DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit work of fan-fiction involving characters created and owned by Marvel Comics Group. * WRITTEN BY * * ARCHIVED AT * * INSPIRED BY * * DEDICATED TO * * STARRING * A Part * CO-STARRING * * GUEST STARRING * * AND STARRING * * CONTINUITY * Bishop. Time-lost soldier and steadfast X-Man for several decades during which he has experienced unimaginable adventures and almost constantly risked his life in the most incredible situations. Every time, he has survived, proven that he is One Of The Strong (TM). A tough guy. Kickin' homey. Ass-whupper extraordinaire. The Best There Is At What He Does (R). "Hey, Bish," Robert Drake wheezed as he leaned on the bannister of the stairway leading to the second floor of the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, catching his second wind so he could try for the second third up the stairs. "Greetings, Drake," Bishop boomed as he walked down the stairs, a towel slung around his massive neck, as thick as his waist. His chest muscles rippled underneath his tight-fitting black T-shirt saying 'TRAIN / it is not only a conveyance / it is a way to keep fit' in large yellow block letters. "Are you having problems getting upstairs?" "Nah," Robert shook his wrinkled face with a faint smile. "Just ... uh ... doing a study on how many people in this house would help an infirm old man get upstairs ... Just research," he said, and coughed slightly, a bit of red liquid spattering from his mouth and landing on the steps in front of him. "Of course," Bishop answered, and grabbed the back of Robert's shirt, lifting him to stand upright. "I am, naturally, always available to assist my teammates. Now, take a step ... good, now another ... and another ... good, you are doing well, Drake," he spoke as he walked beside Iceman, holding Drake up while they slowly proceeded towards the top of the stairs. "I made it!" Robert sputtered in exhaustion as they reached the top of the stairs, and collapsed in a weary heap on the landing, trying to regulate his raspy breathing. "Wow, thanks, Bish!" "It was no trouble at all," Bishop rumbled stoically, and then picked Iceman up, the frail old man eclipsed by Bishop who was wider shoulder to shoulder than Drake was tall. "Now, the second time." Bobby blinked in confusion, even as Bishop hoisted him up above his head. "Second time --?" "After all, give a boy a fish, and you have fed him for one day," Bishop said in his deep voice, before throwing Iceman down the stairs. "Teach him to fish, and you have fed him for life!" "Ow! Augh! Unf! Argh! Gack! My spleen!" Robert cried out as he rolled down the stairs, and finally crashed to the bottom of the stairs a few moments later, breathing heavily. "Now, let's try this again," Bishop said, crossing his arms over his six-foot-wide barrel chest and watching from the top of the stairs. "This time, without my help." An hour later, Iceman had made it to the top of the stairs three times, each time thrown back down by Bishop even harder. By this time, he was black and blue all over, with several dozen fractured bones, and really needed to go to the bathroom. "C'mon, Bish -- I need to go, like, now!" he gasped as he fell onto his knees halfway up the stairs. "Necessity is the mother of endurance, Drake," Bishop's voice declared from on high. "Invention," Drake wheezed while trying to catch his breath. "That, too." Robert Drake forced himself back up onto his shaky, bruised, battered, achy feet, and managed to stumble one step further towards the top, before clutching at his chest. "Oh man," he gasped. "Shouldn't ... have gone ... to McBurger's..." he breathed out, before collapsing headlong onto the stairs. "Drake!" Bishop roared and rushed down to the fallen X-Man and quickly kneeling beside him. He leaned down, and pressed his mouth against Robert's, blowing air into his lungs, before putting his hands together into one massive fist, raising it over his head, and smashing down onto Iceman's chest. SPLUSH! "Ugh!" Bishop said as a red squishy thing exploded out of Robert's mouth and hit him in the face. He pulled his hands out of Drake's now-open bloody mess of a chest and pulled the red squishy thing off his face. "Well," Bishop said flatly. "At least his heart was in the right place..." After nailing Iceman's body to the outside of the front door by his collar and using a staple gun to fix a plaque saying 'WITH FRIENDS LIKE THIS, YOU DON'T WANT TO BE OUR ENEMY' onto Drake's forehead, Bishop headed into the kitchen, his broad shoulders leaving gouges in the walls of the hallways. "Good morning, Phoenix," Bishop said as he crashed thru the doorway into the kitchen, his shoulders bashing big chunks out of the sides of the doorway as he entered. "How is breakfast coming along?" "Just fine, Bishop," Jean answered as she brushed some grey hair off her face before starting to slice up a banana. "Did you sleep well?" "Most so," Bishop replied as he made his way to the coffee machine and grabbed the full pot. He opened his mouth, then slugged back the contents, then put the pot back in the machine. "Nothing like a cup of coffee to start off a day." Jean paused slicing bananas and put some more water in the machine, starting the coffee dripping again, before scooping up the banana slices and heading over to the large cake she was making on the counter beside her. "So, how are you preparing for the big day?" she asked. "I have doubled my shifts," Bishop replied. "I will do 49 hours of perimeter patrolling today. Nothing less would do full honor to the fiftieth anniversary of the X-Men's founding." "I'm sure Professor Xavier would appreciate that," Jean nodded as she brought the cake over from the counter onto the breakfast table and started laying the banana slices on top of the cake layer. "I am certain he would," Bishop said as he waited for the coffee to drip. As soon as there was enough in the pot for a cup, he took a cup from a cupboard, and poured the black sludge from the pot into the cup. "Where is Cyclops? I devised a flawless security plan last night and I would like to outline it to him." He sat down at the table and sipped at his cup of coffee while watching Jean make the cake. "He'll be along shortly," Jean replied and finished laying the banana slices onto the cake, then reached for a new layer of the cake to put atop the banana slices. "You really should relax a bit, Bishop. None of us are exactly young anymore, and you're just driving your body to an early grave with that constant stress." "Nonsense, Phoenix," Bishop said as he took another sip of coffee, then held the cup in the air before him as he spoke. "My body is in a perfect condition. Only through constant exercise and vigilance can we hone our powers and abilities to a razor's edge --" PLONK! Bishop's eyes widened as his hand fell off. Jean hummed a happy tune as she placed the new cake layer atop the banana slices. Incidentally, Bishop's hand and the coffee cup it was holding had also fallen onto the banana slices, and were covered up by the cake layer. "My, I must've put more banana slices in there than I thought!" she said admiringly, before starting to spray whipped cream on top of the bulging cake layer. Bishop stared at the cake being covered in whipped cream for a moment, considering saying something along the lines of, 'Uh ... my hand...?', but Jean was quickly finished and Bishop -- well, he didn't really want to mention that his hand fell off. So he stuffed the stump into his pocket and hoped for the best. "Bishop, what happened to Iceman?" Cyclops' voice rang out as Scott Summers limped into the kitchen, leaning onto his cane. "What do you mean 'happened to Iceman', Scott?" Jean asked, blinking confusedly as she glanced towards her husband. "Is Bobby okay?" "No, he's dead and stapled to the front door of the building," Scott answered and narrowed his eyes at Bishop. "Have you been training again?" Bishop lowered his eyes and shuffled his feet a bit. "I was only trying to help..." he offered sheepishly. "Yes well, your 'help' has already killed more X-Men than all our enemies combined, Bishop," Scott retorted as he took a seat at the table, looking at the cake as Jean put the finishing touches to it and started adding the candles onto it. "Mmmm. Looks delicious, honey." Then, he looked back to Bishop. "There is a reason why I told you, no more Jane Fonda exercise videos!" "It's all right, Scott," Jean said and patted Bishop on the head. "Bobby was probably going to die soon anyway, and I'm sure Bishop didn't mean it, did you Bishop?" "No, of course not," Bishop replied. Jean nodded. "Then that's that," she smiled and handed the two men some plates. "Now let's eat, once I light the candles." "Allow me," Scott said, and raised his ruby quartz glasses. "Scott, no --!" Jean shouted, but too late. A ruby quartz beam blasted out Scott's eyes. The eyes ricocheted off the fridge and bounced around the room off several walls before rolling on the floor. "AUUGH!" Scott shouted as he tried to close his eyes but to no avail as the crimson beams coming out of his eyesockets kept flapping the limp eyelids out of the way like leaves in the wind. "Stab my eyes! Stab my eyes!" he kept shouting. Jean quickly levitated Scott's eyes up from the floor towards his eyesockets, grabbed two knives from the wall-holder, and drove them thru the eyeballs, nailing them to the eyesockets. "Whew," Scott said as he managed to close his eyelids around the blades, then carefully pulled them out, keeping his eyelids tightly shut. Then, he lowered his glasses back in place and sighed in relief. "You really should know better, Scott," Jean said as she took a box of matches, lit one, and started lighting the fifty candles. "Your optic blasts are concussive only, not incendiary." "Sorry, honey," Scott nodded. "Blast this dementia." "There," Jean smiled as she finished lighting up all the candles. "You want to do the honors, Scott?" she said as she took a plate for herself, and then sat down at the table. Scott took a deep breath, and then blew as hard as he could towards the candles. One of them flickered a bit, and Scott fell into a coughing and wheezing fit. "Close enough," Jean smiled and telekinetically snuffed out the candles, then picked them off the cake and put them aside. "Now, let's see how this tastes--" she said, picking up a cake shovel and cutting a slice off the cake, with a little crunching sound somewhere in-between. Bishop lifted a hand up defensively. "Uh, no, thank you," he said as Jean offered the slice to him. "I'm not hungry." Scott eagerly accepted the slice onto his plate, and grabbed a spoon, digging into the cake, shoveling it into his mouth. "Mmmm! This is good, honey! What did you put in this?" "Oh, this and that," Jean smiled. "Newt's eyes, bat's tongues, human hands, stuff like that." Bishop coughed a bit, and stood up, a lovely shade of brown and green. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go out and ... patrol." Jubilation Lee sighed and shook her head as she entered the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning with a backpack slung over her shoulder. "Bish," she said sternly, noticing the X-Man in question coming out of the kitchen. "You've been training again, haven't you?" "Hello, Jubilee," Bishop said, complimenting himself mentally over how deftly he avoided the question. "Welcome back, it has been a while." "Five years, and I --" Suddenly, a bunch of squeals and shouts and cries and wails permeated the lobby as a cloud of dust blasted in the door and tackled Bishop against a wall. "Hey, Uncle Bishop!" and variants of the phrase rang thru the air as an even dozen of kids from three to eight hung all over the massive warrior, off his ears, nose, goatee, one hand (the stump was deep in a pocket), nipples, and ... uhh... "HEY! YA LITTLE BRATS, I OUGHTA TAN YER HIDES--!" Jubilee shouted as she stumbled up from the foyer floor, brushing off her yellow trenchcoat and grumbling. "Oops!" one of the kids said, as the arm she was hanging from detached from its shoulder, and she fell onto her butt and got clobbered by the arm (which was larger than her) falling onto her. She started crying and wailing and doing all kinds of other stuff. Bishop blinked and looked at the detached arm as a little bit of panic started to swell within his gigantic chest. "Uhh..." he started nervously. Jubilee snickered as she came over and picked up the arm pinning the girl to the floor. "Wow, this looks really real, Bish. Didn't figure you for the prankster type. Nice o' ya to do that for 'em though, ain't it, kids?" she said, looking to the brats as she finished her sentence. Not that they noticed, they just kept climbing over and around Bishop, pretending he was a jungle gym. "Um, of course," Bishop replied and tried formulating escape plans from the Horde of Doom. "I ... uh ... have to go ... patrol," he said, and started backing away towards the front door, some of the kids falling off him and running over to Jubilee. "Sure thing, Bish. Hey, can the kids keep this fake arm thingy?" Bishop didn't answer as he quickly exited thru the front door. A cold sweat started covering Bishop's skin as he cowered on the floor of the black limousine in the garage, trying not to draw attention to himself. "THERE HE IS!" a kid-yell rang thru the air, quickly followed by at least half a dozen cheers that approached rapidly. Bishop kicked the door of the limousine off its hinges, and jumped out, then ran towards the back wall of the garage, crashing thru it and into the open air. "GOTCHA!" Bishop wheezed as fifty pounds of child fell onto him from the garage roof and knocked him down to the ground. He stumbled quickly up, his heart racing, and ran away. There was a little POP sound as the kid managed to grab Bishop's ankle, and the leg fell off as the X-Man ran away. He gasped, and gritted his teeth, jumping furiously forward on one leg, barely managing to outdistance the kid who had stumbled up and was running after him, followed by a cloud of dust raised by the rest of the children after him. Several hours later, the sun had set and the darkness had risen. Bishop was still on the loose, his survival skills having managed to help him evade the kids and hide from them. He waited until it was well past midnight, when Jubilee had to have put the kids to bed already, and then started carefully hopping towards the mansion from the woods surrounding it. As he got to the pool, he stopped and leaned against the wall, listening for any sounds from within the mansion. Fortunately, his heart and breathing had calmed down for the most part by now. He sneaked in the back door, thru the formal sitting room into the foyer. Quietly, he started hopping up the stairs, nervously glancing around to see if anyone would notice him. That's when his knee decided to give out. His remaining leg fell off from the knee downwards, and he thudded down onto the steps. He started sliding downwards with a thump-thump-thump sound, and tried to grab onto the steps with his remaining arm, but what with it being without a hand and fingers, it was kinda hard. He was thump-thump-thumping down along the stairs and a cold sweat broke on his forehead. He formulated a quick plan, and tried to grab a hold of the steps with his chin to halt his descent. That's when his jaw came off. "Aaa!" he said, his tongue flapping freely kinda like a flag or something with no jaw to hold it in place. But at least he wasn't sliding down the stairs anymore. He tried to get up, but with one leg fallen off at the hip, and another at the knee, he barely managed to get up on one knee. Unfortunately, underneath that knee was a red squishy thing that nobody had cleaned off the stairs during the day. One slip later, the rest of that remaining leg gave out too and fell off, clattering down the stairs to the foyer floor. Bishop managed to somehow valiantly maintain his balance for a few moments, but then, with an "UMPH!" type sound, his torso hit the steps underneath him, and the remaining arm came off, as did his head from the torso, the various parts following the thigh in tumbling down the steps to the foyer floor. There was a moment of silence. Several minutes, really, as Bishop's head pondered how to explain this to Scott. Then his eyes noticed two black forms moving in the shadows and his eyes widened. Frantically, he shouted, "Aa-a! Aa-a! A aa! A-aa!" It meant something along the lines of, 'Eeny! Meany! It's me! Bishop!' Evidently, the two matter-eating slugs didn't quite get the meaning behind Bishop's desperate vocalizations, though. Maggott wheezed as he managed to get the first third of the steps up towards the second floor, and leaned onto the bannister, catching his breath. "My, had good kos tonight, did you, girls?" he said, scritching Eeny slightly as the slug climbed around his neck and Meany curled around his leg. "You two haven't been in this good a mood in years..." That's when a large form showed up at the top of the stairs. "Morning," he gasped, slightly out of breath. "Hiya, Japheth," Guido Carosella grinned. "Ya having trouble getting upstairs?" -(main) - (biography) - (discussion) - (stories) - (pictures) - (links) - (updates)- |
