“I’m not so sure this sends the message that we want to send,” Professor Xavier looked at me skeptically.
“Are you kidding?” I replied. “We’re going after the underpants vote and I’m going to get them.”
“I just think that it may be a little too personal,” he said. “Asking a candidate if he likes boxers or briefs is one thing but this seems to go a little too far.”
“I know I know,” I held up my hands. “It’s a little risqué, but it’s not like I’m up on a stage shooting bottle rockets out of my butt or something.”
The Professor looked at me.
“Have you shot bottle rockets out of your butt?” he asked after a long pause.
“I’d rather not answer that,” I replied.
“Still, I understand that at this point we need to reach out to different groups and I realize that we’re at a critical juncture in our campaign, but I don’t know. I just don’t think this ad is what we’re looking for right now.”
“Well I like it,” Emma Frost poked her head into the room.
“You would,” Xavier sighed.