My first task then was to regroup with the party that I had come from New York with. Jean Grey, it turns out, had already made it back to New York and was staying at the Hellfire Club. She was fully immersed in her Black Queen persona. A rather disturbing prospect, given her recent struggles with the Phoenix entity. Fortunately, perhaps, Emma Frost has gone after her, hopefully to keep an eye on Jean. The bad news is, she had also resumed her role as the White Queen. While as a man I do appreciate the Hell Club's fashion choices, for the women at least, their underlying ambitions cause me no end of headaches.
Next I scanned for Gaia. She had managed to land a guest spot on the Oprah Winfrey show. Gaia told me that she wanted to remain out on the West Coast for a few days to do some exploring and that she would return under her own steam to the mansion when she was ready.
Then I used my telepathic powers to seek out Storm, the pilot of the X-Jet. I found her at the Beverly Hills Hilton in the Honeymoon suite. To my shock, she and the Black Panther were in the midst of a rather intimate moment. I almost fell out of my chair.
It's possible that part of my reaction might have been jealousy. You see, Storm and I had shared a rather intimate moment of our own a few weeks ago. At the time Storm was possessed by my mortal enemy, the Shadow King. Hmm. I hope that doesn't mean that the Shadow King and I shared . .
Either way, Storm told me that she and T'Challa were planning to remain in LA for a while and that I should go ahead without her. That left only Cyclops.
I found him sleeping in dumpster behind a Wendy's on Sunset Boulevard. He had lost his wig and was searching for it. A couple of days before we left for Deadpool's premiere, Son Goku, who was at the mansion to assist with the Watcher crisis, had shaved off all of Scott's hair. He has been wearing a wig ever since. Jean and Emma, irritated at Scott for some reason or other, kicked him around for awhile. Then Jean dumped him at Wendy's.
I took a taxi to pick up Scott and then we drove to the X-Jet. Cyclops, looking quite the worse for wear, flew us back to the mansion in Westchester in time for the X-Mas festivities. The party consists mostly of a large high-carb meal and the unavoidable exchanging of presents.
I got a sweater. One sweater. A school full of people. I, their faithful leader. One sweater. Ah well.
In the end, I suppose that's not really what X-Mas is all about. We are here to celebrate peace and brotherhood, etcetera. To that end I say - Merry X-Mas everyone!