Monday, February 26, 2007

Oprah cackled away like the evil Wicked Witch of the West while her audience attacked us. Her dark mutant powers had transformed the former soccer moms into feral were-beasts bent on rending the flesh from our bones, judging by the way the long strands of salvia dripped from their 6 inch longs fangs.

I tried taking control of their minds but they had devolved too far into animals for me to reach them.

"Shall I start blasting, Professor?" Cyclops asked.

"Remember, Scott, these are innocent victims. It is out sworn obligation to protect them."

One of the she-were-beasts leapt at me, trying to sink her fangs into my neck.

"Blast her, Scott! Blaster her!" I started screaming.

A brilliant light flared from Cyclops' visor sending the savage audience member flying back into the pack. Colossus lifted up the couch from the stage and tossed it between us and them as a barricade.

"Enough games!" Oprah bellowed. We turned to face her. Weird yellowish energy waves emanated from around her head. "Now you die!"

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

I ignored the messages on my answering machine for two weeks now, but I could duck the network executive no longer. He said I was scheduled to appear on Oprah's show this afternoon. If I didn't show, it would be a major blow to my credibility. With a sigh, I gave in to the inevitable.

Cyclops and Colossus flew me in the X-Jet to Chicago. Setting the plane in automatic, stealth-hover mode, they then took me to her studio. Since I was going to be facing one of the most powerful and evil of mutants, I thought it wise to bring along some muscle. You know, just in case.

The audience politely applauded and Oprah herself stood to greet me. I could see the evil fire burning in her eyes as she introduced me. "Professor Charles Frances Xavier," she said with an unmistakably menacing tone. "Founder of the Xavier School for Gifted Children and activist for mutant rights. Welcome to my show."

I ignored my anxiety and put on a fake, warm grin as I waved to the audience. Wheeling over to her, I kept my finger on the trigger switch of my heat-seeking mini-sidewinder missiles.

"Thank you so much for having me, Oprah. It's a real treat to be here," I lied.

"Of course it is," she replied coolly. "But this isn't the first time we met, is it?"

I immediately flashed back on the battle the X-Men had against Apocalypse and his Horseman. Oprah was his Death. We almost didn't win that one. Only Gaia had managed to save the day, and she wasn't here now.

"Er, I'm not sure what you're referring to, Oprah," I answered.

"Then let me remind you."

Suddenly the lights in her studio all changed to an evil red. A wild cackle erupted from her lips and her outfit changed to that of the slutty Red Queen's. Looking at her fat body in skimpy lingerie made me gag a bit.

Energy waves flew from her fingers tips over the audience and they were all transformed into bizarre half-man, half-animal monsters. I should say 'half-woman' really, because Oprah's audience was all female for some reason. The woman-animals growled in furry as they all rushed towards me. To my horror, their minds had devolved to the point where my psionic powers had no effect on them.

This wasn't looking good.

Friday, February 16, 2007

Man . . I lost the Amazing Mutant Race. Warbird and I were doing so great. We were kicking ass! I know that damn Wolverine set us up. He's going to be holding this over my head for a long time.

We were doing so good. Carol was wearing her tight outfit that really shows off her legs. How on Earth could we have lost? I know how. It was that damn Simon. Yeah. Randy was loving us. That freak Paula was off on her own planet but she seemed to like us too. It was that damn Simon. And he's just a mere Homo Sapien. Who the heck is he to judge us? Logan is right. It is the Amazing Mutant Race. There should be a mutant judge. Yeah. I think I'll make a big stink and have them do the whole race all over again! I like this plan! It's a good . . what?

Oh great, the Professor wants me to take him to the Oprah show. Like I don't have anything better to do. Like I'm just sitting around and . . . okay fine. I have nothing better to do. I'll go pre-heat the car for the Professor.

Sunday, February 04, 2007

As the limo arrived to take me to Oprah's, I couldn't help but think what a terrible mistake this was. My sworn enemy . . a powerful evil mutant . . and here I was heading straight into her layer. The car drove down the highway and I looked to the Heavens for some sign that this would be alright. All I saw was this horrible and familiar scene . .

Then a few miles down the road I saw this . .

And then this . .

And then this . .

Then this . .

Followed by this . .

Then this . .

This one I could have been spared . .

Doesn't Logan own any shirts?

Obviously these were not the signs I was looking for.

I would like to give an X-tra special thanks to NOVY for alerting me to all of these billboards. She really went above and beyond the call of duty. She may not be a mutant, but she'll always be an X-Man.

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