|
Disclaimer: Marvel, sadly, owns the rights to these fine upstanding characters. I do not. This is merely in fun, no money is being made. The lyrics also belong to some other company. Dunno which. Notes: This one is Andrea13 and Timesprite's fault. Timey claims it isn't, but she was there, giving these horrible faces while we hashed out the rather thin plot. Dedicated: To Andrea13 and Timesprite. Tee. Hee.
Tequila, Plots, and Videotape It had been one of those missions. All angst, no play. And it was time to party. Not that Cable seemed like the type who could party, but the rest of the Six Pack weren't fazed by this lack. And, once he had three tequila shots in him, the big man seemed much more relaxed. So relaxed, he didn't even object to singing karaoke. If he'd been sober, he might have. As the strains of the song echoed through the room, Domino blinked and started laughing. Hammer just looked pleased with himself. GW snorted and downed another shot. And Grizzly? Well, Grizz just did what he did best. And videotaped it. Five minutes later, Hammer was still snickering. Dom was downing another shot when she glanced at him, curious. She'd been coming out of the ladies room when Nate had begun his singing career. "I just signed him up. When the bouncer came to get him, he was docile as a lamb." "Fun. Didn't know he was such a cheap drunk, though." "Your guess is as good as mine." -=-=- *fastforward button* Movie Night at the X-Mansion was a rare occurance--especially now X-Force hung about. Almost every day was taken up with fights, battles, and angst to a high degree. So, on the few nights that people still felt able to do more than collapse, still covered in blood and dust, into bed, they had Movie Night. Several Monty Python marathons had taken over the last few. And tonight, they were planning to watch old Saturday Night Lives. Tabby and Sam had gone to the nearby Lackluster Video for the tapes. The current complement of the Mansion had all turned out to be entertained. Jean and Scott were cuddled up on one recliner. Logan had claimed a spot on the floor as far away from them as could be. Next to him, Tabby and Sam sprawled with Bobby (the Iceman) making icicles under the couch. On the couch were perched Storm, Roberto (if perched can be applied to someone who sort of 'hovers' in the air above an object), and Rogue. Cable and Domino were seated in their own chairs. Henry was sprawled on the love seat, mostly uninterested in the proceedings. Next to him hovered the Professor. "You need to press play, Tabitha." "I got it Sam, don't rush me." "What are we watching again?" "Saturday Night live best ofs?" "Dunno." "Hey, Tabby, press play already!" "I am, I am." The screen began as black, then faded up to a small stage, upon that stage leaned a man. He had a microphone in his hand, and he was concentrating very hard on the screen next to him. There were words flashing across it, words he was singing--badly, but singing.
"It's astounding It was about at this point, that the image resolved into Cable. He was singing his all, really. Lustily producing every vowel of the song--even if he wasn't getting all the words right. "Not for very much longer
I've got to keep control
And the void would be calling
Let's do the Time Warp again It's just a jump to the left" Cable jumped to the left, nearly falling off the stage.
"And then a step to the right Nathan Dayspring Askani'Son Summers, lunged across the room and succeeded in removing the remote control from Tabitha's hands. He clicked the stop button. "Where did this come from?" Sam looked up at him, apprehensive. "Um, sir, it was Domino, sir, she gave it to me earlier." Around them the various members of X-Force and the X-Men were in either shock, or convulsive giggles. Domino was nowhere to be found. Nate weighed his options. He tossed the remote at Tabitha. "Burn the tape." As he left the room, Tabitha turned to Sam, "Five bucks she gets away from him." Sam looked scandalised, "I'd never bet on something like that." "Fine. Ten." "You're on." "So..." "Hit play." "Right." -=-=-=- *rewind* "Boss." "Don't bother me, I've almost conquered level nine." "Boss." Stryfe slewed around in his chair and glared at the minion. "If Link dies, you die." The minion shut up until Stryfe could finish the level and save the game. "Now. What was it you wanted to report?" "It's Cable, sir. There are reports of a recent sighting of him in a gay bar. Doing, uh...." The minion looked at his notes. "Karaoke. Sir." "Ah." Stryfe leaned back in his recliner, ignoring the sound of ripping fabric as his armour cut deeply into the lining. He steepled his fingers and tapped his lips. "Well... I think my... brother is going to have to do an encore, soon. It could come in... handy." "Yes, sir." The minion saluted. "Uh. What should I do now, sir?" "Buy fishnets, a bustier and thigh-high boots. In my size." The minion blanched. "Uh..." "Now." "Yessir." Stryfe restarted his game, muttering about incompetents. -- A tape had been placed in a time-locked vault. This vault was one day opened, and the instructions on the tape were carried out to their fullest. -=-=-=- *fastforward* It was the world-premiere of the new Michael Jackson video. Millions upon billions tuned in to view this ground-breaking new video by the self-proclaimed King of Pop. What they got was.... The man on the stage was wearing stockings, thigh-high black boots, a bustier which hid nothing (including the metallic arm and chest and leg), and a feather boa. He leaned smarmily into the mic, and crooned.
"How do you do At this point, several major stations were already frantically attempting to stop the boradcast. They couldn't.
"Let me show you around, maybe play you a sound In Westchester, New York, Tabitha was staring at the screen in a horrible fascination. She'd already called the rest of X-Force in.
"Well you got caught with a flat
Night! "That's Cable." "It can't be." "It is." "Ohmigod." "That is SO funny." "*snicker*"
"I'm just a sweet transvestite "Think Dom can run fast enough, this time?" "Probably not." -=-=- *pause* "I had *nothing* to do with it." "Don't, Dom. I know about the first one. Grizzly warned me there was a tape floating around long ago. Who did you go to for the second?" "No one." She snorted. "Screw it, Nate. I wish I'd *been* there to see the second." "It wasn't me." "Well, it certainly looked like you--besides, it just takes a little tequila, and, BAM, instant drunkman who'll do anything." "I don't CARE! There isn't enough tequila on the planet to make me do that!" She crossed her arms, "Uhuh. Look. Nice chatting with you, but there's a training session planned soon." "I didn't do that, Dom." "Certainly looked like you. What, you think Stryfe did it?" "It's possible." "Riiiight. The man who is responsible for death and chaos would take time out of that busy schedule to prance around a stage in some backwater nightclub. Just so he could pretend to be you." "I don't know..." "Nate, just face it. You got fitshaced again, and did another horrible song as karaoke." "I refuse to believe it." "Well, I'd suggest you go ask Stryfe, but he's dead. Besides, he made a career out of lying to you. Doubt that he'd help." Cable sighed. "Fine. Training session?" "Giving up?" "Not on your life." She snorted. "C'mon. Let's go smack around the youngsters who've been laughing at you all week."
Contact me © 2002 ALC Punk! |