached out over the cowering form of Moira and snagged one out of the air. Opening her hand, she eyed the beast. Blue. And what did you know? It looked almost like N’Gari. She smiled evilly and put it in her purse. If Sean got one, then by golly so did she. Yes, this could most assuredly cause trouble.

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In a convenient plot twist somewhere nearby, a Zudagar--something no one had ever seen before since it was only just created--sat in quiet anticipation. Yum. It could sense its prey nearby--a whole new clutch of recently hatched N’Gari Eaters. Gleefully it switched into the other dimension, landing in a rather large airplane. And there were little beasts all over!! The Zudagar laughed gleefully in a very Zudagar-like way, and started lapping up the little idiot things.

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Sean’s head whipped around at the sound of screams coming from the back of the plane. He could hear the shuffling of feet as people poured into the aisles on either side trying frantically to get away from something.

“Ah nae!” Sean grumbled as he ran down the steps to the next class. He stopped dead in his tracks at what he saw. It most certainly wasn’t a N’Gari, more like a large lizard with horns and wings.

Sean stared at its six foot length and watched its long, black tongue dart in and out into the swarm of baby N’Garis.

Sean thought fast while the herd of people pushed around him, trying to get away. The phone for N’Gari was on the other side of the beast, resting on the seat back. Sean yelled to Emma up the flight of stairs, careful not to divert his attention from the black lizard that now hissed at the little things attacking its eyes.

Emma, above in first class, eyed Moira, who was holding her head between her legs and trying to erase all the chaos from her mind.

“You know,” Emma said, standing up and setting her purse down carefully so as to not hurt the contents, “the only reason they tell you to put your head between your legs is to kiss your sorry butt goodbye! Excuse me now.”

Moira’s grip on her neck tightened as a small, almost inaudible whimper escaped her lips.

Before Emma had reached Sean’s side he closed the curtain separating economy class and the back flight attendant area, and blocked the creature from view.

“Really Sean, setting the mood . . . well, don’t let me stop you, I’ll get the lights.” Emma added with a seductive smile.

Sean sighed and pulled her close to him, away from the lights.

“So eager are you . . . ” she said with a lazy wink.

“Nae lass, I need yuir help with something!”

“Oh, you need my . . . services more than you realize, Sean!” Emma bit her lip and smiled.

Sean rolled his eyes and pulled back the curtain to reveal to Emma The Problem.

“*Gasp* Sean, are you insane?! Where did you get that thing?!” Emma screeched, backing away in disgust.

“Tis nae mine lass, but we have t’be getting it off the plane somehow.” Sean said back, quietly and trying not to draw attention to them.

“Okay Sean, why don’t you go open the door and I’ll shoo it out,” Emma snapped sarcastically.

Sean and Emma both jumped at an overwhelming shriek emitted by the beast. It leapt off the seat back and started scurrying towards them, its long tail whipping back and knocking over a food cart.

“Sean . . . ” Emma whined, crouching behind him. “Don’t just stand here, kill it!”

The words were familiar to Sean. Whether it be the kids or Moira with bugs, it was always “kill it!”

“What do ye want me t’do lass, step on it?!” But before Sean could finish his thoughts, the black lizard pounced like a cat at his chest, its claws ready to impale him.

Sean reacted instinctively, with a sonic boom. He sent the beast tumbling helplessly back against the floor and crashing into the food tray. Sean’s wail turned to a ear-piercing pitch as he regained his wits and shattered three windows on the left. Instantly the entire swarm of N’Garis were sucked out of the plane while the lizard clenched the ground with its razor sharp talons.

Sean moved Emma’s hair from his face as her locks whipped in his eyes and he felt himself being pulled towards the window.

Emma screamed from behind him and swore aloud. “Sean you idiot!!!”

Sean pulled them both aside as loose briefcases and bags flew down from the deck above, pelting the two.

They both felt the plane drop suddenly and make a steep decent to regain pressure. Emma was thrown against the opposite wall as the plane jerked suddenly to one side. She pulled her hair behind her ear and looked at the creature that was now clawing its way along the floor to Emma, its wings flapping fiercely against seats and the wall.

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Scott wiped the excess spackle onto his jeans and stood back to admire his work. “Good, now with a little paint Sean won’t even notice.”

Scott left to get the paint and met Jubilee and Everett in the hallway hiding something behind their backs. “What are you two up to?!” Scott growled.

“Nothing, just a science experiment!” Jubilee answered.

“Well, I am glad to see your overwhelming infatuation with science, but really, these experiments seem pointless and . . . ”

*Gasp* “That’s just what they told Einstein, are you calling me a failure?” Jubilee broke down into fake sobs and whimpers, lowering her head to make Scott feel bad. It worked.

“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant, honey!”

Honey? Ewwwww! Jubilee thought to herself.

Scott continued down the hallway after patting Jubilee on the head the way he would a dog.

Jubilee broke into laughter as she and Everett pulled out their paintball guns and darted into the room.

“He did say he wanted to paint it!!! Consider it a favor!”

With that Jubilee and Everett fired splats of reds, greens, blues and yellows at the wall, not only covering it, but splattering over the carpet and wood shelves around.

If that didn’t put Cyclops over the edge, nothing would.

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Emma screamed as the lizard shrieked and scurried closer the best it could. She shut her eyes and cried aloud. “This isn’t happening!!! I have a first class ticket!!!

Moira, meanwhile, was petrified with fear as papers flew by her and down to the sucking source below. She screamed at the top of her lungs when she looked out the window and saw papers flying out the side through a hole she couldn’t see.

The wind died down as the plane dropped rapidly, the suction stopped. The lizard, however, not contending with holding itself in the craft anymore, charged towards Emma in a raging fury, snapping its jaws.

“Squawk!!!” came a very N’Gari like voice from behind.

The lizard turned on a dime to face its new prey, N’Gari, who treaded air, his wings flapping and rustling papers on the floor.

Emma was knocked down by the tail of the beast and fell against Sean.

“N’Gari,” Sean called, “get this thing otta here as best ye can!”

“Wait!” Emma said, her eyes shut tight and fingers at her forehead.

Sean watched the lizard stand on its hind legs and moan aloud, its own claws scratching at its head. It turned and snorted before falling to the ground, exhausted and unconscience.

Emma too fell to her knees and clenched her head with both hands before breathing in deeply and slowly rising again.

Sean stood, confused at the whole show and mouth wide open. “Did ye do what I think ye did, woman?”

“If you think I shot the little godzilla-want-to-be’s nerves then you’re right! Ouch . . . headache!!!”

“Why so drained, lass?” Sean said, picking Emma up in his arms.

“I don’t know Sean,” she answered tiredly, massaging her temples. “It was something I’ve never tried before; I can’t do that to animals without frying their brains, but this thing had human thought capacity. I want it for research,” she said, a gleam in her eye.

Sean paused as N’Gari flew and perched on his shoulder. “Ye ken, the strangest things turn ye on, woman!”

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Scott dropped the can of white paint and let it soak the carpet at his feet as he stared into the room before him. He had left it for less than two minutes and it was beyond repair. He watched the still wet globs of paint form rivers and flow from the wall to the floor.

Scott breathed in deeply, his stomach turning with a molten fury. “SOMEONE,” he screamed, turning to look out the door, “WILL DIE TONIGHT! THEY WILL BE DRAWN AND QUARTERED! DO YOU ALL KNOW WHAT THAT IS?!” he shouted still, walking down the hallway and peering into rooms. “IT’S WHERE EACH LIMB IS TIED TO A SEPARATE HORSE AND THE HORSES ARE ALL MADE TO RUN IN DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS, RIPPING THE PERSON APART. THAT IS WHAT I’M GOING TO DO TO YOU!”

“Scott!” Jean cried, chasing him down the hallway. “It’s okay, I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. I saw the room--it’s just a little paint!”

“SOMEONE DIES TODAY!” Cyclops bellowed.

“I’m standing right here, Scott, you don’t have to yell,” Jean muttered, rubbing her ears.

“YOU’RE WITH THEM, AREN’T YOU, JEAN?” Scott continued to shout, advancing on his wife with a slightly gone feel to his mind.

“No, Scott, don’t be silly,” Jean laughed uneasily, backing away.

“YOU ARE!”

“Scotty, fearless, Jeanie isn’t with anyone,” Bobby said, coming out of the rec room to try and calm the team leader down.

“YOU’RE WITH THEM TOO!” Reaching a hand up to his visor, he blasted as hard as he could at Bobby--who shattered into many pieces. Luckily for Bobby, he’d started practicing melting together again when Artie and Leech had shot him with a hotwater gun while he was in ice form.

“NOW LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE!” Scott shouted, looking around at the walls he’d demolished with his optic blast. “YOU’VE RUINED THE WHOLE HOUSE! SEAN AND EMMA WILL BE BACK IN LESS THAN AN HOUR AND YOU’VE RUINED EVERYTHING! THE PROFESSOR WILL BE SOOOO DISAPPOINTED!!!” Cyclops wailed.

On the stairs, Betsy laughed. “I think the prof will be too hung over to be disappointed.”

“DON’T TALK ABOUT BALDY--I MEAN, THE PROFESSOR . . . I CALLED HIM BALDY!!!!” Scott wailed, mortally wounded.

“STOP YELLING ALREADY!” Psylocke shouted, scowling.

“HEY! ONLY I CAN USE CAPITAL LETTERS!” Scott yelled back, apparently over his mortal wounding.

“All right, Scott, only you can use capital letters,” Beast crooned, easing down the hallway to come closer to Cyclops.

“WHAT DO YOU HAVE BEHIND YOUR BACK?!” Scott screamed, eyeing Hank suspiciously.

“A present for you!” Hank said happily, coming ever closer. “See?” With one quick movement his plunged the sedative into Scott’s arm, and the ruby visored man went limp.

“All right then,” Jean said, looking around at the rubble as Beast carried Scott away, “who wants to clean up paint, who wants to round up kids and lock them in the cellar--”

A round of “ME!”s drowned out Jean for a moment.

“--Who wants to rebuild the hallway, who wants to clean up the kitchen, who wants to run for pizza, who wants to guard Scott, who wants to clean up the biosphere?”

“I’ll round up the kids!” “No, me! I have a GUN!”

“Ah wanna do it!”

“Non, chere, I do it f’r you!”

“ME! ME! MEMEMEMEME!!!!”

“All right, all right,” Jean said, holding up her hands for silence. “Since we can’t agree, we’ll all do it!”

The X-Men screeched in happiness and took off in separate directions.

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Sean sat in his seat, Moira clinging to one arm and N’Gari on the other shoulder. In the last seat in the row Emma sat, holding her new beast--”Zudagar” she insisted--in her lap. Personally, Sean thought that the cold blooded lizard thing looked uncannily like Zudagar, but he didn’t say that. She most likely would fry his brain.

All the N’Garis had been swept out of the plane, and now they were most likely, N’Gari said, headed back to their own dimension. Either that or New York. After all, he had informed Sean, N’Gari Eaters ate N’Garis, and N’Garis could easily be found in smog.

“Em,” Sean said, looking at the six foot long dragon/lizard, “Ye’re nae really goin’ tae keep that thing, are ye?” Emma just smiled and adjusted her slightly-eaten leather shirt. “Seanm’boy,” N’Gari said, having decided that Sean’s name was “Sean m’boy,” “N’Gari--cute li’l N’Gari--don’ want Zudagar ta shtay. Zudagars eat N’Gari Eaters!”

Sean looked down at the small beast now curled in his lap, looking at him sadly. “A’m sure Emma will train it nae ta eat ye,” he said, patting N’Gari calmingly.

Zudagar just looked over at N’Gari and licked his scaly lips.

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“Here kiddie kiddie kiddie kiddie . . .” Gambit called, smiling evilly.

“Come ta yoh auntie Roguie!” Rogue said, walking along beside the Cajun.

“Non, come t’ your unca Remy!”

Leech watched suspiciously from the shadows before darting out to bite Gambit’s ankle and then run off.

Gambit shouted in pain, gripping his ankle and hopping around on one foot. “De li’l bas’ard got me!” he yelled, firing glowing cards at the running green figure.

“Ah got ‘im! Ah got ‘im!” Rogue shouted, flying after Leech and tearing through anything that got in her way.

In the next room Hank waited with a large net, eager to throw it over the bulleting green form.

“You leave him alone!” Paige shouted, shucking her skin and wrapping it around Beast’s eyes as Leech came tearing through. Beast shouted and stumbled, just as Rogue came flying through the wall. The two collided, scattering across the floor and sending pieces of wall, door, and various other items flying.

“Come on, Leech,” Paige said, grabbing his hand and running, “We gotta hurry!”

Beast and Rogue both leapt back to their feet, racing through the door after the two children.

“GOTCHA!” Jubilee and Monet cried, waiting on the other side of the door with bazookas. Warren’s account had run out, but Betsy was rich too. They shot at Rogue, who went once more flying into Beast, knocking him through the door and into a holding cell. Quickly Paige shut and locked the door, then activated the anti-mutant device which negated any powers.

“Ya no good, lousy, flea bitten scoundrels!” Rogue cried, enraged.

Jono “smiled” and took their picture.

Not ten minutes later Rogue and Beast had been joined by Gambit, Iceman, Cannonball, Jean, Warren, Betsy and Storm.

“Let it be known for the rest of the X-Men,” came the announcement over the intercom, “that we teenagers cannot be defeated. Surrender now and we won’t tell Banshee and Frosty how miserably you failed in baby-sitting us!”

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half an hour later . . .

Scott and Bishop were the first to have their bags ready at the door as the others slowly walked around the house making sure everything was as well as could be expected. Rogue walked up and put her hands on Bishop’s shoulder as he stared out the door like a puppy waiting to be let out.

“Mah lord Bishop, ya haven’t removed that gun belt from yoh waist since ya’ve been here! What, are ya afraid of a bunch a kids or somethin’?” She carefully didn’t mention that they’d ended up surrendering--that incident was best left forgotten.

Bishop slowly glanced at the gun in its holster at his side. “It’s a wonder that I haven’t had to use it yet.”

Rogue smiled and made her way upstairs to get the remaining bags.

The children sat happily in front of the television, watching cartoons while the X-men prepared to leave, as per the conditions surrounding the surrender. The house had been cleaned up--even the bedrooms--by the X-Men, dinner had been made that night, and each kid had one hundred dollars to spend for whatever they wanted.

Jubilee smiled, leaning back in her bean bag chair and sipping her soda. “See? I told you we could break them,” she said to Angelo. He just grinned and puffed on Logan’s cigar.

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Sean looked out the window of the limousine, seeing in the distance the outline of the school against the trees. It was good to be back to the horrors he knew.

“That’sh where we’re gonna live?” N’Gari said in awe as the car pulled to a stop in front of the main building, where Sean could see the X-Men had their bags all ready to go. Within milliseconds they were all outside, both the X-Men and Generation X.

“Angelo,” Sean said, stepping out of the car and frowning, “put out that cigar!”

The X-Men cringed as they expected something horrible to happen. Instead Angelo sighed and put out the cigar. Jaws dropped as Sean just smiled. “Thank ye, lad. Jubilee, could ye go start up th’ Blackbird f’r the X-Men, they look ready ta leave.”

“NO!” came the cries as the teenager ran off.

“Why not? She’s a good lass, she’ll be safe.”

Bishop fainted. Rogue caught him quickly, smiling an apology. “Uh, long day.”

Ten minutes later the X-Men were in their plane, speeding away to meet something far more handle-able then teenagers; Apocalypse.

Sean watched them go, all of Generation X at his back.

“Were you good?” Emma purred to the teens behind her.

“NO!” they answered gleefully.

“Good. Well, here’s your payment for being good for us in front of them,” she said, turning around and handing them each three fifty dollar bills. “Don’t spend it on anything I wouldn’t buy.”

Moira looked on in shock. “Ye pay them ta behave?!”

Sean smiled, wrapping his free arm around her--the other one was holding N’Gari. “Aye, we do. It work well, wouldn’t ye say?”

Moira swallowed. “Aye. A suppose it does at that.”

“Sean,” Paige asked as they walked into the house, “what’s that on your shoulder?”

“His name is N’Gari. ‘Tis a long and painful story. So what happened here?” he asked, changing the subject.

The teens all grinned. “Oh, nothing much!”

The End!

* sung to the tune: “Singing’ in the Rain” which goes “I’m siiiiiingin’ in the rain! Just siiiingin’ in the rain! What a glorious feelin’ I’m happy again!”

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DISCLAIMER: Zudagar is copyrighted to Daniel J. Leonard IV 1998 and not to be used without his permission--either Nony or I can put you in touch. N’Gari Eaters are copyright to Jenna B. McDonald and not to be used without my permission. Everyone else is copyright to Marvel comics, and Nony and I are making no money off this, so please don’t sue.

NOTES: Wow. Thirty chapters. It’s finally over! I can’t believe it! You know, Nony and I have worked on this fic for over a year now! This is the very first one that ever got put online, the first one Nony wrote, the second one I wrote and the first one everyone liked! I’m almost sad to be leaving it. :( This chapter would have been out sooner, but first *I* went on vacation, then *Nony* went on vacation . . . well, you get the idea. :)

Anyhow, to celebrate thirty chapters and the end of One Month Of Terror, this chapter is *exactly* thirty pages long! Not counting these notes and the disclaimer, of course. ;)

I’d like to thank everyone who wrote to make comments--good and bad--and to tell the people who sent ideas for more chapters not to worry, they’ll be used. ;) “What?!?!” I hear you all say. “JB, the month is over! What are you talking about?!?!” I’d like to thank my friend Robby, who agreed with people that this story shouldn’t end, and suggested the series title “One Month and Then Some.” Yup. That’s right. Nony and I were so sad with the thought of leaving this that we decided to continue it. :D “One Month and Then Some” is a series we agreed to work on, er, when we have time. With school starting, there probably won’t be much time, but we’ll at least think about it!! Of course, as you all know, we’re more likely to write if we get lots of encouragement . . . Nony’s (pronounced “know-knee,” by the way, not “non-knee”) e-mail is djl4@pacbell.net and mine is McDonald@ez2.net so now you have no excuse!!

Well, I’d like to thank you all for hanging on for the ride, and I hope I hear from you! I’d like to thank someone, by the way, for begging me to try and smash Scott with a piano--only I don’t remember your name!! I want to say Image, but I don’t know if that’s right . . . well, thanks. :)

For those who want them, I have pics of N’Gari and I know Nony has pics of Zudagar, if someone can convince him to scan it in and let everyone see . . . Just e-mail us.

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