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Language:
English
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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
Words:
409
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
13
Hits:
698

The Value of Paint

Summary:

When Scott ends up painting on the weekend, he becomes a target for both Wolverine and Morph, but it's Morph who manages to land a strike on Cyke that no one else ever has.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:


The Value of Paint
by Pirate Turner

 

        Scott Summers sighed unhappily. The sun was just beginning to rise, and here he was already standing with a paint brush in his hand! "I don't believe I'm going to have to waste my Saturday morning painting! Why me? I'm not artistic!" he whined aloud to the early morning air.

        A gruff voice came in answer from behind him. "'Cause yer the only one stupid enough ta 'yes, sir' Chuck when he said he needed some one to repaint the garage."

        Scott couldn't help but to jump at the unexpected voice. It was instinct, and by the time he realized it, it was too late. Wolverine was already continuing on his way to the parking lot, still grumbling, "'Course yer such a Boy Scout if he asked ya to pass gas, yer'd ask him how rotten he wanted it."

        Scott groaned. Wolverine was headed to the parking lot, and Scott just knew he'd have the newest Wolverine-styled "convertible convertible" waiting for him by the time he managed to get there. He heard the unmistakable Snikt! Snikt! of claws in the distance and knew it was already too late.

        He sighed and turned back to examine the garage. He certainly had his work cut out for him! Wolverine's words seemed to drift back to him on the wind. Of course, he was right. If Professor X wanted something done, who was he to argue?

        He raised his arm and was about to begin painting when he realized the brush had left his hand! He looked around and found it laying on the ground. He must have dropped it when he'd turned around. He picked it up and was about to dip it in the paint jar when it placed half its bristles on either side of the lid and strained to keep from being shoved in! Scott spread his feet and braced himself; then he tried to dip the brush again. The brush fought him for several minutes but finally surrendered. Or so Scott thought.

        The tips of the brush dipped into the paint. Then, the brush pushed itself up and slashed paint across Scott's face. He dropped the brush onto the ground and began to do his best to wipe off the paint. When he finally looked around again, Scott caught the last few glimpses of a brunette man running around the corner. "Morph," he grumbled. "I should have known!"

The End

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Pirate Turner.
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