Mojo (the Monkeyboy, not the giant yellow alternate universe psycho with a butt for a stomach) had been smearing some kind of foul smelling brown gunk on the walls of the Danger Sled. I really didn't want to know what it was. I tried to tune him out and make telepathic contact with X-Men back on Earth. I wanted an update on how the battle against Gaia's army was going. Mojo's inane shrieking would not allow it.
Sitting in his control seat, Jon turned to me. "Can't you do something about that? You've got that putting people to sleep thing you do, right?"
I shook my head. "My mental powers only work on minds. These Monkeyboys appear to be mindless."
"Yeah, but they speak. They must have some kind of brains."
"In order for me to take command of another's brain, there must be some kind of logical cohesiveness to their thought pattern. His mind is like fusion jazz. It just makes no sense whatsoever."
"Well, at least we're almost at the coordintes the Queen gave us," Jon said. "We should be seeing the Leviathan in a couple of hours."