Disclaimer / Author's Note: Let's pretend everyone in the mansion (heck, everyone in the whole X-Men movieverse) had a diary. And let's pretend that they were all written like Bridget Jones's diary. And *then* let's pretend that I didn't get the idea from Cassandra, who writes the Lord of the Rings diaries. (Google 'em. Find 'em. Come back when you're done laughin'.)
And while we're at it, let's pretend that these characters are not owned by Marvel or 20th Century Fox or whoever it is that has 'em this week, and let's pretend they're owned by ME. In that case, I'll be auctioning off everyone except Wolverine and Iceman, whom I'll be putting into cold storage until he's legal. Don't worry, I'll give him a couple of magazines and a Playstation. He'll be fine.

Son of Author's Note: The timeline is ... eh. Close enough. Spoilers for the first and second movie, so you're forewarned.

The Xavier Mansion Diaries: The Maid
by Troll Princess


Alcohol units: 1. Cigarettes: 13. Considering the reasons for all, may not be trying hard enough.

Am being driven insane by hyperactive Chinese girl and blond boy-band reject. Professor and redheaded trollop off to Washington, so have left bloke with funny sunglasses in charge. Obviously, man should not be left in charge of an ant farm, as children have gone absolutely mad. Cleaned bathroom after boy-band reject had left only to find shower stall covered in ice. Am not sure how he did it, but am positive it involves some sort of teenage sexual thing I'd rather not know about.

Chinese girl, on the other hand, has filled the linen closet with tapioca pudding. Again, no idea how this was done, but maybe I should warn her that the vacuum cleaner has a reverse mechanism and I know where her underwear drawer is.


Bloke with sunglasses and white-haired tart off to S&M convention, if outfits any indication. Professor and redhead back from Washington. Children back to pretending they're sane.

Professor asking why his bed smells like pudding. Decided to pretend I don't speak English.


Leather-clad pair returned from Canada with skittish bint and unconscious and unshaven but still yummy dish. Adorable bloke taken down to med-lab.

Can pretty much assure you, diary, that med-lab now cleanest room in the mansion. Go, me!


Help! Boys have decided that skittish bint most attractive creature on God's green earth and have resolved to sweep her off her feet. Boy-band reject leaving melting ice sculptures all over my clean floors. Russian brickhouse leaving holes in mansion ceilings after juggling toasters to impress her. Rebellious kid with lighter burning stupid romantic sentiments onto priceless family heirlooms.

May abduct skittish bint and ship her off to Guam to save myself hours of work. Have not decided yet, as am getting the impression the female students may do this for me.

In other news, sexy chap in med-lab now shirtless. Day cannot get any worse with *that* lying around the mansion.


Cigarettes: 20. Every single one needed after nummy med-lab hottie awoke and ran through mansion shirtless. May not be able to move legs anytime soon. Left a trail of possibly biohazardous waste in lower level, but as was worn by sexy psycho, won't complain when I have to clean them up.

*Probably*. Probably won't complain.


Yummy Canadian lying unconscious and shirtless, this time in his bedroom. Have changed mind -- *definitely* won't be complaining, as lose all control of my tongue whenever I catch sight of the man.

Competition for the bint's affections now going full-throttle. So far, have found all of the toilets in the men's bathroom frozen solid, fourteen Playboys somehow stuck in the wall of the boys's room, and the foosball table in the TV room flipped upside down as if it had always been that way. Was tempted to have someone right the bloody thing, but heard a strange growling noise from underneath it and have since resorted to lifting up a corner, tossing in a fresh steak, and slamming the thing to the ground while I still have all of my toes.

Also, must learn to perfect proper poker face, as have filled the closets in the boys's rooms with barbecue sauce and mayonnaise and may not be able to keep from giggling hysterically for much longer.


V.v. good news, as skittish bint has run away and taken all of her never-ending laundry with her. Hooray!

However, also v.v. bad news, as second-floor now ankle deep in noxious BBQ-sauce-and-mayo mess. Considering all the strange goings-on in this place, have told the Professor that condiments made wrong turn at Albuquerque through interdimensional portal. Amazingly, he seemed to buy it. Right stupid bloke, isn't he?

As was emptying garbage cans in lower levels, overheard sexy bloke and uptight moron with the sunglasses arguing heatedly in the hallway over runaway girl. Considering their volume, am allowed three options -- either both fighting over skittish bint, both fighting over redheaded trollop, or both secretly want to ditch trollop and bint and shack up for lover's trysts in med-lab.

Please let option C be wrong, please let option C be wrong ...


Ugh. Med-lab a disaster area. According to white-haired tart, melted senator all over everything. Bloke's watery remains currently clogging up the wet vac. Suddenly thankful I don't vote.

Also, wish I didn't have to do so much laundry. White-haired tart and reheaded trollop taken to changing clothes as if they're in a bloody fashion show.


Professor unconscious in the med-lab. Teachers gone. Sexy Canadian gone. Students smiling at me. Chinese girl and boy-band reject just walked by carrying two bottles of ketchup, a giant tube of superglue, and a twenty-five pound bag of cat litter.

Becoming mildly alarmed now an incredible understatement.


Good Lord, I can't get up from my chair.


Have no idea where that strange smell is coming from, but considering the crazed gleam in the eyes of the students, cannot possibly come to any good.


White-haired tart constantly following me around and apologizing for leaving me alone with the students last night. Others came home yesterday to find me glued to my chair, which was glued to the ceiling, with my hair dyed blue and my entire body doused in ketchup. Was going to complain, but large bonus check roughly the size of the gross national product of France more than enough compensation.

However, have decided to play up my sorrow, as is great fun to watch the tart yammer on about how I'll grow that skin back before I know it and how she's sure that the blue hair dye will come out with enough shampoo scrubbings.

Skittish bint apparently ran off to get bad streak job on her bangs and personality transplant. Has been killing time by flicking cigar ashes at my head and calling me "bub". Also, keeps grabbing the redhead's ass. Ha! Feel immensely vindicated, as knew someone in this place had to be gay.

Sexy unshaven dish once again shirtless and on his back in the med-lab. Spends so much of his time in that condition, it's a real pity more of it isn't spent conscious.


Yummy Canadian off on grand adventure to find past. Let redheaded trollop and skittish bint behind, but stole boring bloke's motorcycle. Have decided to ignore homoerotic subtext to their relationship until something less sub and more text pops up.

Hmm. Have reread last sentence and suppose that "pops up" is a bad phrase to use during this particular discussion. Let's see ... reveals itself, emerges, comes up ...

Perhaps buying a thesaurus is in order. Well, that, or less porn.


White-haired tart apparently lost accent in mansion. Reward poster hanging up by cafeteria.


Tart has now replaced spotty African accent with whiny Minnewegean one. May destroy her copy of "Fargo" before things go too far.


Hooray! Tasty Canadian back from sightseeing trip. Tasty Canadian's arse also back. Not sure which I missed more.

Teachers obviously learned lesson after the superglue debacle. Have left sexy psycho in charge for night, but personally expect he wil buy the students beer, rent them porn, and teach them all how to kill a man with a cocktail weenie. Am staying in, as death by cocktail weenie not something I really want to experience.

New plan: Hide in room until responsible adult or trained emergency personnel arrive to break things up. Good plan!


Am resigning, effective immediately. Am not sure how they can possibly expect me to do my job when mansion is swarming with soldiers and students insist on killing them violently or throwing them through walls.

On the other hand, children missing, teachers gone, and second-in-command of soldiers apparently poured into his uniform. Tried to find downside to situation, but as worst things so far are muddy boot tracks through the hallways and blood all over the foyer, cannot even begin to complain.


Second-in-command wants me to stay with him *where?!*

Am reconsidering my resignation, as while mansion has its disadvantages, also has heating system, American money, and windows. Suspect that living in dam vast difference.

Hmm. Wonder if I should get the Professor before I go.

Nope, seems happy enough. Talking to imaginary little girl, wearing a funny helmet. Must be an improvement over mansion, really. Can't possibly be opposed to me raiding his pockets, though. No, of course not.

Now, where was that helicopter ...