Jon and Nightcrawler: On The Run

“Alright then, is everyone ready?” Professor Xavier asked. “Good luck racers. Ready . . set . . GO!”

Nightcrawler and I looked at each other and simultaneously yelled out “Empire State Building!” Yep, we’ve got the makings of a great super hero team going on here. Well, either that or we could go to vaudeville.

“It ist only a few blocks,” Nightcrawler said. “Zat vay, ve head South.”

“Do we run or get a cab?” I asked.

“Ever try to get a cab in New York? Zat’s not going to happen.”

So we ran. We ran past Strawberry Fields and the zoo. We ran past the sheep meadow, the pond, and the Tavern on the Green. We ran and ran.

“Are we going the right way?” I huffed to my partner.

“Uh, jah,” he answered. “Ve’re almost to zeh information booth.”

“This running’s for the birds,” I puffed. “Wait a minute.”

Minutes later, we were leaping over traffic on a couple of “borrowed” horses. It was actually kind of fun, cabbies were shaking their fists at us, a couple of teens in bright, baggy nylon clothing who were spinning around on a piece of cardboard were forced to dive out of the way, and a nerdy old man scurried away from us, shifted his glasses, then his tie, then grabbed his young Asian wife’s hand and went into a deli.

Shortly after that, we were riding in a gondola towards our destination.

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” I asked Nightcrawler.

“Ja, sure I’m sure.”

Finally, we were at the base of the Empire State Building.

“Zis vill be easy for me,” Nightcrawler said. “I can climb up zese valls no problem.”

The blue-furred mutant leapt up to the third story and quickly scaled the side of the wall. He was soon out of my eyesight. I was a little winded from all that running and horseback and gondola riding, so I pulled my hat off and wiped the sweat from my forehead.

“There you go,” a nice lady dropped a couple bucks in my hat. “Get yourself something to eat.”

“Uh, thanks!” I said.

With a bamfing sound and an implosion of smoke and sulfur, my partner appeared next to me.

“Ve are going to Minneapolis next,” he said.

We ran to JFK as quickly as we could, but unfortunately we just missed the flight.

“Aw crud,” I said while looking up at the plane taking off.

“I know a pilot here,” Nightcrawler suggested. “I bet ve could borrow his plane, ja?”

“OK,” I replied. “Sure.”

Moments later, we were winging our way west to Minneapolis.

“I think we’re a little behind,” I said to Nightcrawler. “How should we get from the airport to the Mall of America?”

“That’s a’right, mate,” his pilot buddy replied cheerily. “You can use the parachutes, oi!”

“Airborne!” I yelled out. “This takes me back to my Green Beret days!”

“You vere a Green Beret?” Nightcrawler asked.

“Well, I wore a green beret,” I replied. “I wasn’t a Special Forces soldier inasmuch, you know, per se.”

“Vhat have I gotten myself into?”

Fifteen hundred feet over the mall of America, we got ready for our jump.

“Open yer chute roight away, boyos!” the pilot laughed. “Yer so low that if the main fails and you panic, you’re gonna go splat, oi!”

We hurled ourselves out of the side of the plane and pulled our ripcords. Our chutes opened and we floated down to the roof parking lot. After hitting blacktop, we quickly shed the harnesses for the parachutes and raced into the giant construct.

“OK, here’s the Build-A-Bear workshop, right here on the first floor near the P.B. Loco Peanutbutterlicious Café and the QVC store” I said. “I can make the bear. I think I’ll be good at it because I have the heart of a child. You know, not literally though, like in a jar or something, because then Stabler and Benson would be after me, you know?”

“Oh just go already!” Nighcrawler pushed me to the workshop.

I knew the kids these days wanted something flashy and fun. So I quickly threw a bear together using pieces that I figured the little tykes would really dig.

“What’s that?” asked one kid.

“It’s a Gladiator Bear,” I said. “You know, because I’m an Intergalactic Gladiator.”

“You’re a what?” asked another kid.

“An Intergalactic Gladiator,” I repeated.

“What are you, like a Go-Bot?” asked still another kid.

“Go-Bots are gay,” said the first. “They’re Gay-Bots!”

“Is that why the bear is all yellow and red?” asked the second kid. “’Cuz he’s gay?”

“No, he’s not gay,” I answered. “And a person – or bear’s – lifestyle choice doesn’t matter. Hey, the Power Rangers are brightly colored.”

“Does he turn into a Power Ranger?”

“Well no. But he does have this sword.”

“That sword’s gay,” said a kid.

“Will you stop saying gay!” I yelled.

“I think he’s cute,” said a sweet little girl in the back.

“Really?” I asked. “You like him?”

“Yeah, he looks fun!”

“Cool,” I answered. “Here, you want him?”

“Yeah, I’m going to have hours and hours of fun with this guy,” she said. “This is the best bear ever. NOT!”

All the kids started laughing. My shoulders slumped and I walked out of the day care center.

“Here, use zis,” Nightcrawler handed me a plush doll.

“This is Wolverine, though,” I said while looking at it.

“Ja, but zat’s all zeh kids vant now days. Some even want to be him.” My mutant friend shuddered at the thought.

I grabbed the Wolvie doll and held it up so the kids could see it.

“Who wants a Wolvie?” I asked real loud.

All the kids jumped up and started shouting “Me me me me me me!”

I tossed it out to them. Like hungry, stupid sharks, the kids all dove for the doll. “There ya go. Let’s get to the Pit Stop!”

We ran out the doors and down the street to the hotel.