Henchman.

During the drive back to my school I couldn't help but mull over in my mind what a thorn Henchman was in my life. His most grievous act against me to date was without a doubt his stealing of my girlfriend while I was off world with Jon, the Intergalactic Gladiator saving the universe for Queen Galacta. If he wasn't such a pitiful AIM-reject, I'd almost be tempted to think he was trying to be my arch-nemesis.

Wolverine pulled our van into the parking garage at the school and I left instructions that I was not to be disturbed. Once in my quarters, I set to the task of finding Henchman. Since he's just a stooge, I knew he must be in the employ of someone else. Obviously he wouldn't have set out to sabotage Jon's presidential campaign on his own. The first order of business though was locating him.

A knock at my door interrupted my thoughts. Before I could answer, my door flew open and in rushed two pre-pubescent males. One had flaming hair and the other was green.

"Professor X!" the flaming hair child yelled. "Wally hacked into my MySpace page and changed my picture to a donkey face!"

"But I was just trying to let everyone know the truth," the blue skinned boy protested. "You're a jackass!"

"Stop!" I bellowed. The two froze in their spots. I stared at them incredulously. Why on earth would they plague me with their petty problems? Did they really think I card? Don't they know I just started this school for the tax breaks? Do they really believe all that nonsense about brotherhood with the humans?

"Get the hell out of my office!" I yelled. The boys ran.

My mind was too frenetic to concentrate on the search for Henchman. I rolled over to my liquor cabinet to poor myself a warm, soothing glass of cognac. When I opened the door, I was horrified to see the cabinet was empty. There was a single playing card. A joker.

"Gambit!" That Cajun bastard.

Fuming, I headed downstairs to the liquor supply room. As I was passing the front door, Wolverine called out to me.

"Hey Chuck, there's some head case and a hot broad to see you," he shouted. "Says they're with the national brain institute or something."

A was about to tell him to blow them off. The last thing I wanted to deal with was some pain in the ass solicitors, when I changed my mind. Perhaps harassing door to door salesmen would be just what the doctor ordered. I could make them prance around like chickens or have them bark like dogs.

I went to the door and gasped. Standing there . . floating rather, was a disembodied brain in a jar. There was indeed a cute woman next to him, but she was rather hard to properly appreciate with that brain bobbing next to her.

Before I could recover from my surprise, the woman touched something to my head and I was unconscious. When my awareness returned, I was rather dismayed that I too was just a brain floating in jar.

As Zartan and his Dreadnoks lay scattered about the pavement, groaning in pain, I rolled closer to Mystique. Wolverine kept popping his claws in and out.

"Tell me, Mystique, who hired you to set up Jon, the Intergalactic Gladiator?" I asked her.

"Suck my balls!" she screamed at me.

I must say, I was a little taken aback by her vulgarity. "First of all, Mystique, that kind of imagery and language is completely inappropriate here in a public setting where children might happen by. This isn't a Max comic, you know. Second, in case you haven't noticed, I don't think you have the right equipment to allow for that kind of activity."

With a sharp laugh that sounded more like a snarl, Mystique's body transformed into . . Fabio.

"I'm still not quite convinced that would satisfy the anatomically necessities to permit your directive," I told her. "I mean he is a male model."

Fabio scowled and slowly changed back to Mystique. "Get bent, Xavier. I'm not telling you anything!"

I couldn't help the smirk that crossed my lips. Rolling close to her, I reached behind her ear and pulled off the psi-blocker. Inspecting it, I saw that it had Magneto's mark on it. I crushed it between my fingers. The look of panic on her face gave me a warm, tingling feeling inside.

Telepathically I reached into her mind. She tried desperately to surpress the indetity of the person who hired her. What she didn't realize, and to be fair, most people don't, is that such action merely draws attention to what a person wants hidden. It makes mind reading much easier.

"Henchman hired you?" I said in surprise. "Of Local 432? The one who's always trying to negotiate for dental coverage? The one who stole Magdelina from me? Hmm, that could explain things. Maybe it's time to pay the Beekeeper a little visit."

"Say goodbye, Xavier!" snarled Mystique. "Shoot him on three!" she barked to Zartan and his Dreadnoks. "One . . two . . "

"Wait a moment, Mystique," I interrupted. "Don't I get a last request?"

She stared at me hard and then let a long sigh. "What is it you want?" she finally asked.

"I'd like to say goodbye to my X-Men. I could just make a quick . ."

"No!" she shouted. "One . . two . ."

"Wait!" I yelped. "I . . I'd like to say goodbye to my step-brother, Juggernaut. We have a lot of unresolved issues and . ."

"Forget it, Xavier! One . . two . ."

"No! Mystique . . there's something I never told you!"

"Stop wasting my time."

"But it's really important!" I pleaded.

"Fine. What?"

"I . . I'm your father."

"What? No you're not. My father was Vlad Darkholme."

"Oh, right. Sorry. I was thinking of someone else."

"Damn you, Xavier! Now you die. Everyone shoot him! One, two, thr-"

*SNNIKKTT!!*

A sharp metal on metal sound split the night. A sound like blades being unsheathed. A sound I knew well.

In a blur of blue and yellow, Wolverine's claws crashed through the Dreadnok's weapons. Before they knew what had hit them, their instruments of death lay shattered on the ground, cleaved by adamantium blades. Zartan, seeing Wolverine as the bigger threat, fired his gun at him. Logan ducked the first two shots and leaped at his prey. A third shot blasted through his shoulder but Wolverine ignored it. He smashed hard into Zartan, sending him flying unconscious into a brick wall.

"Oh, that's just great!" Mystique spat. "I'm finally about to kill an X-Man and you have to show up."

She threw her gun down in disgust and surrendered without a fight. Obviously she had been through this too many times to bother wasting her time in battle. I rolled up to her, a big grin on my face.

"You see I was just stalling you until the reinforcements I had telepathically summoned could arrive," I gloated.

"Good for you," Mystique replied, with undisguised loathing.

"Now then, why don't you tell me who hired you to discredit Jon, the Intergalactic Gladiator?"