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Late Saturday Morning, Room 220
Aug. 5th, 2006 07:36 pmPeter woke up and knew something was wrong right away, even though his spider sense wasn't going off. For one thing, nothing felt quite right. For another, he could hear a bird-y voice saying, "Buenas dias! Millenium hand and shrimp!" and he was pretty sure he hadn't fallen asleep in Zero's room the night before.
He sat up, knocked a curtain of pink hair away from his face, and said, "How did I get here?"
Wait a second. He knew that voice. And that hair. Pink. Who did he know with pink hair? "Oh, no, please not this again," he muttered, and looked down. Yeah. He knew that Sex Pistols t-shirt. And the chest under it. And neither of them belonged to him. "But Jean Grey's not even on this island!" he cried.
He considered going back to bed until it wore off or whatever, but Fish was going to get pretty insistent about getting fed soon, and Zero might be out there somewhere looking for her body. Possibly even--eep--in his body.
Oh, well, he guessed it could be worse. It could be Wolverine again.
He sat up, knocked a curtain of pink hair away from his face, and said, "How did I get here?"
Wait a second. He knew that voice. And that hair. Pink. Who did he know with pink hair? "Oh, no, please not this again," he muttered, and looked down. Yeah. He knew that Sex Pistols t-shirt. And the chest under it. And neither of them belonged to him. "But Jean Grey's not even on this island!" he cried.
He considered going back to bed until it wore off or whatever, but Fish was going to get pretty insistent about getting fed soon, and Zero might be out there somewhere looking for her body. Possibly even--eep--in his body.
Oh, well, he guessed it could be worse. It could be Wolverine again.
