Evil Hate Cow # 1 (perch_and_creep) wrote in dolltongue,
Evil Hate Cow # 1

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author: fuzzyblue
disclaimer: fuzzyblue doesn't own the x-men.
fandom: x-men, especially dr. henry mccoy, the beast.
email: feedback for fuzzyblue
website/homepage: fuzzyblue's website fuzzyblue's ff.net account please read and review some of her other fic

DISCLAIMER: Hello all you little Marvel boys and girls! We're going to learn a new word today! It's 'sue'! Can you say it with me? Sue! Good for you! Now I'm going to teach you a very special word that goes in front of 'sue'. That word is 'no'! Can you say this word? Oh, I see you're really good at that! Now, we're going to say the two words together. Are you ready? Okay, one, two three: No Sue! No Sue! No Sue! You've got it! Good for you! That's all for today's lesson, kids!

I got the inspiration for this after reading JazzPizza's versions of I am Canadian for Remy, Rogue, Jean and Storm. I highly recommend you read them, they're hilarious! I was a little disappointed that there wasn't one for Hank, so I decided to write it myself. Here ya go!


I am not a monster, or a geek.

And I don't wear tape on my glasses, speak with an annoying nasal voice, or shed allover the furniture.


And I don't know Lightning, Speedball or Bob from the Brotherhood,

although I've probably trounced them once or twice.

I have a University Degree, not a certificate.

I speak English, and French, and Spanish, and Japanese, and Mandarin Chinese, and Arabic, and Latin, and...

where was I? Oh, yes...

And the words 'star' and 'garter' CAN both be included in the same sentence.

I can proudly wear glasses and a pocket protector.

I believe in mutant-human coexistence, not isolation;

unity not separation;

and that Twinkies are truly the fifth food group.

A cat is a feline, a car is a vehicle.

And it is pronounced 'Theh-saurus', not 'Thee-saurus', Thesaurus!

Mutants are currently the fastest-growing minority,

fur and fangs can be pretty darn sexy,

and blue is the best colour in the entire spectrum!


* * *

Have you ever wondered just how Xavier choses a leader for the X-Men when the need arises? Read and find out (and let me know what you think).

DISCLAIMER: All Marvel characters belong to Marvel (unfortunately). Don't sue me, unless you want to become the proud owner of a few biology text books and some belly button lint.


The Professor was sitting (yeah, sitting) in his office, deep in thought. Jean and Cyclops had left to pursue a duo-type career by starring in their very own comic book. Now he was left with the job of choosing a new leader for the X-Men.

Storm and Wolverine are excellent candidates, he thought to himself. But could they really fill Cyclops' shoes? He wasn't sure they had the....rigidity...to match up to their former leader. Oh well. He'd just have to wait and see.

* * *

The X-Men were assembled in the rec-room: Bobby and Jubilee were engaged in a bloody battle to the finish on the latest kill 'em all Sega Genesis game. Rogue and Gambit were playing pool, Wolverine was watching football while Beast and Storm were deeply engaged in a philosophical discussion about some philosophical subject.

Professor Xavier entered the room. "Ah, my X-Men," he said. "It is time that I have chosen a new leader to...well...lead you."

He had their attention.

"There are two among you whom I consider to be the best candidates for the position. Logan, Ororo, could you step forward please."

They did so, Storm hiding a smirk and Wolverine puffing his chest out in manly pride.

"The position of team leader is a difficult one," the prof continued. "It takes a lot of effort and discipline, and requires wisdom, a quick mind and above all, rigidity."

Storms smirk grew in a huge grin. Wolverine smiled with an expression that read, "Screw you all! I'M the BEST!"
"Now, that having been said, I will leave it up to the two of you to decide who the new leader will be," said the professor. Then, reaching behind his back, produced a broomstick and presented it to the two suddenly confused candidates.

"Once you have decided, I will need the winner to bend over," he instructed.

For the longest moment, nothing could be heard but stunned silence. Then Wolverine sucker-punched Storm in the gut and bolted for the door. Storm dropped to the ground, but was not out for the count. A bolt of lighting crashed through the window and raced after Wolverine like a heat-seeking missile. The howl of pain that ensued made her smile before she got to her feet and ran out the door as well.

"Aw, crap!" the professor muttered. "I thought something like this would happen."

He turned to the remaining X-Men, broomstick still in hand, and said, "Anyone else want to volunteer?"

A new doorway was suddenly added to the rec room as the remaining X-Men fled the scene, clawing and fighting and pushing and trampling and basically trying to get the hell away from the professor as quickly as possible.

The Professor sighed. This process of acquiring a new leader was going to be a long one. He wished to God that Cyclops had never left.

* * *

SUMMARY: Not much of a story, really. I was busy making my Christmas cookies when the thought, 'What if Wolverine had to cook a turkey?' popped into my head and just would not leave me alone. Here's the result. I hope you enjoy! Rated R for language. (Hey, it's WOLVERINE, alright?!)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own them. They don't own me (sigh).


JUBILEE: Tell me again why we're doin' this?

LOGAN: Everyone else is out on a mission, an' I got 'volunteered' to babysit you two. Since it's also Christmas Day, we're stuck cooking dinner.

BOBBY: Babysit?! I'm twenty-five years old!

LOGAN: An' it'll be another ten years before I even trust you with scissors, Drake.

JUBILEE: They're gonna let YOU mangle Christmas dinner? Am I gonna have ta eat it?

LOGAN: I eat YOUR cooking, don't I?

JUBILEE: Wolvie!

BOBBY: Yeah, but you've got a healing factor!

JUBILEE: Hey! Who's side are you on, Drake?

LOGAN: Shut it, Jubes! Alright, does either of you have any idea how to cook a turkey?


LOGAN: Great. Is there a cookbook around here or somethin' that we can use?

Bobby looks through the books on the shelf.

BOBBY: Yep, here we are! Martha Stewart's guide to cooking the perfect turkey!

LOGAN: Who the hell is Martha Stewart?

BOBBY: What?! She is THE authority on...well...basically everything! How could you NOT have heard of her?

LOGAN: Is there a Martha Stewart guide to fixing your motorcyle?



BOBBY: Aaaanywaaays...let's see. Okay, step one: place turkey in fridge three days before you want to cook it so it can defrost properly.

LOGAN: Did anybody do that?

JUBILEE (hauling the turkey out of the deep-freeze): Doesn't look like it.

LOGAN: Shit. Alright, wait just a second.

Logan sticks his head out the kitchen door.

LOGAN: Hey, Guthrie! Get yer a$$ in here!

SAM: Whatever do y'all want?

JUBILEE: Can you defrost the turkey for us?

SAM: Sure!

Sam applies his thermal/kinetic field to the turkey. It defrosts.

BOBBY: Hey! Why isn't HE out on the mission? Why isn't HE in here being tortured with the rest of us?

SAM: There was a mission an' nobody told me?

Sam's lower lip puffs out and he goes off somewhere to sulk.

JUBILEE: Nice going, Icepop!

BOBBY: I was only making an observation.

LOGAN: Keep yer observations to yerself and just read the damn book.

BOBBY: Fine. Step two: wash the turkey.

LOGAN: What? Why the hell would we wash it? It's been in the freezer for the past month, not the back yard!

BOBBY: That's what it says! I didn't write the book, you know.

LOGAN: We'll just skip that part.

BOBBY: Okay. Step three: pull out the gibblets.

JUBILEE: What're gibblets and how do we pull 'em out?

BOBBY: You've gotta stick your hand up it's a$$ and pull out the insides.

JUBILEE: Eeeeewwww!!! I'M not touching that!!!

LOGAN: We'll just leave it in an' call it stuffing. What's the next step?

BOBBY: Step four: dress the turkey.

LOGAN: Are we getting it ready for a date or something?

BOBBY: I think it means we've gotta put the spices and seasonings on it.

LOGAN: Oh. What do we put on it, then?

BOBBY: Martha suggests we use poultry seasoning. If we don't have any, she says we should use a blend of sage, thyme and rosemary.

LOGAN: We got any of that, Jubes?

JUBILEE: Er...we've got some red stuff, some brown stuff, and a whole lot of different kinds of green stuff.

LOGAN: Use the red stuff and some of the green stuff.

BOBBY: Are you sure that's a good idea?

LOGAN: It's Christmas dinner, ain't it? And red and green are Christmas colours.

BOBBY: I think I should get my head examined like Hank keeps telling me to do. That actually makes sense to me.

LOGAN: Just keep readin', Icepop.

BOBBY: Sigh. Step five: put turkey in oven.

LOGAN: That we can do.

BOBBY: Maybe we should put it in a pan, first.

JUBILEE: I'm still not touching it.

Logan dumps the bird in a pan and stuffs it in the oven.

LOGAN: Now what?

BOBBY: Step six: set oven to 325 degrees and allow twenty minutes of cooking time per pound of bird.

LOGAN: What? How heavy was that thing?

JUBILEE: About 20 pounds.

BOBBY: That means we've gotta leave it in the oven for six hours!

LOGAN: Shit! They're all due back in half an hour!

BOBBY: I TOLD you we shoulda started this earlier.

LOGAN: Shut up.

JUBILEE: Should I go find Sam?

LOGAN: Forget it. Alright, 325 degrees for six hours should just about equal 500 degress for thirty minutes.

Logan sets the oven for 500 degrees.

BOBBY: You flunked math, didn't you?


BOBBY: Shutting up now.

LOGAN: Good.

JUBILEE: What're we gonna do for vegetables?

LOGAN: Vegetables? Why the hell would you want vegetables when you've got a nice chunk of meat on yer plate?

BOBBY: Good point. But we've got to have vegetables to go with the turkey. Martha says so in the book.

LOGAN: Do you do everything Martha says?

JUBILEE: Only if it's Martha's guide to Sex for Dummies.

BOBBY: Ha ha, funny.

LOGAN: So what are we going to do for vegetables?

JUBILEE: Are Twinkies vegetables?

LOGAN: Twinkies?

BOBBY: Well, they're made with vegetable oil, aren't they?

LOGAN: That works for me. Let's go get some Twinkies.

JUBILEE: Can we get some Ding Dongs and Hostess Cupcakes, too?

LOGAN: Drake?

BOBBY: Vegetable oil and corn oil!

LOGAN: Alright. Let's go.

* * *

All the X-Men have now sat down to Christmas dinner. Logan, Bobby and Jubilee uncover the painstakingly prepared dishes.

HANK: Twinkies!!! Alright!!!

Everyone else is just staring blankly at the sugary side-dishes. The turkey looks brown, at least on the outside.

LOGAN: What the hell is everyone waitin' for? Dig in!

Hank grabs a handful of Twinkies. Nobody else moves, as they're all still in shock.

BOBBY (pouting): We went through all the trouble of makin' you guys a Christmas dinner, an' now you're not even gonna bother to eat it?

The look on Bobby's face makes the others feel guilty and they all tentatively put some twinkies on their plates. Hank already has creamy filling smeared around his mouth.

BOBBY: That's better! Now who's gonna carve the turkey?

Logan pops his claws and makes a few deft stabs at the bird.
Blood splatters Jean's shirt.

JEAN: Eeeeekk! Logan, it's not even cooked!

LOGAN: Sure it is! It's brown, ain't it?

JUBILEE: Ya! Who knew that mixing red and green together makes brown!

ALL X-MEN EXCEPT HANK: We're not eating this! (Hank is too busy scarfing Twinkies to notice any part of the conversation.)

LOGAN: Look, dammit! I wasted a perfectly good afternoon to cook a flamin' Christmas dinner for all you ungrateful bastards, an' you're gonna eat it even if I have ta shove it down your throats!

BOBBY (light bulb appears over his head): Hey! If Sam finishes cooking the turkey, will you guys eat it?

ALL X-MEN EXCEPT HANK (muttering): Sure. Whatever.

Sam roasts the bird and they all stare down at the table and try to hold back the urge to barf as Logan lays slices of dry, slightly charred turkey on all their plates.

SAM: Where's the stuffin'?

BOBBY: In the bird.

SAM: That sure as hell don't LOOK like stuffin'...


SAM: Mmmmmm boy! Jus' like momma's home cookin'! *munch...munch...munch...gag...!*

JEAN: urk!

SCOTT: choke...!

ROGUE: Ah think ah'm gonna be sick...

REMY: Yuk! Who in d'ere right minds puts cinnamon and dill on a turkey?!

LOGAN (*snikt*): I'm slitting the throat of the next person who complains about this dinner, got it?!

X-MEN (muttering): Got it.

* * *

Epilogue: The X-men finish their dinner in relative silence and spend the next three days suffering from food poisoning.


P.S: Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated. *waits...waits...and waits some more....no feedback* Fine! please please Please PLEASE review!!! I'm begging you! For the love of God, please review!!!!! (hmmmm...that was a bit overdramatic, wasn't it? I'd better lay off the Christmas cookies...)

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