Disclaimer: Iceman, Beast, Angel, the X-Men, and the Gals are all property of Marvel, blah blah. No profit, blah blah. Please don't sue, blah blah.

Note: Ah, the long-awaited and much-sought after Chapter 8. Um, I ran out of plot about 3 paragraphs in, so I filled in the other 27 and a half pages with song-and-dance numbers. Also features the reappearance of Bobby Drake and his X-Girlfriends: the Band.

I apologize if this chapter gives anyone nightmares.

The Super-Uncanny Adventures of Bobby and His Amazing X-Girlfriends
by ValKerrie

Chapter 8: The Hills are Alive with Something, All Right

"MOLYBDENUM?" Zelda repeated. "Honestly, what a lame superpower."

"You don't even have one," Opal informed her coolly.

"Yeah, well, no superpower is better than molybdenum. I bet you don't even know anything about molybdenum."

"It's a metal. It's an ELEMENT."

"Oh, yeah? Atomic number?"

"Umm..."

"FORTY-TWO!"

"Why do you know the atomic number of molybdenum?" Lev asked, arching an eyebrow.

Zelda shrugged. "It's forty-two. I had a friend in graduate school who was convinced that molybdenum held all the secrets of the universe."

"Um ... what if it does?"

Everyone shut up for a moment.

Opal tried to cackle. "BWAHAHAHAHEEHEE*snort*HEE--"

Zelda frowned. "Hey, um, Marge, does molybdenum hold--"

"No."

"See! Pbbt!"

"Enough of this foolishness! The Riveter is coming with us!" Opal commanded.

Then Meryl hit her over the head with one of the shattered-off legs of her walker.

"Expeditious retreat?" the Boxer suggested to Hoover. Rainbow had already jumped out the window into the pool after Lev set her hair on fire.

"Yep."

"GUYS! Wait for MEEEEE!" ArtiChoke wailed, running out of the kitchen.

Bobby and his ex-girlfriends stared at each other.

"Well, that was easy," Bobby commented, scratching his head. "Meryl, are you okay?"

"Right as rain," Meryl replied, nudging Opal's prone body with one orthopedic-shoed foot. "Isn't this the chippy that got killed at the picnic?"

"Just when we had the closet cleaned out!" Marge groaned.

Hank McCoy was dreaming.

Rather heavily, in fact.

In his dream, he was drinking.

Rather heavily, in fact.

Warren was sitting next to him, and kept accidentally elbowing him or knocking his beer over or gesturing a little too wildly and waving his hands in Hank's face.

It was getting annoying.

Not nearly as annoying as Scott's singing, though.

Apparently, it was Karaoke Night, and Scott Summers was having the time of his life. He was dressed like John Travolta from Saturday Night Fever and was belting the Proclaimers' "Oh, Jean" into the microphone.

Hank buried his head in his paws when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey," Bobby said.

"JEAN! Oh, JEAN! You let me get lucky with you!" Scott bellowed from the stage.

"What's up, Bobby?" Hank asked, rescuing his beer from Warren's gesticulations.

"I'm glad you could make it," Bobby said, cocking his head to the side slightly. "I know you're busy."

"I'm never too busy for my best friend."

"I LOVE her, I LOVE her, I LOVE her, I LOVE her--"

"Apparently, neither is Scott."

"I'm burying 'Sunshine on Leith' as soon as we get home."

"Good call."

Bobby sat down at the bar next to him, and ordered a beer. "I can't believe this is happening."

"What's happening?"

Bobby threw his hands into the air. "This! Me, Trish, everything!"

"...I want you forever, I want you for good, so I'm gonna treat you the way that I should," Scott warbled drunkenly.

"Trish? Trish Tilby?" Hank asked leaning forward.

"Yeah, you know. My FIANCEE?" Bobby said.

"Your fiancee? All that ice has finally addled your brain, my young friend."

"Me? Hank, you're at my bachelor party. Get with it."

"You ... you're serious? When did this happen?"

"Well, after Opal died, I figured it was time to get serious. And then Trish called up, asking what happened, and we went out for drinks, and one thing led to another and--"

"But she's MY girlfriend!"

"Since when, Hank? You guys broke up ages ago."

"But -- but -- but you hate Trish!"

"YOU LET ME GET LUCKY WITH YOU!"

Bobby shrugged.

"All in the past."

"You called her a skanky ho-muffin with a bad perm! You called her twelve pounds of suck in a ten pound bag--"

"Hank, everything's different now. I remember the talk we had just after Opal died. You told me to stop taking responsibility for the things in my life that weren't my concern. I stopped hanging out with the girls across the hall, and started concentrating on me. I'm up for a vice-presidency at the firm, and I'm marrying the woman I love. I couldn't be happier. For the first time in my life, I'm concentrating on Bobby Drake, not Iceman. For the first time in my life, I'm really happy."

"But -- but--" Hank stuttered.

"JEEEEEEAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNN!!"

Warren was also dreaming.

But in his dream, he was a God.

A Disco God.

"--remember my name!
FAME!
I'm gonna live forever.
I'm gonna learn how to fly-- HIGH!"

Warren shimmied and shuffled, his silver-spangled jumpsuit glittering under the lights and the disco ball. His giant afro bounced gently in time to the beat.

"--people will see me and cry.
FAME!
I'm gonna make it to Heaven..."

The faint of heart swooned in the wake of his powder-blue platforms.

Women wanted him.

Men wanted to be him.

"...remember, remember, remember, remember, remember..."

Suddenly, the landscape shifted, and he was in front of a giant fountain. Warren leapt in the air, and was frozen for a beautiful eternity.

"FAME!!!"

Bobby raised one eyebrow, and glared down at his still-sleeping friends. Warren and Hank both lay on the couch, each with his head on one arm of the sofa. Hank was curled up in a rather small ball (for him), whereas Warren's legs were stretched out and generally invading Hank's personal space.

"AHEM," Bobby said.

Nothing.

"We're under attack!"

Nothing.

"FIRE!"

Nothing.

"Rogue, oh my Lord, put on some clothes!"

The two blue ex-Champions immediately began to stir.

"... jeaaaaaannnnnn..." Hank managed.

"...I's young, I's single, and I loves to mingle..." Warren grunted.

"GET UP!" Bobby shouted, kicking the couch.

"Huh, whu?" Hank asked, pulling Warren's foot off his face.

"You want the good news or the bad news?" Bobby asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Does the good news involve sleep?" Warren asked.

"She's alive."

Hank blinked. "Opal?"

Nod.

"That's wonderful, Bobby! Superb, even." His brow furrowed. "What's the bad news?"

Bobby just smirked.

"YOU WILL RUE THE DAY YOU INCARCERATED OPAL TANAKA, MISTRESS OF MOLYBDENUM!"

Lev rubbed at one ear irritably. "We can hear you just fine. You don't need to shout."

"Baron von Slaughter shall make you all pay for your transgressions! OHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!"

"Ouch," Cloud winced. "No more maniacal laughter? Please?"

"Don't we have any ... I don't know. Illegal substances to knock her out?"

"I think Bobby still has some of that potato salad."

The door opened, and Bobby walked in, followed by a sleepy-looking Hank and Warren.

"BOBBY, DARLING!" Opal squealed. "Oh, I see how you've been trapped into these vicious harridans! But you'll save me from this horrible fate, won't you, SWEETUMS?"

Warren made a face. "My God ... thigh boots?"

"We can't untie her, and we aren't about to change her clothes," Zelda shrugged. "The leotard isn't too flattering, either."

"THE MISTRESS OF MOLYBDENUM IS OF PERFECT STATURE, HEATHENS!"

"Do I ... sound like that?" Marge asked hesitantly.

The girls contemplated this for a second.

"Nah. It's kinda cool when you do it," Cloud decided.

"Yeah," Zel agreed. "I mean, you can back up your threat. When you tell us not to mess with the Daughter of Oblivion, it's because you can melt our eyeballs if you want to. She just has a creepy affinity for some high-strength, low-toughness metal with a high melting point and a body-centered cubic crystal structure."

"BAD PANTS!" Lev yelled.

"Lev's been awake too long," Cloud apologized.

"What seems to be Ms. Tanaka's ailment, besides her recent state of non-sentience?"

Bobby scratched his head. "Well, according to Meryl, Count Slaughter has this ability to give people superpowers, but they kinda turn into his loyal slaves. But if you keep them out of, like, a 2 miles range of him for long enough, they go back to normal. Well, the loyal slave thing anyway. The superpowers stay."

"Wait, she's a mutant now?" Warren asked. "Can we pass her off on Gen X?"

"That'd be cool!" Zelda announced.

Bobby shrugged. "Well, at the moment, we have to keep an eye on her until the thrall thing wears off."

"Why did we need to be woken up, again?" Warren grumbled, visions of legwarmers still dancing in his head.

"Because it's gonna take a coupla days for this to wear off, and she's gonna scream like Moira at the Highland Games until it does, so we're moving her to my apartment so the girls can get some sleep," Bobby explained.

"Hold on," Warren said. "What about my sleep? I need some sleep. I don't want her screaming like Moira at the Highland Games in the same apartment where my sleep is."

"That's why the girls have graciously offered you guys their couch. So be gracious," Bobby ordered. "That's why we woke you up in the first place." He scratched his head. "Besides. She's kinda heavy, and, Hank, we were wondering..."

"Ooooh, but Bobby Darling, I'm sure, with your rippling muscles and mighty thews, you could easily--"

"Did she just say 'mighty thews'? Who says 'mighty thews'?"

"Got it," Hank mumbled, picking up the chair Opal was tied to, and carrying it across the hall.

"Bobby!!! Bobby Darling, don't let them treat me like this! Sweet little Opal, light of your life?"

"Those ropes look pretty strong..." Bobby said hopefully. "Are you sure we need someone to watch her all night?"

"Get out of here, Popsicle."

The lights were low.

He was alone.

The Riveter would soon be in his clutches.

It was Baron von Slaughter's time to shine.

"To bed, to bed, I couldn't get to bed!
My head's too light to put it down!
To sleep, to sleep, I couldn't sleep tonight!
Not for all the jewels in the crown!"

He sashayed across the room.

"I could have danced all night!
I could have danced all night!
And still have begged for more!"

He leapt up on his Evil Chair, and flung his arms wide.

"I could have spread my wings!
And done a thousand things...
I've never done before."

The Baron didn't even notice his remaining four Slaughterettes as they walked into the room, and stopped dead.

"I'll never know what made it so exciting!"

"Boss?"

"Why, all at once, my heart took flight!"

"Boss!"

"I only know, when he ... began to dance with me..."

"BOSS!"

Slaughter blinked, then looked down at the Boxer, who was staring at him, rather disgustedly.

"You should knock louder."

"Believe me, in the future, I will."

The Baron took a moment to compose himself, then sat back down in his Evil Chair. "Let's start again. Go out."

The Boxer rolled her eyes, and walked out of the room again, dragging the other three with her.

Knock. Knock.

"Not now, I'm meditating!"

Pause.

Knock. Knock. "You done meditating yet?"

He contemplated this. "Yes, yes, I believe I am. You may enter."

The Boxer walked back in, Rainbow, Hoover and ArtiChoke on her heels.

"Where's the Riveter? And what happened to my other Slaughterette? The cute one. Did she have a name?"

"Iceman and the Angels showed up," Rainbow broke in. "They set my hair on fire. Again."

"But ... but you got the Riveter?"

"She hit Opal over the head with her walker. We ran away," the Boxer shrugged.

"Well, we need to get her back!"

"Boooosssssss ... it's ... like ... three in the morning ... don't make us go baaaaaaaaaaaaaackkk..." Rainbow whined.

"If they killed Opal, can I have her thigh boots?" ArtiChoke begged.

Baron von Slaughter shuddered. "Merciful Lord, no." He sighed. "Fine. Go to bed. But you attack first thing in the morning, got me? 8 am!"

"Sure thing, Boss," the Boxer shrugged. "I'm going to bed. And by the way ... nice feather boa."

"You never saw it," Baron von Slaughter informed her.

Bobby Drake was one tired man.

He wasn't entirely sure what had possessed him to volunteer to stay up with his psycho hose-beast ex-girlfriend all night.

Actually, he did.

It was the fact that there were four very cute girls next door. Individually, he was a sucker for each and every one of them. Under their combined puppy eyes, he'd willingly lick dirt, get tetanus shots and watch Jane Austen films. Simultaneously, if necessary.

Unfortunately, none of them ever professed their undying love and devotion for him.

No.

That was left up the psycho hose-beast girlfriend.

"Oh, Bobby Darling, if you'd only untie me, we could run off together ... We could go to ... Tahiti! And be happy! And I'd wear a bikini."

"Don't ever put that thought in my head again, and you've got a deal."

"Oh, Sweetie Butter-Poops, wouldn't you do just this teensy little favor for your Opal-licious?"

"Nope."

"My hands are numb."

"So's my brain."

"If you could just untie..."

"Nope."

"Well, Nummy Lumpkins, I was thinking--"

"Nothing in this apartment is made of molybdenum. Don't even try it."

"But my little Pumpkin Pants, don't you remember what we HAD?"

"I certainly don't recall you ever calling me 'little Pumpkin Pants.' "

Opal sniffled and looked down at her knees.

"No. If I untie you, you're going to hit me over the head and run back to Baron von Slaughter. I'm not sure why that's a bad thing, but I promised the girls I wouldn't."

"Bobby. Sugar-Muffin."

Bobby's eyes widened.

He suddenly realized what was coming.

What Opal always did when she wanted something.

It was insidious.

He was defenseless against it.

Looking up at him through her lashes, she broke into song.

"I wake up in the morning with the new sunrise..."

"NO! STOP it! It won't work anymore!"

"I look at my Bobby, sleeping still, inside I cry..."

"THAT'S NOT THE WAY THE SONG GOES!"

"Then my Bobby tells me... He won't be home 'til late.
There's so much work, he'll have to stay behind.
But I know it isn't work that's on his mind.
But still, he'd never leave me..."

"No... no... noooo..." Bobby wailed, holding his head in his hands.

"...Cuz, what would the children think?
Where would the children go?
What would the children do?
If they knew the way it was...
But they'll never learn because...
What would would the children think?
Where would the children go?"

"THE CHILDREN WOULD GO NOWHERE! THERE ARE NO CHILDREN!"

"At the gate, I kiss him and watch his walk,
Hoping this small charade will stop the neighbor's talk.
I turn to hide a tear inside my gilded cage...
I cry for the love I could not hold...
And lost to someone half my age!"

"Oh, like I was the one making eyes at the cyborg poet! The EVIL cyborg poet!"

"But I value what I got ... a little more.
Two kids, one nine and one nearly four.
And I would never leeeeeeeeave them!"

"Oh, this is just disgusting."

"Cuz, what would the children think?
Where would the children go?"

Bobby crossed his arms angrily.

He couldn't fight it. Unless ... unless...

Bobby cleared his throat. There was just one musical duo capable of overpowering the painful ballads of Rick Springfield.

Well, there was always Duran Duran, but he didn't think "Electric Barbarella would help his cause.

"Easy, ready, willing, overtime...
Where does it stop, where do you dare me to draw the line?"

Opal blinked. "What would ... the children think?"

"You've got the body, now you want the soul.
Don't even think about it-- say 'no go.'"

"N-no..." Opal mumbled.

"IIII... I-I-IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" Bobby wailed. "I'll do anything
That you want me tooo-ooo-ooo!
Yeah, Iiii-Iiii-Ii-Iiiiii'll do almost anything
That you want me tooo-ooo-ooo...
But I can't go for that (no can do).
No, I can't go for that (no can do.)"

"No FAIR using Hall and Oates!"

"Can't go for that ... can't go for that ... can't go for that..."

Bobby leapt up on the couch, and started using the television remote control as a microphone.

"I can go for being twice as nice,
I can go for repeating the same old lines.
Use the body, now you want my soul...
Oooooh, forget about it, now say 'no go.'"

He whipped his head back. "Iiiiiiiiiiiiiii-iiiiii-iiii-ii-IIIIIIII... I'll do anything, that you want me tooooo-ooooo-oooo..."

"Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..."

Bobby blinked as a loud, snorty snore interrupted his imitation of Daryl Hall (or perhaps John Oates, he wasn't sure which was which).

Opal's head hung back, and a little stream of drool seemed to be trickling out her mouth. A few nasal snorts and some whistling followed.

Though it vaguely resembled some sort of epileptic seizure in a normal person, Bobby was fairly certain that Opal was just sleeping.

"Huh," he said, sitting back down on the couch. "The nerve. Right before the sax solo, too."

"Your feet are in my face, Hank."

"Oh, like your wings aren't taking up half the couch."

"Yeah, well, my wings don't stink."

"I assure you that my feet do NOT--"

"Yes. Yes, they do."

"You know, I had the strangest dream earlier..."

"About your feet stinking?"

"They DO NOT! No, I dreamt that Bobby was getting married and we were at his bachelor party, and Scott was singing..."

"That's funny."

"It really was. He was singing in a bad Scottish accent, no less."

"No, not Scott singing. I was just remembering that I had this awesome dream before Bobby woke us up. I was singing 'Fame' and wearing this ... leisure suit. I was a God. I was a Disco God."

"'Fame' isn't a disco song, Warren."

"I don't care. I ruled."

"Good night, Warren."

"You feet still stink, Hank."

Marge, Daughter of Oblivion, lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, humming quietly to herself.

She glanced over at the other bed, where Cloud appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

Marge bobbed her head a little.

Couldn't get the damn song out of her head.

She started doing a little dance in her bed.

It totally wasn't helping.

Suddenly, Cloud grunted and sat up.

"I gotta condense," she mumbled, and stumbled off to the bathroom.

Marge waited until the door was completely closed.

"We can go when we want to
Night is young and so am I
And we can dress real neat from our hats to our feet
And surprise them with a victory cry."

She jumped out of bed, and started dancing.

"Say, we can act if we want to
If we don't nobody will
And you can act real rude and totally removed
And I can act like an imbecile."

And then she broke into the hand motions.

"S-S-S-S! A-A-A-A! F-F-F-F! E-E-E-E! T-T-T-T! Y-Y--!"

And then Cloud walked back in.

Marge froze.

Cloud looked hurt. "You were doing the Safety Dance without me?"

"I had an urge." Marge confessed. "It's gone now."

Cloud sniffed. "Okay. But next time, tell me."

Approximately four hours later...

Zelda's eyes snapped open.

She glanced at the alarm clock -- 8:00 am. And it wasn't set to go off until 9. Something was horribly wrong with this picture.

Zelda sat up and glanced at her roommate, who was curled up in the corner of her bed, clutching at her pillow and mumbling something about "death points" in her sleep.

Zelda frowned as she heard faint sounds coming from the kitchen.

Odd.

It wasn't like Cloud or Marge to be up this early, let alone cooking.

But if it was Cloud, and she was in the kitchen, it meant one thing.

Food.

If it was Marge, and she was in the kitchen, it meant one thing.

The kitchen was about to be destroyed.

Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, Zelda decided to Investigate, entirely forgetting to turn off the alarm clock. This is important later.

Anyway, as she opened the door, she realized the noises were less "Making yummy food for Zelda to eat" noises and more ... singing.

Male singing.

Zelda did what any smart, cautious young woman would do upon realizing that a strange male was singing in her kitchen.

She grabbed the cordless drill.

"I think I'm so educated and I'm so civilized
'Cos I'm a strict vegetarian
But with the over-population and inflation and starvation
And the crazy politicians..."

Zelda frowned. "No one invades my apartment and sings bad Kinks songs..."

"I don't feel safe in this world no more
I don't want to die in a nuclear war
I want to sail away to a distant shore and make like an ape man."

Zelda stuck her head around the corner.

"No ... way."

"I'm an ape man, I'm an ape ape man
I'm an ape man, I'm a King Kong man, I'm ape ape man
I'm an ape man."

Henry McCoy, respected physicist, biologist and generally furry blue guy was dancing around her kitchen, flipping pancakes and singing "Ape Man."

Zelda wasn't sure if running for the video camera would be worth missing any of this.

She vaguely remembered agreeing to let him and Warren spend the night on the couch -- a vague, sleepy memory that had merged together with a rather strange dream about Opal getting into a fight with Mama from "Mama's Family." Which, she supposed, gave Hank legitimate reason to be in her kitchen.

It did not give him legitimate reason, however, to be singing "Ape Man," at 7:13, or any other time of the morning.

Hank, however, was completely oblivious to the fact that he was being watched.

He knew that there was Bisquick and Aunt Jemima in the cupboard, and he was in his own personal pancake Nirvana.

"In man's evolution he has created the cities
and the motor traffic rumble,
But give me half a chance,
and I'd be taking off my clothes and living in the jungle."

Hank shook his groove thing as he mixed together batter. The girls had a pretty nice kitchen -- nicer than Bobby's anyway. Plus, none of Bobby's girls were early risers, which left him free to prance about the kitchen.

Hank had a secret passion for prancing.

"Come and love me, be my ape man girl
And we will be so happy in my ape man world."

Hank flipped his pancakes into the air, and managed to catch them in the pan around his back. He'd been practicing.

"I'm an ape man, I'm an ape ape man, I'm an ape man
I'm a King Kong man, I'm a voodoo man
I'm an ape man
I'll be your Tarzan, you'll be my Jane
I'll keep you warm and you'll keep me sane
and we'll sit in the trees and eat bananas all day
Just like an--"

Vrrrr-VRRRRRRRROOOOOOMMM!

"--ape man?"

Zelda stood in the doorway, revving her drill, and looking smug.

"You'll be my Tarzan and I'll be your Jane, huh?"

Hank's cheeks promptly flamed red. Which created a rather nifty purple effect under the blue fur. A drippy, half-cooked pancake hit the floor.

"Er, Miss Lincoln, I ... uh ... didn't see you..."

"It's Dr. Lincoln," she replied, setting the drill down on the table.

"I, er, didn't mean to wake you, um..."

Zelda raised one eyebrow. "Hey. You woke me up. No biggie. You make me think there was a psycho in my apartment. No problem. You made me stalk you with a drill. I can deal. You know why?"

"Why?" Hank asked weakly.

"Because I have the world's greatest blackmail material on you, and you're going to start working it off by giving me pancakes."

Hank breathed out a huge sigh of relief, believing that he'd gotten off easy.

He obviously didn't know Zelda very well.

Lev was dreaming.

Or more accurately, it was a nightmare.

All she knew was that she was in a high school, she was in a poodle skirt, and her mascara was running.

For someone who had been on Earth such a short time, Lev had seen entirely too many films titled things like "Platimum High School," and "Teenage Drifter."

"Is she really going out with him?" Cloud, who was also wearing a poodle skirt, asked.

"Well, there she is, let's ask her!" Zelda said. "Lev? Is that Bobby's ring you're wearing?"

"Uh-huh," Lev sobbed.

"Wow, it must be great riding with him!" Marge exclaimed. She wearing a rather frightening pair of hot pants and a little fluffy scarf around her neck. "Is he picking you up after school?"

Lev sniffed. "Uh-uh."

"Where'd you meet him, by the way?"

And then, Lev couldn't help herself. The grief was too raw. She had to sing.

"I met him at the candy store,
He turned around and smiled at me--
You get the picture?"

"Yes, we see!" Marge, Zelda and Cloud chorused.

"That's when I fell for...
the Leader of the Pack."

And then the mysterious sound of a motorcycle revving filled the hallways. Lev glanced around frantically, but the others didn't seem to notice it.

"My folks were always putting him down."

"Down! Down!" the girls chorused.

"They said he came from...
The Wrong Side of Town."

"Whatcha mean when you say the Wrong Side of Town?"

"They told me he was bad,
But I knew he was sad,
That's why I fell for...
Leader of the Pack."
Damn that motorcycle sound!

"One day, my dad said to find someone new,
I had to tell my Bobby we were through."

"Whatcha mean when ya say that ya better go find somebody new?"

"He stood there and asked me why
But all I could do was cry
I'm sorry I hurt you, SNIFF!
Leader of the Pack!"

Lev pulled a hanky out of her pocket, and as she dabbed at her tears, she spoke dramatically.

"He sort of smiled and kissed me goodbye. The tears were beginning to show. As he drove away on that rainy night, I begged him to go slow."

Her eyes took on a faraway look.

"But whether he heard, I'll never know. Look out! Look out! Look out! Look out!"

The other girls were staring at her like she was a lunatic. Quickly, she cleared her throat, and started singing again.

"I felt so helpless, what could I do?
Remembering all the things we'd been through
In school they all stop and stare
I can't hide the tears, but I don't care
I'll never forget him...
Leader of the Pack..."

Suddenly, Lev hit the ground with a thump.

The ground ... next to her bed.

She barely heard the DJ on the radio mumbling, "That was the Shangri-Las, with--" as she stumbled out of the room, breaking into a run. She dashed right past Hank and Zelda in the kitchen, through the door and across the hall.

Bobby was sleeping rather peacefully on his couch.

At least he was until Lev slammed into his apartment, screamed "BOBBY!" and started hitting him with a throw pillow.

"What?" Bobby managed testily.

"Did you die in a fiery motorcycle crash in the rain after I TOLD you to go slow?" she demanded.

He furrowed his brow. "I don't ... think so."

"Oh." She frowned, and put the pillow back on the couch. "Okay, then."

Then she walked back to her apartment, got in bed, and went back to sleep.

Meanwhile, in a nearby dark and mysterious underground lair...

Mr. Sinister strolled through his lab, sipping his coffee peacefully.

He was still wearing his bathrobe -- the one with the big fringy cape attached. He adored that bathrobe.

He loved when the Marauders were out on an extended mission.

His eyes fell upon the gleaming new stainless-steel cylinder adorning his laboratory. The CloneTub 6061 -- it had cost a pretty penny, but it was worth it. It even had a fun viewing window, much like the EasyMutate Oven he'd tried to market to Kenner once.

Sinister smiled wickedly as he contemplated his latest evil plan.

Someone cued the flutes.

"Havin' my baby...
What a lovely way of sayin' how much you love me."

Sinister ran one hand sensually down the side of the vat.

"Havin' my baby,
What a lovely way of sayin' you're thinkin' of me.
I can see it, your ... window is glowing
I can see it in your dials
I'm happy in knowin'
That you're having my baby."

And then he realized that the CloneTub 6061 wasn't about to sing the woman's part.

"Ahem. You're, uh, doing fine," he replied, continuing his stroll through the lab.

After all, Rosie O'Donnell was on in thirty minutes.

Back in Port Jefferson!

"I still say it's way too early for this," Rainbow grumbled.

"You're telling me," the Boxer agreed, trying to flatten down her tangled hair.

"Yeah, Baron von Slaughter's a slave driver!" ArtiChoke tried to break in. "We should strike. Demand higher--"

"Shut up, Arty," Rainbow frowned.

Hoover snickered.

"Well, I guess we'd better get it over with," the Boxer sighed, knocking on the door.

A minute or so elapsed before the door was opened by a rather dazed and unshaven Iceman.

He was wearing a "Lionel Ritchie, UNPLUGGED!" t-shirt and a pair of ratty sweatpants with the words "ELVHS Royals" down the side. He seemed to be staring rather disconsolately into a box of Captain Crunch.

"Ruuughn?" he managed, squinting at them.

"Hey, you're kinda hot when you're scruffy-looking," the Boxer managed before Rainbow kicked her. "Uh, hey, it's us, again. We want our teammate back."

Bobby put the cereal box down. "Do we have to do this so early in the morning?"

The Boxer sighed. "Yeah. We didn't want to either, but BVS said we had to."

"'BVS'? He lets you call him that? Don't you ever get tempted to call him 'BVD'?"

"Yeah, kinda. Hey, can we have Opal back or not?"

"Kipper-Buns? Who's at the door?"

Bobby winced. "You know, you girls are putting me in a really difficult situation here. I mean, I'd like to give her back. I'd REALLY like to give her back. And I'm fairly certain that she'd like to go back, too. But on the other hand, she's brainwashed, and I'm pretty sure that morally, I can't just let evil dudes brainwash my friends into being bad guys. Even if I don't like them. The friends that is, not the evil dude."

"Huh?" asked Rainbow.

"Good guy code. Can't let you have her."

The Boxer sighed. "Look, man, I really don't wanna do this now, but I'm gonna have to beat the crap out of you now. The boss REALLY wants her back. He thinks she's cute."

"Tapioca Toes?! Is that the Slaughterettes? Do they have any molybdenum?"

Bobby clutched his forehead painfully. "Can't ... let ... bad guys ... ZELDA!!!"

There was some irritated stomping from across the hall, and Zelda's spiky-haired head protruded into the hallway. "I was about to get pancakes. What?"

Bobby pointed.

"Oh. What do they want?"

"We want our teammate back. Then we're going downstairs to get the old bag, and then we're outtie," Rainbow explained irritably. "Hey, we'll trade Arty for her, does that work?"

Bobby considered it.

"We don't want her, either," Zelda reminded him.

"PUPPY-FACE! LET ME OUT!"

Bobby gestured expressively towards his apartment.

Zelda shrugged. "Hey, the Opal thing's your call. We don't want her. But, I definitely don't know about that stealing Meryl business. That sounds shady to me."

Bobby frowned. "Yeah, we're definitely saying no on that one."

"Hey, look, we're bad guys. You don't get options."

Bobby ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, I guess if we have to beat you up anyway, we might as well beat you up for the whole wad. We'll keep the Panted Menace."

Zelda sighed. "Does this mean I need to go get the robot? Because I'm eating pancakes, right now."

"Pancakes?" ArtiChoke asked wistfully.

"Shut up," the Boxer growled. Her face suddenly softened. "Pancakes?"

"Hank made them."

"Is he married?"

"I'm going back to bed," Bobby grumbled.

"You are not," the Boxer replied, grabbing him by the front of his shirt.

"Hey, get off," Bobby grumbled. "Look, isn't there some way to resolve this without me getting beat up?"

"We could have a challenge!" Cloud chirped, sticking her head out the door.

"What kinda challenge?" Rainbow asked, snapping her gum.

"Ummm..."

"A musical challenge!" Marge put in, her head appearing below Cloud's.

A fourth face appeared in the doorway. "A DISCO challenge!" Warren hooted.

"Where are you guys all coming from?" Bobby frowned, scratching his head.

"So what's in this for us?" the Boxer frowned.

"We win, you leave us alone. You win, you get Opal, Meryl, and pancakes," Zelda shrugged.

ArtiChoke poked the Boxer in the shoulder insistantly. "But what if we lose? The Baron will be really, really upset, and he's gonna--"

"No disco, and you're on," the Boxer nodded tersely.

"Deal. One hour. The auditorium downstairs," Zelda replied, and the girls shook hands.

"What are we going to do for judges?"

"Hmm. I don't suppose you'd accept any of our friends, and we certainly wouldn't accept any of your friends..."

"Hey, where do you girls get those boots, anyway?" Warren put in.

"How about him?" Rainbow suggested.

"Me?"

"Agreed."

"I'm going back to bed," Bobby yawned.

"OH, NO, YOU'RE NOT!"

Twenty minutes later, and three floors lower...

Meryl Putterman-Reilly-Schlazanski-Mueller-O'Hanrahan clutched her pillow around her head.

"Corky, just bring me my damn orange juice! You don't need to make a production number out of it!"

"...I'll never know what made it so exciting!
Why, all at once, my heart took flight!"

Meryl groaned.

Suddenly, there was a sharp rap at the door.

"I got it!" Chad chirped.

"Hi, Chad, is Meryl around?" Bobby Drake's voice drifted through the apartment.

"I'm here! Come save me from Audrey Hepburn here."

Chad snorted derisively, and Bobby stuck his head into Meryl's room.

"Hi, Mrs. Reilly-Putterman ... Miller ... O'Flanagan..."

"For the love o' Minnie Pearl, just call me Meryl, kid. What's on your mind? This isn't about last night, is it?"

"Kinda," Bobby frowned.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I can usually take care of myself. Outta practice, I guess."

"No ... no, it's not that." Bobby sighed. "Um, the, uh, Slaughterettes showed up again this morning, demanding Opal back, and um, you as a hostage."

"Well, I'm still here, so I'm guessing you and your ladies sent the little chickenhawks packing?"

Bobby scratched his head. "Um, I was kinda half-asleep at the time, and I kinda let the girls make the negotiations..."

Meryl raised one eyebrow.

"They're having a singing contest. In forty minutes."

"What? How could you do this to an old lady?"

"I'm sorry!" Bobby yelped, holding up his hands. "Look, Warren's judging, and there's really no way that I'd let them take you and--"

"Not that, you hoser. There's a singing contest going down, and you only give me forty minutes to whip my team into shape? Look, Drake, you're lucky I'm a miracle worker, because that's what your girls are gonna need. CHAD! WHERE ARE MY ORTHOPEDIC SHOES?"

The time?
Forty minutes later.

The place?
The Sunny Oaks Luxury Villas for the Aged Auditorium.

The audience?
Mr. and Mrs. Mellipoulos, Chad W. Pinkerton, Henry McCoy, one tied-and-gagged Opal Tanaka, one Robert L. Drake who had been banished from his own team, and one Meryl Putterman-Reilly-Schlazanski-Mueller-O'Hanrahan who was fidgeting like a defected-Romanian gymnastics coach.

The judge?
Warren Worthington, sitting cozily in his chair with a large tub of popcorn.

The prize?
One large stack of pancakes, courtesy of Hank. Not the mention the aforementioned hogtied Opal Tanaka and Meryl Putterman-Reilly-Schlazanski-Mueller-O'Hanrahan.

And the competition?
Fierce.

Zelda stuck her head out from behind the curtain. "How are you guys doing out here? We're ready."

Meryl raised one eyebrow, and Zelda gave her a wink.

"Go for it!" Warren whooped.

"I'm going to regret letting them do this, aren't I?" Bobby sighed.

"Indubitably," Hank shrugged.

Opal screamed something about her "sweet Poodle Lips" from behind her gag.

And then the curtain opened to reveal Bobby Drake's Amazing X-Girlfriends: The Band.

The girls were dressed in matching lime green miniskirts and white go-go boots.

Bobby got the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that they had been waiting their entire lives for this moment.

"San Dimas High School Football RULEZ!" Zelda screamed.

Then Marge struck up a beat on the drums, and Lev started jamming on her electric guitar.

"Uh-huh..." Cloud sang. "I dig it..."

Bobby's eyes widened.

Because he'd spent most of 1989 singing this particular song, much to the rabid irritation of Hank, Jean, Warren, and ESPECIALLY Scott.

It was his theme song. Well, his self-proclaimed theme song, anyway.

"Cold coolin' at a bar, and I'm lookin' for some action
But like Mick Jagger said, 'I can't get no satisfaction'
The guys are all around, but none of them want to get with me
My threads are fresh and I'm looking def
Yo, what's up with C-L-O-U-D?
The guys I saw jokin' at the other end of the bar
Havin' drinks with some no-name slut
When they know that I'm the star
So I got up and strolled over to the other side of the cantina
I asked the gal, 'Why you so fly?'
She said, 'Funky Cold Medina.'"

Hank looked at Bobby. "Somehow, this song is about ten to the sixteenth power less annoying when it's sung by a cute girl, as opposed to ... you."

"Shut up, Hank."

"This sistah told me a secret on how to get more d--"

Bobby's eyes widened. "That's not how the song goes! It's 'chicks'! CHICKS!"

"Put a little Medina in your glass
And the guys will come real quick
It's better than any alcohol or aphrodisiac
A couple of sips of this love potion and he'll be on your lap
So I gave some to my dog, when he began to beg
Then he licked his bowl and he looked at me
And did the Wild Thing on my leg
He used to scratch and bite me
Before he was much, much meaner
But now all the poodles run to my house
For the Funky Cold Medina."

"Break it down!"

Cloud bobbed her head during the instrumental portion.

"Why are you ex-girlfriends so much cooler than ours?" Warren hissed over to Bobby.

"Cuz I got Funky Cold Medina," Bobby replied smarmily.

"Back in the saddle, lookin' for a little affection
I took a shot as a contestant on the Love Connection
The audience voted and you know they picked a winner
I took my date to the Hilton for Medina and some dinner
He had a few drinks, I'm thinkin' soon what I'll be gettin'
Instead he started talkin' about plans for a weddin'
Said wait, slow down, love, not so fast, says 'I'll be seein' ya'
That's why I found you don't play around
With the Funky Cold Medina."

"WOOOOOOOOO!" Meryl hooted, standing up and whistling loudly.

Mrs. Mellipoulos was looking a little scandalized, but Mr. M was applauding enthusiastically along with Bobby, Hank and Warren.

Chad just looked confused.

Opal was trying to chew through her gag.

Cloud blushed, and managed a little curtsy.

Marge waved her drumsticks enthusiastically.

"Judge?" Hank asked.

"They get..." Warren squeezed his eyes shut, obviously thinking hard. "Nine out of ten for musical ability, nine out of ten for attitude, and a big ten out of ten on the hottie scale!"

"YAH!" the girls squealed.

"Hey!" Bobby protested. "I used to date them!"

"You have decent taste. They obviously don't, but you do," Warren shrugged.

The girls gathered up their things, and hopped off the stage, so they could watch the competition.

From the wings, the Slaughterettes marched on stage.

The Boxer carried a guitar.

Hoover sat down at the drumset.

Rainbow situated herself at the microphone.

ArtiChoke seemed to be wielding a cowbell.

The cold grip of fear curled around Bobby's spine.

It was almost like an IPODD.

The Boxer struck up a heavy, galloping rhythm on the guitar, Hoover backing her up.

ArtiChoke gyrated wildly, completely abusing her cowbell privileges.

Rainbow cleared her throat.

"So this ain't the end - I saw you agaaaaaaaaain, today
I had to turn my heart away
Smile like the sun - kisses for eeeeeeeeeeveryone
And tales - it never fails!"

"Hey, I know this song," Chad said perkily.

Bobby began to twitch.

"You lying so low in the weeds
I bet you gonna ambush me
You'd have me down, down, down, down on my knees
Now, wouldn't you, Barracuda?"

Cloud raised one eyebrow. "Isn't this by--?"

"Uh-huh."Zelda nodded quickly.

"But Bobby HATES--"

"Uh-huh."

"Back over time, we were all tryyyyyying for free
Met up with porpoise and me
No right, no wrong, selling a song - a naaaaaaaaaaame
Whisper game."

Hoover snatched ArtiChoke's cowbell away as she dance too close.

It did little to assuage Bobby's twitch, which had grown into a full-grown spastic quiver.

"If the real thing don't do the trick
You better make up something quick.
You gonna burn, burn, burn, burn to the wick
Ooooooh, Barracuda!"

Suddenly, Bobby leapt up with a screech of pain. "NO! CAN'T ... TAKE IT! NO ... MORE ... HEART!"

And then ran out of the auditorium.

Three verses later, the Slaughterettes finally finished playing.

"Hey, what was his problem?" Rainbow demanded.

"We think Heart killed his parents," Warren shrugged.

Hank elbowed him. "His parents aren't dead."

"Oh. We have no idea, then. Maybe it had something to do with one of his ex-girlfriends."

"NOT ME!" four voices chorused.

"Mmph MMMPH!" Opal added.

"So what did we get?" ArtiChoke demanded.

"Well, the rest of the Slaughterettes get a six out of ten for music ... I'm not too keen on Heart myself, a ten out of ten for attitude and a ten out of ten for hottieness. You, on the other hand, get a negative sixteen for deadly assault with a cowbell."

Rainbow was counting up points on her fingers. "NUTS! We lost by two points."

"I knew we should've gone with 'Carwash,'" the Boxer grumbled.

Suddenly, Opal sat up, ramrod straight, and passed out.

Everyone just stared at her.

"What happened?" Hank sputtered.

"Huh. The thrall wore off," the Boxer frowned. "Crud. Well, this mission was entirely unsuccessful. C'mon, let's go home. The sooner the Baron tosses us in the Pit, the sooner we get out."

Rainbow and Hoover sighed, and ArtiChoke started kvetching.

The Angels looked at one another.

Zelda cleared her throat. "Hey, I know you've got a busy schedule, and we still can't let you have Opal or Meryl ... but you wanna stick around and have some pancakes with us?"

The Boxer looked back at her teammates, who nodded eagerly.

"Sure. Just don't tell the big guy."

"We wouldn't DREAM of it."

Bobby Drake was halfway across town before he realized what he was doing.

He shook his head dazedly as he continued down the sidewalk.

"Man ... I need some sleep. Sleep and no singing. There will be sleep and no singing at home. And NO HEART. DEFINITELY NO HEART." He thought for a minute. "And mashed potatoes. Maybe I can get Mom to make some mashed potatoes."

Bobby turned the corner onto his parents' street.

"What's up with the singing, anyway? I don't sing. X-Men don't sing..."

He cut through the lawn.

"Yeah, I'm going home where the weirdest thing around is the carpet. Home is where the normality is."

Bobby unlocked the door, and walked into his house.

And promptly wished he hadn't.

His father was standing on the couch, with one foot on its arm.

"Love lifts us up where we belong,
Where the eagles cry
On a mountain high!"

And then Bobby's mother leapt out of the kitchen, clutching a wooden spoon to her chest.

"Love lifts us up where we belong,
Far from the world below,
Up where the clear winds blow!"

Bobby slowly backed out the door again.

William blinked. "Did you hear something?"

Madelaine arched one eyebrow. "Did you?"

"Not a thing."

Bobby sat glumly on his porch, contemplating his fate.

Finally, he stood up, and the scenery behind him faded, until he was illuminated by a single spotlight against a black backdrop. (This is all very artsy, folks, so you'll have to bear with me.)

Bobby cleared his throat, and faint music started up in the background.

"There's a little back spot on the sun today
It's the same old thing as yesterday
There's a black hat caught in a high tree-top
There's a flag pole rag and the wind won't stop

I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'd end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the King of Pain

There's a little back spot on the sun today
That's my soul up there
It's the same old thing as yesterday
That's my soul up there
There's a black hat caught in a high tree-top
That's my soul up there
There's a flag pole rag and the wind won't stop
That's my soul up there

I have stood here before inside the pouring rain
With the world turning circles running 'round my brain
I guess I'm always hoping that you'd end this reign
But it's my destiny to be the King of Pain

There's a fossil that's trapped in a high cliff wall
That's my soul up there
There's a dead salmon frozen in a waterfall
That's my soul up there
There's a blue whale beached by--"

"Bobby?"

"--spring tide's ebb,"

"Bobby?"

"That's my -- hmm?"

Lev stuck her head on stage. "That's a really weird song."

"Yeah, I know."

"Your soul is a dead salmon? That's CREEPY."

"Well, I'm the King of Pain. It all goes."

"Huh. Couldn't you sing 'Don't Stand So Close to Me,' or 'Roxanne' or something?"

"Those are both kinda dirty."

"...Isn't everything by the Police?"

"Uh ... probably."

"Hey, you wanna come sing with me?"

"Do we have to sing 'King of Pain'?"

"Do you have your tambourine?"

"I do!"

Piano and drums started up in the background, and Lev whipped out her tambourine.

Bobby cleared his throat.

"Back me, up baby!"

"Okay!"

"Why do you build me up?"

"Build me up!"

"Buttercup, baby, just to let me down."

"Let me down!"

"And mess me around, and then worst of all..."

"Worst of all!"

"You never call baby, when you say you will."

"Say you will!"

"But I love you still--
I need you!"

"I need you!"

"More than anyone, baby...
you know that I have from the start.
Build me up."

"Build me up!"

"Buttercup, don't break my heart!"

Lev shoved the tambourine at Bobby and took over the next verse.

"'I'll be over at ten,'
you told me time and again
But you're late --
I wait around and then
I run to the door
I can't take anymore
It's not you, you let me down again."

"Hey, Hey, Hey!"

"Baby, baby, try to find..."

"Hey, Hey, Hey!"

"A little time and I'll make you happy."

"Hey, Hey, Hey!"

"I'll be home
I'll be beside the phone waiting for you.
Why do you build me?"

"Build me up!"

"Buttercup, baby, just to let me down."

"Let me down!"

"And mess me around, and then worst of all..."

"Worst of all!"

"You never call baby, when you say you will."

"Say you will!"

"But I love you still--
I need you!"

"I need you!"

"More than anyone, baby...
you know that I have from the start.
Build me up."

"Build me up!"

"Buttercup, don't break my heart!"

And as our hero and heroine take their bows ... fade to black.

to be continued >>

NEXT TIME on the Super Uncanny Adventures of Bobby Drake and his Amazing X-Girlfriends: Bobby and Zelda double-date! The ultimate crime against humanity when a Famous Celebrity is kidnapped! Guest-shots from classic Iceman Fanfiction personalities! And little-to-no Opal!
Coming soon in SUAoBDahAXG #9: Son of a Son of a Superhero.

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