Disclaimer: Everybody featured in this
lil' clip is Marvel's. I get no money for my labors. Bobby's cassarole
will belong to whoever wishes to claim such a pathetic thing.
This came about from an email conversation among my RPGroup. It struck
us as so hilarious, some have asked me to include a scene similar
to it in my fan fiction, so I did a quick write-up, preparing it for
insertion in a future chapter somewhere. But then I remembered the
challenge... ::grin::
Archiving: Please ask first since this is a rough draft that's
going to end up in a larger work later. That's why this isn't titled.
The other stories in my Cable/Samantha series, where this story comes
from, are archived at Zanne's
Marvel Fan Fiction.
Hope y'all enjoy it...
Bobby's Casserole
by Zanne
Nathan headed into the kitchen, stepping around Hank and Bobby on
his way to the coffeemaker. He glanced back over his shoulder to see
the doctor gingerly prodding at a multi-colored ... something ...
on a plate with a fingertip.
"This is all very interesting, Robert, but what does it do?"
Hank asked.
"Do? It's not supposed to do anything," Iceman replied.
"You're supposed to eat it."
Nathan poured the coffee, chuckling at Hank's expression. The blue
mutant eyed the plate dubiously, then peered at Iceman. "You
are joking ... right?"
Nathan somehow managed not to spray coffee on the microwave as he
took a sip, seeing Bobby's expression.
"Please, tell me you're joking?" Hank asked hopefully.
Bobby shook his head, indignant.
"That's my great-grandmother's recipe!" he protested. He
glanced at Nathan.
"Cable, tell Hank what a moron he's being," Bobby said.
"C'mon, give it a try."
Nathan blinked, and glanced at Hank, who looked at him sympathetically.
"Uhh ... Robert ... over the years I learned one very important
fact of life," Nathan said, trying to keep a straight face as
he looked at the plate. Did that thing just move?
"Which is?" Bobby's face lit up seeing Domino walk in,
and held out the plate. "Domino, care to have a bite?"
"Never eat anything I can't readily identify," Nathan finished.
"It's a cassarole!" Bobby insisted, and the two X-Men jumped
slightly as Domino pulled a gun, aiming it at him -- or rather, the
plate.
"Should I put it out of its misery, Nate?" Domino asked,
looking at the mound Hank was inching around on the plate with a forefinger
skeptically.
"No!" Bobby protested, then yanked the plate away from
Hank. "Quit that!"
Hank sniffed his fingertip, grimaced, then put his arm around Bobby's
shoulders. "Why don't you do a good thing for science, dear boy?
Donate this to me. I'll put it in a petri dish. Perhaps we shall discover
a new life form, no?"
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