Mission Two: Hunger is Afoot

"Come on," Cyclops said, "you can tell me. Did you shoot him?"

"I already said no! I WANTED to shoot him, but The Company had someone else do it, apparently."

"Then, why did he yield us?" he asked.

"I have no idea!"

"Those stupid-looking pajama bottoms make your butt look big."

Okay, so maybe I had some idea why he yielded me, but I think it was a mistake. He can fly, that's a huge advantage in a race around the world. West can also fly. Ergo, he should have yielded Koma.

"It's time," I said to Scott. "Let's go."

"I'm hungry. Let's get some tacos," he replied.

"You had 30 minutes you could have spent eating something."

"But I wasn't hungry," he whined. "Now I am. I'm starving!"

"Well, I guess I could blow you up. That would give us another 30 minute yield, which is more than enough time for tacos. Do you want me to blow you up?"

He thought it over and finally sulked, "No."

A long drive and a short hover brought us both to The North Pole.

"Ooh, Santa!" Scott cheered as I read the detour. "Let's go with Santa! I've been really nice this year."

I knew that wasn't the case for me. I haven't gotten a present from Santa Claus since I was 3-years old. Ever since I first fired a gun, I've found my way onto his naughty list year after year.

"We'll do the unnecessarily harmful one."

"Awww!" Scott winced. "I wanted a train set!"

We made our way to the SHIELD outpost and were greeted by Nick Fury. "Alright, sissies," he said, "prepare to be nuked."

"Wait," Scott interrupted. "Will this hurt?"

"I won't lose any sleep over it," Fury replied. He motioned over to some SHIELD agents in hazmat suits as he exited the igloo.

The SHIELD agents approached us with a silver serving platter.

"Oh, boy. I hope it's tacos!" Scott chirped.

They removed the lid from the serving platter and revealed what looked like green, glowing ice cubes.

"Those are some weird looking tacos," Scott said, disappointed.

"They're not tacos, you idiot," I smacked him in the head. "They're green, glowing ice cubes."

We had a thorough rub down and were required to wait a few minutes for any side effects to show.

None did.

Fury entered the igloo and said, "Looks like you wimps lucked out. No effects."

We were about to leave when I noticed that Scott looked extremely tasty.


So, I bit him.

"Hey!" he screamed and slapped me. "Don't bite me. Not here."

"I have to eat human flesh," I replied. "Which is odd considering I don't usually like Indian food."

"It's the effects of the radiation," Fury said. "Just so you know, if either of you try anything with me, I'll blow your brains out and let the other one eat them." He waved his gun at us to make his point clear.

"I've got to eat somebody," I said. "Right now!"

"Relax, four-eyes," Fury aimed his gun at me. "It will all be over in an hour. Just everyone stay calm. What about you, one-eye? Got a hunger for some Fury meat?"

Cyclops smiled and replied, "Yes, sir."

I quickly pulled my gun on Nick Fury. "Listen up," I said, "I just want a hand. Something to hold me over while I wait for the effects to wear off."

He held his gun on me. "Not gonna happen."

"How about three fingers then?" I negotiated.

"No. The show producers don't want me killing the contestants, but if you try to eat me I will pull the trigger."

I switched my aim to the camera man who began to urinate, but like a professional, he kept the camera on me. "How about I just eat him?"

"Fine," Fury replied. "Just stay away from SHIELD personnel."

I approached the camera man who began trembling and crying. He yelled out, "Please don't! Eating a camera man causes you to forfeit the competition!"

"Is that true?" I looked at Scott, who simply shrugged. I looked over at Fury. He had no answer either. "Well, can we get Xavier on the phone?"

"No can do," Fury said, "Communication is scarce up here."

"I can't wait an hour," I said. "I have to eat somebody right now!" I aimed at Scott. "Sorry, but there's plenty more mutants where you came from."

"Hold it!" Fury hollered. "I may have something for you." He walked over to a mini-fridge, which seemed redundant being that we were in an igloo. Opening it, he pulled out a packaged foot.


"This was going to be my lunch," Fury explained, "but I can see you need it more than me. I'll hunt down a penguin or something."

"Aren't they only found in the southern hemisphere?" Scott asked.

"Yeah, I have a flying car."

I quickly bit into the foot, rudely neglecting to offer Cyclops any. Eventually, my manners returned and I asked, "Would you like some?"

"No, thanks," he replied. "But I could still go for a taco."

"You're not a cannibal?" Fury questioned.

"No," he answered.

"I thought you wanted my meat," he raised his patched-eye's brow.

"Umm....I...was...just kidding?" Scott responded.

"Then the radiation had no effect on you," Fury stroked his chin. "Interesting. Perhaps there is a correlation between the radiation in this ore and the radiation in your ocular blasts." He was very excited. "Maybe now I can leave this dreary place and get back to where the action is. I've been here for a week overseeing research on these ores. There are no movie theatres here, no bowling alleys. And it gets so cold here, you know how we stay warm? We have to all huddle together naked just to survive through the night. Yes, sir, I can't wait to get out of here."

"I'm feeling cold," Scott announced. "I might get frostbite."

Fury began unzipping his jumpsuit.

I quickly devoured the rest of the foot and said, "Wow, what a meal. That should keep me full until the radiation wears off. Let's get to the pit stop."

An almost-naked Fury handed us our next clue, detailing the location of the pit stop.

"Come on," I said to Scott. "We're going to Ice Station Zebra."

"But shouldn't we get a dose of Fury's body heat first? You know, to survive the elements?" Scott asked.

"No, let's go!"

"Gah," he complained, "no tacos, no Fury body heat. You are such a bore, Bennet."