Copyright, marvel stuff, blah blah blah, heard it all before, no real continuity, blah blah blah, etc... marvel's is marvel's... blah blah blah... -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Girls' Day Off, or Women Behaving Badly (and the Men Who Love Them) Written by TygerEye(wildcat6@airmail.net) and Fang(skywagon@cyberramp.net) (Don't worry, if you _DO_ decide to write, i'll forward it to her, too, when she gets her server back up...) -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Hey! Where's breakfast??" came the whining cry of a very tired Scott, aka, Cyclops of the X-men. It was early one morning, and things had been slow for the X-men all week long. "Jee-ean!!" Slowly, the rest of the X-MEN trudged in, (half asleep) to the surprise of having no food on the table. From a door on the other side of the dining room, the girls of the team walked in. "We've decided to take the day off from all work," Jean explained. "And we have a list of chores for you, that need to be done." The men all cried in unison, "CHORES?!? What the _hell_ do you mean, CHORES?" Betsy Braddock stepped forward, "You heard us. Chores." "Yeah!" added Jubilee, blowing a rasberry, then throwing an apologetic look at Wolvie. "And we want the house cleaned nicely for the Professor's return, so, no jokes!" A groan went all around the guys group. The girls exited the room, leaving the men to look over the list they had written for them. "Well, it can't be _THAT_ bad, right?" Everyone turned to stare at Scott. "Um, well, here." he said, taking hold of the list. "I have an idea... We'll do the outside chores like shopping and going to the laundromat, and while we're at it, we can stop and get donuts." Though they still looked reluctant, the thought of donuts, glazed ones, chocolate ones, with the little colorful sprinkles... krullers... ummmmmmmm... donuts... *droooool* well, that thought got them moving, and off they went, to a donut shop, then the laundromat. From the back of the car, Bobby was singing, "Hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to the laundromat we go!" "Cut it out!" Next he started chanting. "Donuts, donuts, donuts." Sitting at a table, the five girls are playing poker. They have chips & dip, (IBC root) beer, and some of Logan's cigars (and/or cigarettes) hanging from their mouths, unlit (except for Jubes, of course). Jean, wearing her cap backwards, was dealing out a new hand. Jubilee was trying her best to keep a poker face, but she had two queens, and two eights, her best hand so far. Rogue had zip, but continued to play, hoping she could bluff 'em. Storm kept a straight face, but her eyes betrayed her feelings. Betsy leaned back in her chair, watching the rest of the players cooly, from under the shade of her cap. Since none of them called out... "Alright, Girls, play your cards," the dealer told them. Jubilee set her cards down, her face proud and smiling. Next, Rogue played her two fives. Then, Jean played her two kings and two sixes. Betsy tossed her three sevens down, and finally, Storm, smiling, revealed three aces. Everyone else groaned. "Ah, hell, Gal! You won, _again_!" Rogue complained. "You've won every game we've played!" Jubilee intoned. "Hmmm. Perhaps we should find another game then." "Nah. Let's just watch some tv." At the Laundromat, or The Dryers That Eat Socks,(and the men who use them) "That is too much soap." "No it's not, Hank." "Yes, Warren, it is." "No. No, it's not!" "Yes it is!" "I said it isn't, so it isn't!" "Hey, who's the one with the degree over here?" "Oh, don't start that, Mr.'I can't find a cure to the Legacy Virus'!" "Ha! You're one to talk, Mr. 'I'm so rich I can use a hundred dollar bill to wipe my'-" "Achemm! Guys! Number one, people are starting to stare, and number two, we're all going to be swimming soon if you don't do something about that washer!!" "Wha..? Oh my stars and garters! Turn it off!!" "I _know_ I have to turn it off! What do you think I am, stupid?" "Well, now that you mention it..." "Hey..!" "Guys, the WASHER!!" "Oh, right," replied Hank, reaching over and turning the knob. Scott, who had been the third party in this conversation, opened the washer and reached in. He pulled out a t-shirt, that used to be white. "Ok, who put the red sock in with my whites?!?" Everyone looked at Bobby. "Hey! Don't look at me!" Hank looked at the pink shirt. "Well," he stated, "don't you like the color pink?" "No! It's a sissy color." Scott replied, with a pout. A rather large man in a neon pink shirt who was using the washers next to them, looked up. "What did you say?" "Uh... nothing... I, uh, said that pink was a, uh, very nice color! *hehe*" "That's what I thought." At another washer, Bobby pulls out a frilly piece of lingerie. "Oooh! Who's is this?" Walking over, Scott grabs it from him. "Give me that!" "Oh! I'm getting an interesting mental picture!" "That's disgusting!" "Oh! No! No! You guys are _SICK_! I didn't mean it that way! Uggh! Blechh!" The Drying A little later... Bobby sits in a chair, watching the dryer go 'round and round and round and round and round and round and round... "Hey, Gumbo! You owe me ten bucks! The blue sock went by first! Oooh! And look! There goes that red sock again! Wheeee! This is so much fun!" "You lead an extremely dull life, don't you, Bobby?" "We-ell, I wouldn't say _dull_, per se..." "Sure. You just stay in your own dillusional little world." BEEEEEEEEEP! "The dryer's done!" The Folding After pulling all of the clothes from the dryer... "HEY! Dat damn washer ate my sock!" "Are you sure, Gambit?" "Well, considerin' I only got one o' dese," holding up a blue sock, "I'd say it ATE MY SOCK!!" turning to the machine and kicking at it. "Here, let me help ya," said Logan walking over to the machine, and popping his claws,(*snikt*), he shredded the machine. "Here it is!" Gambit called reaching over to pick up his sock. "And look, there's a whole pile of socks back here!" "Hey! There's the one I lost last week!" "Hey! That one looks familiar!" After discovering and distributing the lost socks, "Hey! Look! I found a matching pair!" They started folding the clothes. Hank walks around watching the others fold.(since he really doesn't wear much!) "No! That's not the way to fold, Warren! You have to do it symmetrically!" "Fine. Then *you* do it." Warren, now having free time, turns to Logan, who's sitting next to him. "Hey! Those socks don't match!" "So?" "So, you can't pair unmatching socks!" "Why not?" "You just can't!" "Gimme one good reason, why not." "They don't match!" "Well, I can give ya six good reasons why they go together." *snikt* "1, 2, 3, 6." "Hey! That's not fair!" "Life ain't fair, Bub." "Hey, has anyone seen Bishop?" "He's over in the corner playing pac-man." "Hey! How come you're not helping??" "I am sorry. I keep getting eaten by ghosts!" In front of a tv, the females sat watching a football game. Amongst them, they had 4 bowls of popcorn, 3 of chips, and at least 20 bottles of IBC. Jubilee laid on the floor, her chin propped up on her elbows. Storm was sitting in the easy chair, her feet propped up on an ottoman. Jean, Rogue, and Betsy sat on the couch fighting over the two pillows. In the midst of their bickering, a pillow fell on Jubes. In a playful mood, she stood up and threw the pillow full force into Rogue's face. Then, looking at Rogue's stunned face, everyone startd to giggle. Out of her shocked state, Rogue grabbed the nearest object, which happened to be a bowl of popcorn. She dumped this over Jube's head. "Hey!" "Serves ya right!" Meanwhile, Storm, Betsy & Jean are laughing uncontrollably. A look passes between Rogue and Jubilee. As if on cue, 'Ro, Betsy, and Jean are bombarded with pillows and popcorn. When the rain of objects stopped, everyone was a huge mess, and all of them were in hysterics. "Ya'll look like you've been through a tornado!" "Have you looked in a mirror lately?" "Yeah, well you like like you just rolled out of bed, and into a bag of popcorn!" This started everyone laughing again. And it just keeps going and going and going!!! AAAAAHHH!!! To the Store-Junk Food addicts and the woman who are stupid enough to let them do the shopping... The group of men arrived at the store, glancing warily about them. Though they had often eaten food from a grocery store, none had ever passed through those automatic doors before. What they beheld was both confusing and wonderous to a male persona. Bobby immediately grabbed a cart and the list and started off down an aisle. Scott, Warren, and Remy trailed after him. Hank, Bishop, and Logan headed in a different direction with another shopping basket. "Hmmm, milk... milk... oh, here we are!" Bobby grabbed a container of chocolate milk and started moving again. Warren eyed the container dubiously. "You know, I don't think-" "No, don't think. Grab." commanded Scott, snatching a chocolate cake. "Bread." he announced, proudly holding up his prize. The others applaud and follow suit. Meanwhile, Hank, Bishop and Logan rooted around in the soup aisle. Logan held up a can of creamed mushroom soup. "Here." "No, no, no, it's dented... I CAN'T have a dented can." Hank returns to shuffling through the shelves. "It's the *only* can on the shelf. TAKE IT!!" "There HAS to be another can around somewhere..." "ARRRRRGGGGH!" "Is this a common practice in obtaining food?" "Shaddup." "Right." Bobby looked over at the great wall of frozen food with a sigh. His eyes spotted a brightly colored package, and he lets out a whoop, charging towards it. "Look!" He gestured to the cardboard box, bearing a picture of a bright purple frog in bermuda shorts and a turquoise cat in a sunbonnet. "Oooo..." the men chorused. "And it even comes with a green dessert!" "Aaaaaaah!" they replied. Twenty or so boxes were dumped in the cart. The two groups meet at the checkout, whose clerk eyed them with some apprehension. None the less, she began to scan the two carts of food, one looking like it had been used by childen lookig for a sugar high, (wheeee) and the other was geometrically planned out, the frozen items on the opposite from the air freshener, and not a dented box or can in the lot. They paid for their items and began to load them into the car. "Um, I don't think we're going to have enough room..." started Warren. "We'll MAKE it fit, " growled Wolverine, shoving another bag into the already packed car. "You are expecting the car to drive itself home, eh?" questioned Gambit, shuffling a pack of cards absently. "No, but a few people I know might be runnin' along side if they don't start helpin'." He glared at the unmoving Gambit, who, as if by some magical force, leaped into action, stuffing bags into the vehicle. Ten minutes later, they were bouncing along the road towards home, Warren sitting on Beast's lap, Remy on Bishop's, and Bobby on Logan's. Scott, of course, was driving. The road itself was not one of the more pleasant ones to be on when you're piled into a car like the clowns at the circus. "OW!" "Get your elbow out of my ear!" "Only if you get your foot outta my face!" "Easier said than done..." "Man, it's called AVOIDING THE POTHOLES!!!" "I'm trying!" "The hell you are! You're doing this on purpose!" Bounce> "I'm startin' to agree wi' you, Bobby.." "Now THAT'S a first!" At Home-While the Cat's Away, the Mice Will play "BURRRRRRRRRRRP!" "Nice one, 'Ro!" "Thank you, thank you." The women were apparently engaged in a belching contest, reclined serenely on the couches with popcorn and pillows scattered randomly about the room. They were throwing interesting questions at one another while they waited for the prevoiusly consumed IBC to resurface with a vengeance. "And so I said to Warren, what do you mean, KFC?? I thought we were on a date!" The women groan in commiseration with Betsy, and snicker at the thought of lithe, lean Psylocke eating fried chicken, and what probably happened to Archangel because of it. Jean was in the middle of attempting to burp the alphabet when Jubilee came running back in from the kitchen where she was dumping the used ice cream dishes in the sink. "The guys are home!" she yelped in panic. Instantly, the girls flew into action (Rogue quite literally) scooping up popcorn and shoving it under the cushions of the couch or behind the stereo. Jubilee frantically picked up cards. When she had an armload, she started to shriek, "The cards, where do I put the cards?!?!?!" "Uh... Gambit's coat!! He'll never know the difference!" Jubilee started cramming cards into every pocket of his coat she could find, with the end result being that it looked like it had been stuufed by a taxidermist. Jean ran over to her and handed her her coat. "Here, " she hissed, "follow our lead." As the guy stumble in with some groceries, the girls saunter cooly by them saying, "We're just on our way out. See you later." "Much later," one of the girls breathed, and it was followed by a chorus of giggles. The guys just stood and stared, mouthes hanging open, as the girls piled into the red convertable mustang and drove away. "It's that time again." "To stand on our heads?" "To shoot the first lady?" "No, to clean the house!" "NOOO!!!" "Do we have to??" After arriving home, the males of the house grew afraid. Very, afraid. They knew what was to happen next. And that something was worse than facing Magneto, Sabretooth, and Apocolypse, AND, it was _ALMOST_ as bad as *gulp* facing a troupe of circus CLOWNS! Scott pulled out the dreaded list. Taking a long, deep breath, Scott began to read the list. "Ok, here's what we have to do..." On the road again... As the girls stopped for a red light, a carful of cute guys pulled up beside them. Trying to keep from drooling, the girls turned to say hi. "H..i..!" was the response they got, as the males in the next car noticed them, and a 'He-llooooooo, Nurse!' look crossed their faces. The green light flashed and Storm, the designated driver (she only had 3 bottles of IBC), gassed the car, sending the others flying back into their seats. "Hey!" "Slow down so we can apologize to those nice, _young_, *CUTE*, guys!!" Rogue shouted to Storm. "Yeah! That was the closest I've ever been to an entire carful of cute guys!" Jubilee added. "That was the closest ANY of us have been to a carful of cute guys!" Psylocke intoned. "I don't believe that will be necessary..." "WHAT??" was the reply to Storm from the entire car. "...They're tailing us." She finished. "Hit the gas!" They all shouted at once. "Happy to comply." They speed ahead of the carful of _horny_, cute guys, and then, when they'd lost them, they slowed down a bit. "Well, what now?" "Hey! Isn't that a Chippendale's up there?" "Oh! Yeah!" "No!" "Why not?" Storm motioned to Jubilee, sitting in the back. "Ah! Com'on, guys! I don't mind!" "Well, we could lock her in the car..." "Betsy!" "What do *you* suggest?" "We'll just have to skip _that_ place." A unanimous groan of disappointment arose from the inhabitants of the car as they sped by the strip club. Then Jean grinned at Storm. "I know a place we can go..." "DIE, EVIL COBWEBS, DIE!!!" screamed Warren as he batted wildly at the millions of spiderwebs that hung about his face and head. "Uh, mon ami, Gambit don't t'ink dat gonna 'elp much," Gambit called up to the Hovering Archangel as he walked across the entryway to the kitchen. "You wanna try this, Gumbo???" Warren shrieked at Remy's retreating back, flying near the ceiling, attempting to dislodge the accumulated cobwebs. "No, Gambit's going to help Bish with the dishes," Scott stated flatly, shoving a dishcloth into Remy's empty hands. "WHAT?!?!?!" yelped Gambit. "Ruin my finesse by doin' de dishes? My hands are works of art! You cannot ruin de works by assigning me to dishwashing!!!" Scott looked over at the irate Gambit. "If you don't want to do the dishes, fine. You can do the bathroom for me." In a flash, Gambit had darted into the kitchen. "Oh, dat's alright, mon ami, I'll jus' use de Palmolive." "Figures," Scott sighed, and picks up the Comet, preparing to attack the multiple bathrooms of the household. Hank breezed by underneath Archangel, who was still screaming about the damn cobwebs, with his blue furry nose in a book held by one hand, and a feather duster in the other. He hummed a soft, off-key tune as he flitted the duster around on the counters, a pink flowery apron tied securly at his waist. Bobby, on the other hand, was idiotically swinging around a mop, pretending to dance with it, singing an Italian tune so loud the neighbors probably could hear it. "What are you doing?" demands Scott, reappearing in search of a toilet scrubber. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm dancing with Bianca." "Bianca??" "Yes, Bianca. What, don't you like her?" "Hey, Slim, leave 'em be. 'Bout the only date popsicle could get, nowadays." Logan, bearing an Olde English can of funiture polish and a rag, walked briefly through the room. "Now look, you've hurt Bianca's feelings. Apologize." Bobby gestures to the mop, which was dripping water. "Good mop." Scott patted it and hurried out of the room. "Hank, you like my mop, Bianca, don't you? Warren?" "Oh, yes, she's lovely, Bobby. You two make a perfect couple," snorted Warren. Hank didn't even look up from his book. *DROP!!CRASH!!BANG!!* "Stop dropping the dishes, Gambit!" "Sorry, Bishop, dere slippery!" "Hmmphh." *DROP!!CRASH!!BANG!!* "GAMBIT!!" "Sorry..." "Grrrr..." *DROP!!CRASH!!BANG!!* "ARRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!!!! Gambit! I think you're doing that on purpose!!" "No I'm not!" "Hmmphh." "Sorry." "No you're not!" "If you drop one more dish..." Bishop said through clenched teeth, shaking a finger at the Cajun, who was, at the moment, putting on his best "I'm innocent!" act. "Ye'sir." *DROP!!CRASH!!BANG!!* "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! Why you little..." Bishop started coming toward Gambit with his hands outstretched, reaching for his neck. "Now, Bishop!" Scott came into the kitchen, looking for another sponge, and finding Gambit quietly (and quickly) backing away from an enraged Bishop. (Will Gambit survive Bishop's rage? Will Scott ever quit looking for cleaning supplies? read on to find out!) "De girls are gonna flip when dey see dis mess..." Gambit looked down at the multiple fragments of dishes all over the floor. "And we only got a couple more plates.. eep!" He ducked an entourage of four dishes flying towards his head. They smashed against the wall behind him. "Correction. We now have NO dishes." Bishop stared icily at Gambit after throwing the plates. Scott entered the kitchen again, in search of the glass cleaner, to the sound of Wolvie's bellowing, "I DON'T DO WINDOWS!" in the background. Scott sighed again. "You're gonna have to go out and buy more dishes--and make sure they match." He walked out of the kitchen again, screaming, "OH YES YOU DO!!" Gambit and Bishop looked at the floor, then at each other. "Oh, brother..." "Well...hold on, I'll go get my coat." Remy left to go get his coat, leaving Bishop to sigh, and grab a broom to sweep up the broken china. A few moments later, a shout goes out, that stopped everyone in their tracks. "Allright! Who bought the blue backed cards?!? Everyone _knows_ I use *red* backed cards!!" "Oh, stop shouting! We have to go buy dishes!" Meanwhile, in the living room, Hank is still dusting, while Bobby (who's done mopping) is now dancing around the room with a second duster. "Hey! Watch your..." *CRASH!!!* "...elbow." Hank finished. "Hey, while you're at it, Remy, buy a new lamp." Finally, Gambit and Bishop are on their way out the door, with a fragment of the shattered plates. "Think they'll come back with something that even halfway matches?" Scott speculated. "Not a chance." Hank replied, still not looking up from his book. At the Bar "Jubilee can't go in there! She's not over 18!" "So?" "Well, as long as she doesn't drink!" So, into the bar they went, to get a drink, and maybe dance, too. Buying Dishes. 'nuff said. "Does this match?" "No, Remy! You see this?" holding out the shard of the dish they had taken with them, "It is *BLUE*. You see the dish you're pointing out? It is *yellow*. Those two colors are _not_ the same. OK?" "Ya don' have ta be mean about it!" "I'm sorry. It's been a very *long* day." "Dat's ok, mon ami." So, they continued their never-ending search for matching dishes. "Do you really think dey'ed notice if it was a different color?" Bishop sighed. In a tired voice he answered, "Yes, Gambit. I think they might." "Oh." He was silent a moment. Then, "Why?" "Because, they are very intelligent people." Remy started to ask why, again, but Bishop stopped him with a glare. "And just leave it at that!" he growled. Two or three hours later, they finally found a match. Well, almost. "Close enough. Let's go home." After purchasing the dishes(with the professor's credit card), they walked out to their car. When they had just turned on Greymalkin Lane, Gambit spoke up. "Um...I t'ink we forgot the lamp, mon ami." Clutching the steering wheel in a crushing grip, Bishop spoke thru clenched teeth, "Just forget it!" "But, won't dey notice?" "No." "But earlier, you said-" "I _SAID_ forget it!" Gambit returned to silence, as they continued the drive. At the mansion, the men are just finishing up the final chores on the list. "Not bad, if I do say so myself!" Scott, looked around, beaming proudly at their accomplishments. "Now, if only Gambit and Bishop would hurry with those dishes!" He heard the door open. "That must be them now!" Instead, he heard the girls voices, all of them talking excitedly at once. As he rounded the hall, and walked towards the front door, he could make out a few comments. "And the bar! I think i drank a bit too much!" Everyone laughed. And continued talking. "Wow! That was like totally awesome! And about that nud-" Jubilee stopped in mid- sentance, as she saw Scott's horrified and shocked face. "Uh...Hi?" Pulling into the driveway, they failed to notice the girl's car, in the open garage. Entering the front door, Gambit announced, "We got de dish--," but froze in mid- sentence as he noticed all of the girls watching them, in silence. A few moments later, everyone is sitting quietly at the table. Storm spoke up first, "Well, would anyone like to explain what happened while we were gone?" Scott returned with, "Only if you tell us what you've been up to!" After an exchange of stories, with several chuckles, blushes, and smiles, Scott spoke up, "Now. Let us never speak of this day again." Everyone agreed. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- We apologize if we offended anyone with this stereotypical view. We don't really think men (or women) are like that. We just thought it was fun to exagerate on the idea, so nyah! if you don't like it! Not really! Tho we'd really LOVE your comments! (hopefully they're nice!) Well, we filled it with corny jokes, and cheap laughs. Boy, wasn't that fun! Anyway, we've got a couple other stories in the works. Now... if we'll ever stop being lazy and write it down, is another story! Hmmm... gives me an idea! Nah, anyway...we just wrote this for fun, _and_ we were REALLY bored! Send comments to addresses at top of story. And *LAUGH* for gosh sake! at's wrong with you people?!? Cheeze Whiz!