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Morph and the Rubber Biscuit
by Pirate Turner
Green eyes flitted around the table as the cook held her breath in anticipation of whether or not her meal would be accepted.
Logan poked at his meat with his fork. When the blackened flesh didn't give, he stuck his fork in, but when he went to pick it back up, the whole chunk of meat came with it. He shrugged his muscular shoulders and ripped the meat off of the fork with his teeth.
Ororo, who sat next to Logan, smiled gently and hid her thoughts with a sip of her sweet tea. She forced herself to swallow as a bite of stiff sugar hit her tongue.
Jean took one look at the expression in Ororo's blue eyes, ignored her husband's foot rubbing against her own, and bravely took a bite of peas. She smiled instead of grimaced when they crunched.
Scott picked up a roll, attempted to take a bite, and then kept the biscuit in his mouth as he felt a tooth break.
"Still not feeling well, Sir?" Hank inquired as Charles looked mournfully down at his plate.
"I am afraid not, Hank," Charles mused. He certainly wasn't feeling well enough to eat this food!
Hank took a bite of his mashed potatoes and gravy and had to force himself to swallow the thick, ungiving mass. "Let us," he said after regretfully trying a sip of tea to clear his throat, "retire to my laboratory. I am certain I can improve your health."
Charles nodded. He was as sure that Hank could help him feel better as he was that there was nothing that could be done for this food.
"Your loss," Remy called as he bravely ate his lunch. "Dis food is de bomb!" He grinned and winked at the cook as he continued to hide his true distaste. He wished his words were truer in the sense he attempted to make them sound, but he had rarely tasted anything as bad as the meal currently set before him. He had a lot to teach the cook, both in and out of the kitchen, if only she'd give him a chance.
"Parting is such sweet sorrow," Hank quoted as he rose from the table. He gently touched Bobby's shoulder. "Robert, I could use your assistance."
Bobby looked down at his untouched plate. "Hank -- "
"I am sorry, my dear friend, but I really must insist." He grabbed his shoulder and hauled him off with him. Charles glided slowly behind the pair but not before giving his student who had tried so hard to make this dinner a success a reassuring smile. "You will save some leftovers for me, Rogue?"
"O' course, Professor," Rogue started, immediately brightening.
Then a call broke out. "R-R-R-R-R-R-Rubber biscuit!"
Rogue whirled around, her green eyes flashing with dark fury as Morph tossed a biscuit against the wall. His wife grimaced. "Dear, that really was not called for . . . " Celina started, hoping to spare him from Rogue's fury.
"Are ya kidding, Love Kitten?!" Morph replied. "I've never seen anything as hard as that biscuit! Look! It even made a hole in the wall!"
"Ah'll make a hole in yoah wall!" Morph's words stopped abruptly as Rogue's gloved fist slammed into his face. He fell back in his chair, immediately unconscious from the ferocity of the blow. The remaining X-Men exchanged looks, and then everybody started eating at once.
Charles shook his head as he glided away in his hoverchair. Some days he couldn't help to think that Morph was never going to learn, but regardless he was glad to be freed from Rogue's culinary waste. Then he remembered that she was going to save leftovers for him and grimaced as his stomach churned at the mere thought. He was going to stay sick, he decided, as long as it was Rogue's turn to cook!
The End