Wednesday, October 31, 2007

To the Cerebro!

After a thorough analysis, Professor Xavier and I concluded that the Emma Frost imposter in the picture was none other than Mystique. The Professor didn’t know where she was, but he knew that he could find her utilizing his mutant-finding supercomputer, Cerebro.

“Quick, Jon,” he said. “To the Cerebro.”

“You got it,” I answered. “Where’s the elevator to get to it?”

“No time,” the Professor answered. “I had these X-Poles installed just for this occasion.”

“X-Poles?” I asked. “Are we in a strip club or something?”

“No Jon,” he shook his head slightly. “It’s an innovative concept that I had installed in my office. Here.”

He flipped the bobbling head of a Charles Darwin bobblehead back and pressed a secret switch. A nearby bookcase slid smoothly to the side to reveal a set of poles leading into darkness below.

“Uh, so you want me to slide down the pole to Cerebro?” I asked.

“Of course,” Xavier smiled. “It’s not far. You’ll have fun, just like a fireman!”

“I’ve seen this before,” I replied.

“I don’t think so. I came up with this idea by myself. Of course, I had Forge put it together for me. Any of my X-Men can take that right down to the mansion’s lower levels and be ready for action.”

“And you thought of this on your own?”


“You didn’t see it on some TV show or anything?”

“Heavens not, Jon,” Professor Xavier shuddered a little. “What are you even talking about?”

“You know, a show about a certain caped crusader?” I prodded.

“Caped what?” he looked taken aback. “I would never support a product featuring him. He’s the competition, you know. I assure you, I came up with the idea and Forge engineered it to X-Men specifications.”

“Alright,” I answered. I guess some things just aren’t worth arguing over. “I’ll take the pole. If you take the pole, though, how are you going to get your wheelchair down?”

“Me take the pole? Oh heavens no, I’ll just take the lift over there.”

“Suit yourself.” I gave a jaunty salute and slid down the pole to the lower level.

I reached the end of the ride and my feet were met by a thick cushion. I stepped off it and down a couple of steps where I met the Professor coming out of his elevator.

“See, Jon,” he said. “I told you that you’d be fi—oh my!”

“What is it?” I asked.

“It looks like Forge got the Automatic X-Costume Device up and running. That was unexpected.”

I looked in a convenient, nearby mirror and say that I had been outfitted in Cyclops’ uniform.

“Oh well,” I shrugged. “I guess I’m lucky I didn’t get Storm’s.”

Monday, October 29, 2007

Dance off!

When the odious Dr. Smith threw down the challenge for a disco, I only had one question for him: When and Where?

Allegedly, the challenge has been set for Christmas eve, but I can’t wait that long. I’m ready now.

The blood of a competitor burns through my veins. Whether it be a match against an Orwelian Pantherbot, answering the call to become president of the United States, or participating in a dance off. I knew I had to be there and in short order I was. I looked at the DJ and he looked at me and I gave him one of those gunshot points with my index finger. He pointed back with a smile and a nod and he spun the disk.

First, I thought I’d warm up a little. A little disco shuffle here is a great way to start out, but you know I’m about to kick it up the proverbial notch.
Image Hosted by

And here it is. I know, the lights and the movement is almost hypnotic, isn’t it? If it wasn’t me doing it, I know I’d be hypnotized.
Image Hosted by

Now for something a little more up my alley, the moonwalk!
Image Hosted by

OK, OK, I know that’s not a real moonwalk. This is a real moonwalk!
Image Hosted by

That has got to be the most presidential looking moonwalk that I have ever done.

This just shows you, ladies and gentlemen of this great nation that I am a man of action. While my opponents may want to talk about the issues, talk about making America a better place, or talk about dancing, I’m the one out there doing it.

A vote for Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is a vote for freedom.

A vote for Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator is a vote for progress.
I'm Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator and I approve of this message.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Outside Xavier's Mansion

After my brief meeting with Professor Xavier at his mansion concerning the scandal that I am currently embroiled in, it seemed very obvious to me that both parties in the picture were definitely imposters. I just needed to find a way to prove this. Additionally, I knew that when I next sleep, I very likely resume my dream quest of former presidents.

The Professor and Emma Frost accompanied Private Hudson and I the front door to his mansion. My trusty ship, the Danger Sled was parked in the faculty parking lot and I wanted to get moving right away. For some reason, the Professor never gives me a parking pass and then he complains when I actually find enough space to put my ship down. Why he doesn’t let me land it in the X-Hanger of his X-Mansion, I’ll never know.

Suddenly, we heard a slight mewing sound. It was difficult to pinpoint at first, but Wolverine quickly ran out and sniffed out the source with his keen animal senses.

“Up there,” he pointed. “There’s a flamin’ cat stuck up in that tree!”

“Who’s cat is that?” the Professor demanded.

“I don’t know,” Emma replied. “I haven’t seen it around here before. Could be a stray. Here kitty, kitty kitty!”

“How may I help you?” Kitty Pryde appeared next to us, still adorned in her skimpy attire.

“Not now, Kitty,” the Professor scolded. “We are dealing with a situation here.”

Kitty shrugged and walked away as the cat mewed at us again from its perch.

“This calls for a Fastball Special!” Wolverine declared as his claws popped out with their signature sound. “Colossus, where are ya?”

“Da tovarich.” The burly Russian quickly changed into his armored form, scooped up Wolverine, and prepared to aim his comrade at the cat.

“Wait, wait, that’s not going to work,” the Professor waived them off. “I shall mentally command the cat to jump into my lap.”

“That’s not going to work, either,” Emma countered. “What if the wind pushes the cat away? You’ll never catch it, you’re not exactly known for your physical abilities.”

“I’ll have you know, I once played right field in little league,” he replied as more of his X-Men began to gather around. “I certainly have caught my fair share of fly balls.”

“Yeah well catching cats is a whole different animal than catching balls,” Wolverine growled and once again popped his claws. “I’ll just cut it down with my claws.”

“No, I’ll turn into my diamond form and punch the tree,” Emma stepped in front of him. “When the cat falls, you catch him.”

“Punching trees? Whoever heard of such a stupid thing,” Hudson snorted, then hefted his weapon. “This is a situation where you call in the marines. The marines and their M41A Pulse Rifles.”

“No, I’ll freeze the tree,” Iceman offered.

“I’ll t’row one o’ my ‘sposive cards at it, mon ami,” Gambit offered.

“I shall call the rains down from the heavens!” Storm declared. “The cat will not want to get wet and will come down to seek refuge.”

“That would be a foolish action to take,” Beast countered. “There are those of us here who would not care to be drenched in water as well. I am certainly capable of climbing that tree to retrieve the wayward feline.”

“Nein, mein freunde,” Nightcrawler stopped the Beast. “You are too large for ze tree. I shall teleport up zhere to get ze Katze.”

“You can’t do that,” Jean Summers said. “With all those tree branches, you won’t be able to find a safe place to teleport to. I’ll just use my telekinesis to float up there and get it.”

“Listen everybody, please,” the Professor announced loudly. “I am the leader of the X-Men and it is imperative that you follow my instructions to save this cat.”

“Yeah, but I’m the field leader,” Cyclops insisted. “And since we’re in a field, I say that I have jurisdiction over this operation.”

“Like heck I’m gonna follow you, pantywaist.” Wolverine popped his claws with a metallic snikt.

“Please can’t we all just get along?” Forge stepped up. “I can go to my workshop and make a null-grav ladder and climb up there and get the cat.”

“Silence, everybody!” the Professor shouted. “This is how we’re going to do it. Beast, you check that tree over there for cats, Nightcrawler, you scout that one. Cyclops, order Jean to lift Emma up there to get the cat. Wolverine and Colossus, you stand guard here in case the cat jumps.”

"Sehr gut." With a cloud of smoke, Nightcrawler disapeared into the darkness.

“Fine,” Wolverine growled.

“Da, comrade,” Colossus nodded.

“Iceman, Gambit, and Storm, you stand ready as reserves just in case this is a Sentinel trap.”

“You got it,” Iceman punched his fist into his open palm for emphasis. “Hey, wait, that guy’s up there already!”

The X-Men astonishingly looked up the tree and saw a figure already up there.

“Jon?” Xavier called out. “Is that you?”

“Yeah!” I called back. “I just about got ‘em.”

Scooping up the cat and cradling it in my arms, I made my way back to the ground. With a sneeze, I handed the cat over to Emma.”

“Stupid cats make me sneeze,” I muttered while rubbing my nose.

“Oh, what a darling kitty!” Emma snuggled her face into the cat.

“That’s hot,” Hudson whistled.

“Jon, thank you for your help,” the Professor said. “But clearly I had the situation under control.”

“No no, don’t thank me,” I answered. “I’m just doing my part.”

“Yes, well, I said we had the situation under control,” the Professor repeated. “I was just about to deploy my X-Men to retrieve the cat.”

“Yeah I know,” I shrugged. “It just seems that I don’t help out enough with the small things, you know. I’m always fighting the next big fight but I think that was the first time I ever got a cat down from a tree like that. It was really refreshing. Except for the sneezing part, of course.”

“Well in that case, I would like to make you an honorary member of the X-Men,” Xavier declared. “With your abilities and quick thinking, you would be a great addition to the team.”

“Really?” I asked. “You’re really gonna make me an X-Man?”

“No!” the Professor shouted. “Now get your damn ship out of my faculty parking lot!”

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Hudson's Getting Frosty

Hudson and I were still at Professor Xavier’s mansion following our conversation with Emma Frost. Reluctantly, Emma turned Hudson’s motor functions back on and without missing a beat, the Colonial Marine gave a Hudson-sized comment about her two greatest assets.

“Did you just refer to these as ‘fun bags?’” she asked in disbelief.

“You got ‘em and know how to show ‘em, baby,” he replied. “Hey, is it kind of chilly in here?”

“Please let me mindwipe him,” she muttered to me.

“I don’t think you could,” I shrugged. “He’s got one of those primitive lizard brains, you know.”

“Come on, honey.” Hudson just wouldn’t stop. “I wanna get Frosty with you. Hey wait, your last name is Frost! Man, sometimes I don’t know how clever I am!”

“I know.” She sighed to me while attempting to ignore Hudson’s come ons.

“Come on, baby,” Hudson pressed. “Tell me you aren’t in for some PT with the H-Man. I promise that I’ll respect you in the morning. Or at least I’ll call you ma’am.”

“Why do you let him hang out with you anyway?” she asked me.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “The comedy value, I guess.”

“You know, I could easily put the image of a giant bug in your mind,” the telepath warned him.

“I’ll behave,” the marine quickly acquiesced.

“Jon, I do need to tell you another thing,” she said, grateful to change the subject. “About your dream quest.”

“I almost forgot about that,” I said. “Well, I mean, I haven’t forgotten, it’s just that with all this going on with the scandal and all, my dream quest hasn’t been my primary focus right now, you know?”

“Of course, I understand,” she nodded. “I know that you haven’t had one of your dreams since I monitored you, but I wanted you to know that you’re not through this yet. I wouldn’t be surprised if had another dream soon, maybe Wednesday night.”

“Right,” I answered. “I wonder how close I am to completing this quest. I’ve concluded that the first letter of the last name of each president will create an acronym. The only thing is, the acronym that I currently have is WARTT. Nobody spells wart with two T’s”

“Not even our current president,” Emma agreed. “Probably.”

“Jon, there is something I must tell you.” Professor Xavier rolled into the room on the well-oiled wheels of his wheelchair. “About this scandal, there has been a development.”

“A development?” I asked the headmaster of the very school that I was standing in. “What is it?”

“A development is an incident that causes a situation to change or progress,” the Professor explained. “But that’s not important right now. What is important is that I get the opportunity to tell you this very important thing.”

“Well what is it?” demanded Hudson. “I’m gettin’ all antsy here!”

“Yes, what I was about to say was…”

What is this dramatic development? Find out on Professor Xavier’s blog.

Who will Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator dream about next? Stay tuned to find out.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Highway to the Danger Room

Kitty Pryde greeted Hudson and I at the front door of the X-Mansion dressed rather provocatively. It took me by surprise, but Hudson hardly missed a beat.

“Wowee wow wow!” the private leered at the young mutant.

“Hi guys,” she said ignoring Hudson’s lolling tongue. “You here to see the Professor?”

“Actually, we came to see Emma,” I answered.

“We came for Emma, but I’ll stay for you,” Hudson added.

“Emma’s in the Danger Room with a group of new recruits,” Kitty answered, again ignoring Hudson’s obnoxious comments. “Follow me.”

“Say uh, Kitty,” I said as I trotted quickly to match her step. “What’s with the outfit?”

“What this old thing?” she asked. “Oh, you know. It’s my turn this week and all.”

“Oh baby, it could be your turn this week with me every week,” Hudson wagged his eyebrows. “Mrow, naughty Kitty!!”

Kitty rolled her eyes and punched the entry code allowing us entrance to the nerve center of the Danger Room.

“One moment gentlemen,” Emma said to us while looking out the window at her new recruits. “Ready. Go.”

“Who’re the new recruits?” I asked as I peered out at the three standing in front of the entrance of a maze.

“Oh you could recruit me, baby,” Hudson smiled. “But only if you’re recruiting lovers, not fighters.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to deal with this,” Emma snapped her fingers and Hudson’s face grew blank (er, blanker). He stood stiff as the proverbial board staring off into space without even blinking.

“Hey I like this trick,” I said as I waved my hands in front of his expressionless face. “You have to show me how to do this.”

“Unfortunately, you don’t have the power to do it,” she purred. “You’re here about the photos? It doesn’t take a telepath to figure that out.”

“Word on the street is that’s not us in the pics,” I said.

“So I’ve heard,” she answered.


“There’s hardly a piece of information that is bought or sold that I don’t know about,” she answered. “If it makes you feel any better, that’s not me. I’m not the sort who would psychically seduce someone. That’s just not my style. And believe me, if you and I slept together, you would definitely remember it.”

“Right,” I nodded. “So are you willing to make a statement to the press about this? You know, help me out of this scandal?”

“Not right now,” she shook her head. “I’ve been laying low here. Everything I’ve done in my life has been quiet and sneaky. No matter what side I’ve taken, I’ve always cherished my privacy above all else. I can’t just give that up right now. Maybe someday soon, but not now.”

“Fine,” I said. “But could you at least tell me who’s in the photos?”

“I have my suspicions,” she answered. “But nothing conclusive. I will tell you this though; you are on the right track with the eyes. Your answers are in their eyes.”

I nodded as I digested this information. Meanwhile, Emma turned her attention back to her students in the Danger Room.

“Good job, kids. You can relax,” she said into the microphone. “Want to meet them?”

“Sure,” I shrugged. “But what about--?”

“Him? He’ll be fine.” She led me out of the control center and into the Danger Room itself. “Class, I want you to meet a real hero Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator.”

“Wow!” said one. “The Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator?”

“The one and only,” I replied with a modest shrug.

“Jon, this is Hoo the Owl Girl from the snowy north, Watt, Master of Electricity, and Ida Know the Ghost Girl.”

“Pleased to meet everyone,” I said. “So, what kind of training are you doing today?”

“They are going into the maze individually,” Emma explained. “They meet in the center and work as a team to find their way out. Hoo goes first, Watt’s second and Ida Know is third.”

“Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “You’re saying who is first?”

“That’s what I said,” Emma confirmed. “Who’s first, Watt’s second, and Ida Know’s third.”

“So you’re their leader?” I asked.

“Yes,” Emma replied.

“And their teacher.”


“And you know everyone’s names.”

“Well I should.”

“Well then who’s first?”


“I mean the person’s name.”


“The one who went first.”


“The one who went first.”

“Hoo went first!”

“I’m asking YOU who went first.”

“That’s her name.”

“That’s who’s name?”


“Well go ahead and tell me.”

“It’s Hoo.”

“That’s what I’m asking.”

“That’s what I’m saying: Hoo went first.”

“So when you assemble your team, who do you call?”

“That’s right.”

“What’s right?”

“No, Watt goes second, Hoo went first.”

“I’m not asking who went second.”

“Hoo went first.”

“I don’t know.”

“She’s third, we weren’t talking about her.”

“How did we get to third?”

“Third base?” Emma asked. “Usually it takes a couple dates and a bottle of wine.”


“Went second.”

“No, who went first?”

“And Watt went second.”

“I don’t know.”

“She went third.”

“There I go, back to third again!”

“Well what are you asking?”

“Who went third?”

“Why do you insist on putting Hoo third?”

“What am I putting on third?”

“No. Watt is on second.”

“I don’t know.”

“She went third.”

“OK, OK,” I held up my hands. “Let’s just say who went first.”


“Exactly went first?” I asked.

“No, Hoo went first.”


“That’s right.”

“OK, so let’s say that who goes first, what follows and I don’t know goes third.”

“Now you’re getting it.”

“I don’t know what I’ve got. So what goes in there second and meets who?”

“That’s right.”

“Then they wait for I don’t know.”

“That’s right.”

“I don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

“Ahem,” Watt raised his hand. “Maybe it would clear things up if I explained that my name is Watt because I control electricity and Watt sounds just like what, the non gender specific pronoun.”

“Oh, and my codename is Hoo because I have the power of the snowy owl,” Hoo explained. “Hoo is the noise an owl makes but it sounds like who, you know the other word who.”

“And I call myself Ida Know,” Ida added. “Because I’m the ghost girl.”

“Oh, it all makes sense to me now,” I slapped my forehead. “OK, so my only question is if your name is Ida Know, why are you wearing a Catwoman mask?”

“Ida Know,” she shrugged.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Looking for answers

Grady was a no good, slimy man, but he was good at what he did. He worked the streets and he knew everything that was going on in them from one end of the city to the other. He tried to keep his nose out of trouble. He tried, but he knew too much.

Grady stepped through a puddle in the alley. He probably should have walked around it, but at the time it seemed like it would be quicker. In reality though, it just got his sock wet. It was a quiet alley and if he got through to the other side, he would be home free. At least, that’s what he hoped.

Unfortunately, someone stepped out from the shadows at the end of the alley. Someone who Grady did not want to see.

“Wha--? Who are you?” he sputtered.

“I’m your worst nightmare, baby,” Hudson grinned.

“Hello Grady,” I said as I stepped up behind him.

“Wha!” he yelped. “Aw geez, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“I need some information,” I said.

“No no,” he sputtered again. “I don’t do that kind of stuff.”

“Sure you do, pal,” Hudson towered over him. “I know you and you know that I know what kind of stuff you know.”

“OK OK OK,” he conceded. “But this is a business, fellas. You want the 411, you have to show me the money.”

“So what will it take to make it worth your while?” I asked.

“Bidding starts at 40 dollars, gentlemen.” Grady answered smugly.


“I’m all tapped out ‘til payday, man,” the private answered.

“All I got is a twenty,” I said while thumbing through my wallet. “Can I spot you twenty and owe you twenty?”

“Fine,” he grumbled and took the bill.

“Hey wait a minute,” Hudson said. “You owe me forty bucks, Grady.”

“All I got is this twenty,” the stoolie replied. “Can I give you twenty and spot you twenty?”

“Fine,” Hudson grumbled and took the money.

“What about the forty you owe me?” I asked Hudson. “You know from when we were on Commerce Planet and at that hosiery shop and—”

“OK OK!” Hudson interrupted. “Can I spot you twenty and give you twenty?”

“Alright.” I snatched the cash from his hand.

“Hey,” Grady pointed to the money. “Now you can pay me the other half of the forty.”

“Here.” I handed him the Jackson.

“Now you can pay me the other twenty you owe me.” Hudson took it from Grady.

“And you can pay me the other twenty you owe me.” I took the money from Hudson. “Now that we’re all squared away, talk.”

“So what do you want to know?” Grady asked trying to sound innocent.

“I think you know,” I replied huskily. “There are a few photos out there featuring me and Emma Frost in a compromising position, only that’s not me. Who is it?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” he pleaded.

“I say we grease this rat-freak son of a bitch right now,” Hudson growled.

“OK OK, let’s not get violent here. I don’t have the information that you want, but I do have some information.”

“And that is?” I asked.

“The eyes have it,” he replied.

“What do you mean the eyes have it?” I asked.

“Hey Jon, that’s what you said when you pulled Lord EyeBorg’s cybernetic eye out,” Hudson reminded me.

“You’re right,” I nodded.

“You really said that?” Grady asked. “That’s a pretty good action hero line.”

“Yeah, thanks,” I muttered.

“It was really sweet,” Hudson said excitedly. “He was all like ‘Yoink, the eyes have it, man!’”

“Wow,” Grady looked at me in awe. “That’s pretty cool, how do you come up with stuff like that?”

“Are you kidding?” Hudson laughed. “Jon’s got a bunch of great lines all stockpiled. He’s just waiting for the right moment to use them.”

“Really?” Grady asked. “That is so cool.”

“Alright alright,” I stepped in. “What do you mean by the eyes have it?”

“What I’m saying is that the pictures look just like you, but the eyes are different.”

“Heck yeah.” Hudson clenched his fist for emphasis. “It’s like that James song, sometimes I look into your eyes and I see your soul.”

“Yeah, well stop looking in my eyes like that,” I growled back to the marine.

“But that’s your answer,” Grady insisted. “You figure out whose eyes are in those photos and you’ll find your guy.”

“And girl,” Hudson added. “I mean if it wasn’t Emma. Which it probably wasn’t. Do you think it was? Maybe I should go talk to her. Got her number?”

“Maybe we should talk to her,” I answered.

Friday, October 12, 2007

I thought I’d throw a pic in for a little change of pace. Yes those are my kids, we got the shirts from a friend because normally we don’t buy matching shirts. Unless they’re for my wife and I and they say “Champion Mustache Rider” and “Champion Mustache.”

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

To Join the Press Conference, Press "Conference"

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being here today. I’ve been working hard on my campaign. But I want to say one thing to the American people. I want you to listen to me. I'm going to say this again. I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Miss Frost. These allegations are false. And I need to go back to work for the American people.”

“We’ve all heard that line before. How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

“Because I cannot tell a lie. I know that sounds pretty farfetched in this day and age, but that’s how I roll. Oh, and I’d also like to apologize for saying ‘that’s how I roll.’”

“Jon, Jon! What about the pictures? It clearly looks like you two shared an intimate moment.”

“I must reiterate. That was not me. I am the victim of some insidious plot to discredit myself and my campaign.”

“So you’re saying that you don’t know who the person in this picture is?”

“That depends on what your definition of ‘is’ is.”

“Oh come on, are you trying pull something here?”

“Well, I guess that depends on what your definition of the word ‘pull’ is.”

“Isn’t it true, Jon, that Emma Frost was in your campaign headquarters?”

“Yes, I, uh, had a series of dreams and she was monitoring them. She watched me sleep and that was all that happened.”

“I’m Bill Kurtis, would you care to comment on the rumors that you think these dreams are some sort of spirit quest to gain the characteristics of past presidents?”

“Where would you hear a rumor like that?”

“On the Internet.”

“Uh, right. Well, there are many wonders in this world and the human mind is one of them. That’s all I care to say about that at the time.”

“So you were with her, at night, asleep in your bed and nothing happened?”

“That’s right. That’s what I said.”

“Yeah, but she’s totally hot, man.”

“Hudson? What are you doing here?”

“Hey, I’m a reporter, man. I write for the Colonial Marine Times. Do you or do you not think that Emma Frost is totally or totally not hot or not?”

“Wait. What are you asking?”

“Don’t you think she’s hot?”

“Well sure. I can control my urges though. Can’t anyone around here control his or her urges? Am I the only one?”

“What are you some sort of phony Intergalactic Gladiator?”

“What kind of question is that? Are you some kind of idiot or something?”

“I sink you should enjoy haffing zex wit’ Emma Frost, but keep it clean und use a condom.”

“Yeah, but I said I didn’t do it. Are you even still alive?”

“Oh yes, and I would also enjoy having sex with Emma Frost, but I would keep it clean and use a condom.”

“Ah, the mental image! I didn’t want to hear that.”

“Oh, I know how to turn a gal on. You gotta talk dirty to her like this: So anyway I'd be rubbing your big [beep] and getting your [beeps] really hard, kinda' kissing your neck from behind...and then I would take the other hand with the falafel thing and I'd just put it on your [beep] but you'd have to do it really light, just kind of a tease business... ”

“I don’t want to hear that, either! This press conference is over.”

I stepped off the stage and moved out of sight of the reporters. I saw Professor Xavier who was sitting in his wheelchair and watching the whole conference.

“Well?” I threw my arms up, kind of perturbed that my conference didn’t go as well as planned.

The Professor, in return, gave me one of those slow, sarcastic rounds of applause.

“Ha. Thanks.”

“I have to admit, I’ve seen better. Don’t worry though, Jon. I think I know where the pictures came from.”