Categories > Cartoons > X-Men: Evolution > That Stupid School Project
“Ahhrrg!” Betsy wiped dirty water out of her eyes. “St. John Allerdyce if you jump in that puddle again I will take your face and rub it in the same puddle! Then I will get Dr. MacTaggart on the case!”
John stopped bouncing up and down in the large pool of water at the mention of the formidable woman.
“You wouldn’t really do that, would y’?” He asked, nervous.
“Oh yes I would!” Betsy told him as she tried to wring out her hair.
They continued to walk along under the lamp lit streets, each thinking their own thoughts. Of course, John’s thoughts were currently centered on all of the ways he could drive Betsy crazy without her killing him. It was not a long list. Throwing grass clippings at her had nearly gotten him killed. Tapping her on the shoulder had nearly gotten him killed. Constantly asking if they were there yet had nearly gotten him killed. Jumping in puddles had nearly gotten him killed. He was beginning to wonder if there was a pattern.
Betsy was wondering if John was naturally insane, or if hanging around with Kurt had pushed him around the bend. He seemed to be happy all the time, and that bugged her. People should not be permanently set on happy-bouncy-joy-joy in her opinion. Also, Betsy could still feel grass clipping still clinging to the back of her shirt, and that was not helping her temper at all.
“Soooo,” John began after a minute of silence, “what’s really with Kitty? You said she was beat up. How beat up? Bloody nose beat up, or pinched a bit and told never to do it again beat up?”
“Well,” Betsy told him, after thinking a bit, “she had a ton of dirt on her face, and a few scratches on her cheek. The only really suspicious thing is that she has a tiny bruise along her jaw, but it’s on the side of her face that doesn’t have any dirt on it.”
“Hmm, sounds like she was just pushed around, and then pushed into the ground. It’d fit with her story about her the ground attacked me story.” John mused, a ballpoint pen tapping his chin as he thought.
Betsy looked at him strangely, “How’d you know that?”
“Because I do.” John looked at Betsy as if she had grown two heads. “How d’you know that the grass is green? ‘Cause that’s how y’see it, right?”
“Okay,” Betsy shrugged, still a little worried by her house mate’s behavior, but she figured that it was just part of his insanity.
As if to prove her point John ran up to a lamp post grabbed a hold of the thin metal bar with one hand and began to swing around it. Betsy was fine with this form of “Johnny’s gone bonkers” until he tried to pull her along in his mad trip around the world.
“Hey, get off! John, I’m warning you! Yahhh!” Betsy cried as John did indeed let go of her.
The reason she screamed was that John was on his fifth revolution around the lamppost and Betsy went flying into a pile of freshly raked fallen leaves and mown grass. She got up spitting dead plants and with a glint in her eye that did not bode well for John, once she caught him. Luckily for the Aussie he was already running by the time Betsy managed to get her sights on him.
There was high speed chase through two boulevards, along one avenue, and it ducked into a private driveway for a while to throw the purple haired homicidal maniac off the scent. It eventually ended at the Institute gates with John frantically trying to type in the password and get up to his bedroom where he could hide behind the desk.
The gate began to open just as Betsy caught up with John.
“You little Aussie freak I’m going to ram you face in to the nearest wall! When I get done with you there won’t be anything more than a smear on the—uh—carpet?” Besty looked around at Dr. Moira MacTaggart, Professor Xavier, and Scott.
She removed her hands from John’s neck, and the poor Australian stopped gasping for breath and tried to straighten up and look more presentable. This only made the situation even more ridiculous to Dr. MacTaggart, as John was about a foot and a half taller than Betsy, and the image of the much shorter girl trying to kill the gangly boy made her want to laugh. However, she managed to keep her stern, teacher-y professional face on as she looked at the two students.
“An’ jus’ where have yea been all nit?” She asked, in her best Scottish accent.
“At The Wolverine,” John told her truthfully, as Betsy just put her hand over her eyes.
Suddenly the situation lost most of it’s hilarity in Moira’s eyes. “Yea were at WHERE?”
“Relax Moira,” the professor said in his calm voice, “I know Logan, he wouldn’t allow anything illegal to happen. Also, I believe that Mr. Allerdyce is working with the proprietor’s daughter, and that Miss Alder is a good friend of Miss Braddock. However, next time it would be nicer if you could announce your absence Miss Braddock.” Xavier told her as Betsy hung her head.
“However,” he continued, “As you were out without permission, nor a valid reason, according to Jean, I think that it would be for the best if you were restricted to the Institute for the rest of the week. As for you Mr. Allerdyce,” the professor turned to John who was trying to make himself small and insignificant, even though he was the tallest person there, except for Scott, “Obviously I must assume that Miss Braddock had a reason for trying to strangle you in front of the gates, so you shall also enjoy restriction for the rest of the week.”
Moira nodded emphatically, she turned around to wheel Professor Xavier back to the house. Scott was still looking dumbstruck at both John and Betsy. They looked back at him in a do you want to say something type of way. Finally Scott broke the silence.
“What just happened?”
John stopped bouncing up and down in the large pool of water at the mention of the formidable woman.
“You wouldn’t really do that, would y’?” He asked, nervous.
“Oh yes I would!” Betsy told him as she tried to wring out her hair.
They continued to walk along under the lamp lit streets, each thinking their own thoughts. Of course, John’s thoughts were currently centered on all of the ways he could drive Betsy crazy without her killing him. It was not a long list. Throwing grass clippings at her had nearly gotten him killed. Tapping her on the shoulder had nearly gotten him killed. Constantly asking if they were there yet had nearly gotten him killed. Jumping in puddles had nearly gotten him killed. He was beginning to wonder if there was a pattern.
Betsy was wondering if John was naturally insane, or if hanging around with Kurt had pushed him around the bend. He seemed to be happy all the time, and that bugged her. People should not be permanently set on happy-bouncy-joy-joy in her opinion. Also, Betsy could still feel grass clipping still clinging to the back of her shirt, and that was not helping her temper at all.
“Soooo,” John began after a minute of silence, “what’s really with Kitty? You said she was beat up. How beat up? Bloody nose beat up, or pinched a bit and told never to do it again beat up?”
“Well,” Betsy told him, after thinking a bit, “she had a ton of dirt on her face, and a few scratches on her cheek. The only really suspicious thing is that she has a tiny bruise along her jaw, but it’s on the side of her face that doesn’t have any dirt on it.”
“Hmm, sounds like she was just pushed around, and then pushed into the ground. It’d fit with her story about her the ground attacked me story.” John mused, a ballpoint pen tapping his chin as he thought.
Betsy looked at him strangely, “How’d you know that?”
“Because I do.” John looked at Betsy as if she had grown two heads. “How d’you know that the grass is green? ‘Cause that’s how y’see it, right?”
“Okay,” Betsy shrugged, still a little worried by her house mate’s behavior, but she figured that it was just part of his insanity.
As if to prove her point John ran up to a lamp post grabbed a hold of the thin metal bar with one hand and began to swing around it. Betsy was fine with this form of “Johnny’s gone bonkers” until he tried to pull her along in his mad trip around the world.
“Hey, get off! John, I’m warning you! Yahhh!” Betsy cried as John did indeed let go of her.
The reason she screamed was that John was on his fifth revolution around the lamppost and Betsy went flying into a pile of freshly raked fallen leaves and mown grass. She got up spitting dead plants and with a glint in her eye that did not bode well for John, once she caught him. Luckily for the Aussie he was already running by the time Betsy managed to get her sights on him.
There was high speed chase through two boulevards, along one avenue, and it ducked into a private driveway for a while to throw the purple haired homicidal maniac off the scent. It eventually ended at the Institute gates with John frantically trying to type in the password and get up to his bedroom where he could hide behind the desk.
The gate began to open just as Betsy caught up with John.
“You little Aussie freak I’m going to ram you face in to the nearest wall! When I get done with you there won’t be anything more than a smear on the—uh—carpet?” Besty looked around at Dr. Moira MacTaggart, Professor Xavier, and Scott.
She removed her hands from John’s neck, and the poor Australian stopped gasping for breath and tried to straighten up and look more presentable. This only made the situation even more ridiculous to Dr. MacTaggart, as John was about a foot and a half taller than Betsy, and the image of the much shorter girl trying to kill the gangly boy made her want to laugh. However, she managed to keep her stern, teacher-y professional face on as she looked at the two students.
“An’ jus’ where have yea been all nit?” She asked, in her best Scottish accent.
“At The Wolverine,” John told her truthfully, as Betsy just put her hand over her eyes.
Suddenly the situation lost most of it’s hilarity in Moira’s eyes. “Yea were at WHERE?”
“Relax Moira,” the professor said in his calm voice, “I know Logan, he wouldn’t allow anything illegal to happen. Also, I believe that Mr. Allerdyce is working with the proprietor’s daughter, and that Miss Alder is a good friend of Miss Braddock. However, next time it would be nicer if you could announce your absence Miss Braddock.” Xavier told her as Betsy hung her head.
“However,” he continued, “As you were out without permission, nor a valid reason, according to Jean, I think that it would be for the best if you were restricted to the Institute for the rest of the week. As for you Mr. Allerdyce,” the professor turned to John who was trying to make himself small and insignificant, even though he was the tallest person there, except for Scott, “Obviously I must assume that Miss Braddock had a reason for trying to strangle you in front of the gates, so you shall also enjoy restriction for the rest of the week.”
Moira nodded emphatically, she turned around to wheel Professor Xavier back to the house. Scott was still looking dumbstruck at both John and Betsy. They looked back at him in a do you want to say something type of way. Finally Scott broke the silence.
“What just happened?”
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