This chapter and the next chapter are identical-ish to The Misfortunes Of Logan, which is actually a spin-off of this story, which I've been planning to write for ages but never got around to. You can skip straight to chapter two if you've read TMOL, or you can stick around and enjoy the food fight!
The mansion was nice and quiet after a Danger Room session. That was, until the shouts of anger from a certain German and a certain Jew ripped through the air.
"You couldn't walk three steps in my shoes!" Kitty shouted. "All you care about is your stupid egotistical guy world, and can't be bothered to help me in the DR!"
"Oh yeah? You try being blue and fuzzy and foreign, and dealing with three drones and Rogue!" Kurt countered.
"You don't have to deal with being objectified by a jackass boyfriend!" Kitty screamed, dropping the DR.
"Me? Me? Jackass boyfriend? No no no, Keety, zat's Lance, zat asshole. I don't objectify you." Kurt said loudly.
"Uh-huh! I won't even start! But face it—if you tried a day as a girl, you'd be begging for mercy on hands and knees by the end."
"So you're saying you vant to be a guy?"
"I never said that!"
"You implied it."
"Stop picking out technicalities, Wagner! You're too insensitive to be a girl!"
"Break it UP!" Scott bellowed, shoving the two apart as they continued to screech insults at each other. "You two sound like girls in a bitch-fight."
"Way to be sexist!" Jean said snidely from behind Scott, who rounded on the redhead.
"You want to get into the sexist argument?" He said lowly.
"Hell yes, you sexist pig, I can't begin to count the number of times you've discriminated against girls." Jean said, eyes narrowed. Behind Scott's turned back, Kitty and Kurt resumed their loud fight with more venom.
"Bee-atch!" Kurt hollered, jibing at an American (Texan) accent.
"Mahn-beetch!" Kitty screeched with a cruel imitation of Kurt's accent.
"Vot ze hell?.!" Kurt looked dumbfounded. Kitty stuck her tongue out at Kurt.
"I said, man-bitch! That's right, you MAN-BITCH! I CALLED YOU A MAN-BITCH!" Kitty screeched at the top of her lungs.
Kurt flailed his arms around angrily, stomping his foot like a petulant child. He growled and screeched and jumped around and cussed in a thoroughly infantile display. Kitty's face went blank with shock, then she burst out laughing, much to the enraged Elf's rage, fueling his bonfire so he teleported around, continuing his infantile display around Scott and Jean, dueling with words, until Rogue broke in.
"Yer actin' lahke a royal mayn-beeotch!" She yelled at her brother. His cusses became incoherent (and German, they suspected) and he started crying in anger and frustration.
"Stop beating up on my best friend!" Evan yelled, pushing in between Rogue and Kurt angrily, receiving a leaf of lettuce to the side of the head. "Okay," he said calmly, "WHAT THE HELL?.!"
"If it helps, I vos aiming for zat souzern redneck." Kurt growled, getting over his infantile-ness.
"No, it does not help." Evan ground out between clenched teeth.
"Food fight!" somebody screamed, and the salad Ororo had been preparing before the teens had driven her out of the kitchen went to hell in a handbasket.
Kitty received a face of raw carrot slices, which she picked up and flung in the general direction of Scott. Kurt had snatched two heads of lettuce, cackling demonically, and retreated under the table, and was currently grinding it into a paste and smearing it like war paint under his eyes. Jean flung a cutting board full of onions at Scott, who ducked, and they hit Rogue in the face, making her burst into tears.
Evan opened a jar of peanut butter and was chucking handfuls of it around. A splat hit Kitty in the back and she screamed and threw a carving knife in his direction, which he ducked desperately, throwing the whole jar at her, hitting her in the chest and making her keel over in pain. Evan punched the air right as a loaf of bread hit him in the jewels, courtesy of a cackling Kurt, leaping around on the ceiling painted with lettuce paste, looking demented and leaving footprints all over the white surface.
"No dirty shots!" Evan squeaked.
Kurt crowed with laughter and taunted him. "Hee hee hee! Or as you say in America, neener neener neener!"
"Nobody says that!" Evan said, voice painfully high. Kitty, upon realizing her ultimate target was on the ceiling, began throwing things with all her might at the roof, leaving dents and splotches, landing a partially spoiled apricot on Kurt's butt. He shouted in surprise and fell off the roof.
"Neener neener neener!" Kitty screeched at the elf, narrowly missing a facefull of lettuce paste that splatted on Rogue's thigh. Diving into the fridge, Rogue rapid-fired diced pickles at anything in her line of sight, and upon running out of pickles, threw the juice.
"Children, stop!" Ororo shouted desperately, materializing in the doorway at the commotion, then got a jar of pickle juice all down her front. "Aaargh!" She shrieked, disappearing from the doorway.
Jean was using a baguette like a spear, jabbing Scott in a pressure point then ramming a handful of chickpeas up under his shades. He screamed and clawed at his eyes, grabbing a fistful of random food mush from the floor and flinging it up at Jean, hitting her in the stomach and abdomen. Crap reigned supreme, flying through the air and coating every available surface. The six teens were walking, screeching, raging food monsters, covered in mushes and pastes and clumps of any mildly edible thing within two seconds' reach.
Suddenly, a slimy, two-foot-long, scaly (genetically modified gargantu-sized) herring made its monstrous debut from the bowels of the fridge, clutched by the tail in Kitty's vengeful fist, destination: Kurt. As soon as the blue boy appeared out from under the table (looking for all hell like a monkey in a tribal war) to fire off another round of lettuce mush and collect more ammo, Kitty swung.
WHAP WHAP WHAPWHAPWHAP!
Kurt screamed at the fishy attack as the herring smashed across his face and any reachable part of his body, mostly his face.
"Ruaargh!" he bellowed, ripping leaves off and pelting them at Kitty, who continued to beat him with the dead fish. More ammo in the form of sliced bell peppers landed on Kurt, who eagerly launched them at Kitty's face. Rogue leaped at Evan, sitting on his shoulders as he staggered around and pitched handfuls of cheese at her, hands holding what looked like lentil soup from six months ago, flecked with purple mold. She smeared the rotten soup all over his face and bailed into a pile of soft oozing fruits, howling with her achievement as Evan screamed like a little girl in horror and disgust.
Three-day-old pizza plastered Jean as she hobbled by, Scott clinging to her ankles and shoving kiwi mash down her shoes. Evan lobbed milk into the mass of food, splattering everybody and turning the kitchen into a swamp of food that was truly puke-worthy. Kitty raised the now-blue-furry-herring with trembling arms as Kurt cowered, defiantly flicking chips at Kitty's shins, and brought it down on Kurt's head.
"WHAT THE HELL?.!" Logan bellowed at the top of his lungs, having no effect on the teens, who continued to hurl food at each other. Suddenly, the herring spiraled through the air, flipping towards Logan's face. Everyone froze as it landed with a smack on his face and stuck.
You could have heard a pin drop as it inched down his face so his furious eyes appeared around the tail. "Why the hell is this herring hairy?" he growled.
"Filled viz omega-zree and good for your heart." A badly-disguised German voice with no visible body (retreated under the table) said softly. Logan growled.
"Who threw this?" he asked rhetorically. A quiet bamf answered his question. "Rec. Room. Now." He ground out, pointing out the door and watching the food-covered teens troop past with hung heads.
Logan ripped the freakishly large, hairy herring off his face irately and rounded on Ororo, shaking the fish like incriminating evidence in a life-or-death religious case. "Why?"
Ororo's eyes widened and shoulders shrugged in the "I don't know" gesture. Logan stormed upstairs like an avenging, fish-smelling . . . wolverine, I guess, because he really couldn't be described as an avenging fish-smelling angel, now could he? Oh whatever . . .
He walked in to the teens sitting on the couch, Kurt crouched on the back. "Why are you on the couch? You're filthy! Floor! Now!" He barked. They slid onto their butts on the floor. Kurt jumped down and hissed at Kitty before plunking down next to Scott.
"Never, in all my years have I seen such atrocious behavior from you. And you think you're mature." He snorted. "So here's the question: why? Rogue, why?"
"Why?" Rogue repeated.
"Yes, why." Logan ground out.
"Kurt called meh a redneck, then somebahdy said "food faght," so I started throwin' stuff." She said.
Logan narrowed his eyes. "Kitty, why?"
"Kurt was being a man-bitch," she started, then was cut off by a high-pitched ear-splitting wail from the lettuce-paste monkey, threatening to devolve to infantile-ness again. "And he was fighting with me, and then he threw the lettuce at Rogue and I yelled "food fight" and . . . yeah."
"So you started the fight . . . Jean, why?" Logan growled.
"Kurt and Kitty were fighting and Kitty called him a man-bitch, which really set him off, then Scott broke it up but he was being really sexist so I called him on it and we started fighting and Kurt threw the lettuce and Kitty yelled "food fight" and I started throwing onions." Jean said quickly. Logan sighed and rubbed his temples. The only upside was that they were scared silly, into telling the truth.
"I broke up Kurt and Kitty's fight and all of a sudden Jean said "way to be sexist" so I talked to her—"
"Talked? You were shouting!" Jean said angrily. Logan stuck out his claws and all the teens fell silent again.
" . . . So I talked to her and then the food fight started." Scott finished after Logan nodded to him.
"I broke up Kurt and Rogue fighting and he threw lettuce and it hit me and then the food fight broke out." Evan said.
Logan steeled himself before turning to the tribal-painted maniacal blue monkey at the end of the row, licking banana off his tail. "Kurt, why?"
"Keety called me . . ." he trailed off into German, then resurfaced in English, " . . . so I zrew ze lettuce at Rogue for being a redneck and zen ze food fight st—mmm," he got distracted as he found a bit of chocolate on his knee and licked that off. Logan smacked his palm to his forehead.
"Why, God, why?" he questioned quietly, looking up at the ceiling. "Okay, all of you go get cleaned up. I'll think up a decent punishment."
The teens trooped off, heads hanging again, and minutes later, Logan heard all the showers running. Hopefully the girls weren't stupid enough to try to save their clothes. It was the garbage for them. Turning to Ororo again, he sighed heavily and waved the herring through the air.
"Honestly, I have no idea what drives these kids, especially Kurt. He acts like a—a—a . . . wild animal sometimes." Logan said.
"Then you should have a pretty good idea of what he feels like." Ororo said levelly. Logan sighed at her logic. "I need to get this pickle juice off me." She disappeared upstairs. Logan threw the herring in the trash can in the garage and went and scrubbed his face of Kurt's fur and herring juice, his brain storming around punishments for the kids. Waxing the X-Jet? Too lax. Community service? Too bland. Starving them for a few good days? Somebody would call child services. Having them face an army of spiders? Too bizarre.
Suddenly, he got a great idea. Have Chuck show them what it's like. A day in the shoes of their partner, just so this whole sexist/man-bitch problem would be solved forever. Well, not forever forever, but for the entire foreseeable future.
Hooray! Food fights!