PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT:

The following is a transcript occured between my beta, Jenn, and my muse, Logan. Jenn's comments are bolded and Logan's comments are italicized. What follows after the transcript can be best described as parody.

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First thing that's gotta fuckin go - Pansy assed cryin. What in HELL is that about? I mean, have a little self control for *censored*'s sake. Suck it up, bub!

Go Logan. Tell 'em.

And what's all of this touchy-fuckin-feely crap? Since WHEN have I gotten in touch with my inner child without serious coercion? Not to say that I can't be romantic, not to say that I can't be sensitive, but hell, I do it with a certain amount of distinctive flair, wouldn't you think?

I'm not a backwards bluefields hick, ykno? But you see me in Rio? In Madripoor? You wouldn't fuckin recognize me, darlin. I'm as smooth as fuckin silk, tricky as a viper and twice as manipulative than anything you've ever seen. And I do it with flair, my friend, with flair.

Yes, baby. I know. I do. Flair. Yes, baby. I know this.

I could rule the roost at the mansion if I chose to, but I don't. I let Slim do his thing because he's reasonably good at it and cares about the cause more than I do. He deserves a chance at being in charge, and so long as he doesn't screw it all to hell or die on me, I let him and Ro lead, that's fine. I have commitments elsewhere anyway. But when it comes down to it, we know. We all know. Chuck knows, Ro knows, Red knows, the Cajun, Beast, iceboy, Rogue, everybody knows. And when push comes to shove, I shove back. Everybody knows. I don't swear because I have to. I swear because it's fun.

We know, Logan. You are the badass.

It's not even that, babe, tho I'm tellin ya, it warms the cockles of my apparently hypersensitive weepy pink wearin heart to hear you say it.

It's got nothing to do with being a badass, even tho it's damn fun. Damn fun. It's just that I'm the best at what I do. No two ways about that. And I do a hell of a lot.

I'm glad I can make you happy. You're about to fuck the daylights out of Marie.

I do Marie, apparently. ::nods:: I can live with that. She's a good kid. I could love her, I'm sure.

Shit, and it's not that I'm above showing emotion, or having the emotions to show. But I do have my dignity, besides any sort of pride that might be involved. Can't I show that I adore a girl without collapsing on her shoulders crying torrential tears?

Logan, I have NEVER denied you are the coolest X-Man ever. That you are the very epitome of X-ness. That you are perfectly capable of showing love and affection without once descending into *censored*…

::grin:: I know, darlin. I'm just venting, is all. This has been pissin me off for far too long.

::nods:: Yea. That's it. What is this anyway? A soap opera? Where's all the melodrama comin from? Jubes?

Did I say venting? Typo. Meant ranting.

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"Logan? Logan, that you sugar?"

::dejected sniff::

"Logan, I can see the lump under the covers. You're not foolin' anyone."

"Go away."

"Come on, sugar. Why don't you just... Logan? My God, Logan..."

::another truly pathetic sniffle::

"You are not doing what I think you're doing, are you honey? I mean, this has gone ENTIRELY too far, baby."

"You're just saying that because you don't really understand me. No one here understands me. Everyone hates me."

"Logan, baby, don't cry, sugar. It's really unbecoming."

"See? See? You DON'T really care about me. You just want me to be a… a… a badass. Everyone just wants me to be the scapegoat. Everyone."

"No, sugar, that ain't it..."

"Yes! Yes it is! Stop it! Stop the lies! Stop the insanity! It's all around me, even here!"

"..."

"Scott blames me for seducing Jean. That was totally not what happened, buttercup. She was horribly dissatisfied with him and had been for some time. She was looking for an excuse and I was present and accounted for."

"You banged her every day for two weeks, sugar. If I were Scott, hell, if I'd not been sleeping with Remy and St. John at the time, I'd'a killed ya, sugar."

"Well, yes, it was rather a long tryst as things go, but I was swept up in the moment, feeling particularly vulnerable myself. Do you have any idea what it did to me to realize that you were in a manage et trois with those two? I nearly had a heart attack, sweetums."

"Logan, I hate to point out the obvious here, but you'd heal."

"But the pain in my heart will never go away."

"Nah sugar, you'd heal if I stuck a fireplace poker through it."

"No, sweetheart, apple of my eye, daughter of my heart, love of my life... I meant the emotional pain of seeing you, the woman I adore, sandwiched in between fireboy and the Cajun, both covered head to toe and you naked as the day you were born. I wanted to kill them, slowly while I ravished you."

"And if you had sugar, I would have cheered. You didn't."

"I know, Oh Woman Who Owns The Keys To My Heart. I know. I felt so remorseful over such horrible thoughts that I couldn't bear to be seen. My visage was truly more detestable than anything else, a frightful thing no one should be subject to, if I could wish such things upon you when you were obviously so very happy."

"Well, yea, you try having a fifteen minute orgasm and see how sad you are."

"See? I could never give you that. My inadequacy knows no bounds."

"Uh, sugar? When did you turn into such a fuckin pansy? The you in my head wants me to put you out of your misery so I can at least have the claws. You cry any more and I may take that plan-o-action under consideration."

The end.