Friday, June 20, 2008

Xavier strikes a pose

I drummed my fingers inpatiently on the arm of my wheelchair. Pose for pictures, Jon says. I haven't sat for a picture since the dust jacket of my last book. I detest having my picture taken. If you had lost all your hair at an early age, you would understand how I feel.

There was a tentative knock on my door and then it slowly creaked open. A woman in a dark pant suit entered.

"You?" I blurted, startled by the person standing there.





"Yes, well . . my plans for the rest of this year have changed. The next four years, actually. I have some time on my hands now so I'm trying different things."


I was so surprised by the identity of my camera man, er, person . . that I forgot to complain about having to have my picture taken.


"So, um, what did you have in mind for the shoot?" I asked.

An evil glint seemed to appear in the corner of Hillary's eye. Must have been my imagination, I suppose.

"Oh, I brought a wardrobe for you. Why don't you go behind the screen there and put the first one on."

"You mean . . we aren't going to a location? The Fire Pits of Valhalla or the Lave Lake of Laciviousness or the Mountain of Unnamable Suffering or something like that?"

"No, no. I'll shoot you right here." There was that glint again.

I looked at the first outfit. It seemed like a rather tasteful tuxedo. "I, uh, might need a bit of help putting this on. You see my legs don't work."

"Oh really? Then how do you explain Captain Koma getting your body to walk around when your brain was recently removed?"

". . you know about that?"

She nodded, with that same damn glint in her eye.

With a sigh I stood up out of my chair and carried the tuxedo behind the screen. When I came out, she had a digital camera in her hand.

"Very good," she said. "Now stand over there. Give me a smoldering, sexy look. Like James Bond. That's it."



"Not bad," she said aprrovingly. Now let's try the Dickens costume."

Dickens? Oh well.



"Creepy. Put on the sea captain's costume."

"You look very uncomfortable," Hillary said. "I don't think that's you at all. Let's see . . you're a teacher, right? Try that one."




I could tell Hillary was surpressing a chuckle. "Do you have enough yet?" I asked.


"Not at all. Put that one on next."






"Ohh, extra spooky. How about we try some more emotion this time. Show me . . happy."




"Okay, forget happy. Let's try . . meditative."


"No . . show me . . freaky."



"These emotions aren't working at all. You have no acting talent whatsoever. Let's go back to the costumes. Put that one on."

"That one?" I asked doubtfully. "Are you sure this is necessary?"

"Do it!' she screeched. I grabbed the outfit.


"Yes, that's perfect!" Hillary said as she tossed the camera aside. "You really aren't anything more than another one of those pathetic, spandex clad Earth heroes. You all really think you can defend your pitifully little plaent with your pathetic powers. It's a laugh! You Earthlings are weak and puny and will fall before our might. Starting with you, Xavier!"

"What in heavens name are you talking about??" I asked, totally confused.

"This has all been a carefully laid trap, you fool!" Hillary bellowed as she changed shape before my eyes.


"The Skrull empire is invading your planet as we speak! It is my assignment to eliminate you. I took care of the real photographer assigned to this task. Richard Simmons didn't put up much resistance at all. I didn't even have to resort to violence. I just tossed a box of Twinkies in the shuttle craft's air lock and the fat fool ran in. Now he's eating space dust! Bwahahaahaa!"

I tried to use my psionic powers to shut down the Skrull's mind but it wasn't working for some reason.

"The flash on this fake camera was designed by Skrull scientists using superio Skrull technology to temporarily paralyze your psionic powers."

"Temporarily?" I asked. "For how long exactly?"

"Long enough for me to kill you!"

With that the Skrull pulled out some kind of energy weapon. I immediately dropped to the floor, grabbed the end of the rug and pulled it out from under him. Or her. I can never tell with Skrulls.

The alien crashed to the floor. With my lightening fast reflexes I was on him and grabbed his energy weapon. I was about to pull the trigger when I had a thought.

"Alright, Skrull," I said. "Before I shoot you, take some real pictures of me. I have a contest to win!"



8 comments:

Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator said...

Hillary's a Skrull!

I knew it!

Mr. Bennet said...

Jon, everybody knew that. But did you know Obama is a secret Skrull??

Kon-El said...

Wait he's that weird Squirel thing that keeps Flashing people from his trenchcoat?

Ciera said...

I liked the meditative pose the best :)

Jean-Luc Picard said...

Scary. I'll have to be careful in case she mistakes me for you.

Nepharia said...

So where are the pictures that s/he/it took there at the end? You didn't post them. I wanted to see those!

Professor Xavier said...

I've sent them in to Playgirl. They should be running next month.

Nepharia said...

I thought ALL your U.S.A., Earth presidential candidates were Skrulls?