Jean and Cyclops Get Bogged Down

"Hello, uh, is this the Boggs residence?" Scott asked lamely as the paint-chipped door finally opened, "we were hoping to speak to you about your son, Elliot."

"Is everything alright?" The woman before him asked. Upon closer inspection, he realized she was about their age, clearly a sibling of Elliot's or something to that effect. Her auburn bangs formed a perfect straight line across her forehead and she was dressed in a black crop top, her midriff exposed.

"Oh everything's fine," Jean interrupted, Xavier's training taking over, "we were just hoping to speak with your parents about any 'changes' Elliot may be going through right now." After much trial and error, she had found talking euphemistically about mutant powers, especially to human members of the family was often a good way to break the ice.

"Hmm, I don't have any those," the girl replied, not missing a beat.

"You don't have any...parents?" Scott tried to clarify.

The girl shook her head, "but I've been practicing for Elliot's next show. Are you here for the performance?"

"No, I don't think that's what we...Oh," Jean started, but before she could finish the spritely girl turned away, leaving the door wide open as Jean watched her strut. Her round bottom was on full display, its plush cheeks sticking out of a black thong beneath a straining pair of fishnets.

"Um, do we follow?" Scott asked warily. Jean peered inside looking left and right, before taking a cautious step through the door. No sooner did her foot touch the ground did she jump back, having stepped on someone lying on the ground.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," her foot had come down on a supine older man just laying there in the entry way. Dressed in a worn looking business coat, he was fairly clean cut save for some stubble growing on his face, but despite Jean's earnest apology he did not reply.

"Um...hello?" Jean tried again. Still no response.

"Dear God. Is he alive?" Scott bent down, a hand on his red glasses as he pressed his ear to the man's chest. "I can hear him breathing, but Jean do you want to...,"

"Way ahead of you," the redhead replied, pressing both hands to her temples as expanded her telepathic awareness to read the strange man's mind.

She could at least hear him thinking, but his inner voice sounded furtive and small as a rat.

"Wipe your feet, don't forget to wipe your feet. It's alright if you take off your shoes, just leave the dirt on me,"

"Hello," Jean reached out psychically "Can you hear me?"

The chattering voice stopped, but after a moment began again, refusing to respond, "don't think, just lie here. Not supposed to think, just supposed to welcome them in. Must keep the dirt off the carpet."

"What's going on?" She heard Scott ask from beyond.

"I'm not sure, it's like...he thinks he's a rug?" Jean supplied nervously.

"Come join us, the show is about to start," the girl from earlier called, her voice coming from another room just beyond. The two X-Men even heard muffled music start to play.

"Do we call this into the X-Mansion?" Jean turned to Scott, staring across the threshold.

Red energy pulsed from behind his shades as Scott Summers shook his head. "We will, but let's see what we can find out first." Jean nodded in agreement and the two stepped over the confused man, preparing to use their powers.

The room beyond had clearly once been a living room, but most of the furniture had been piled off to the side. Instead it was now dominated by a makeshift altar, thrown together with a bit of slapdash carpentry and piled high with melted candles and various mementos. Baby clothes, children's toys, a bust made out of paper mache, and pictures of Elliot stood atop the altar, glistening in the firelight as the girl who answered the door busied herself with a set of matches. Something large and lumpy sat next to her, hidden beneath a plaid table cloth.

"Lady and...Gentleman," the girl declared as the two entered the room. Jean and Scott could see a pair of kitchen chairs had been set upright among the rummage just opposite the girl, clearly where they were meant to sit for this so-called show. The two mutants moved towards them but remained standing, watching the girl now wearing a top hat as she posed among the ring of candles.

"While I regret to inform you, his Masterfulness, the Magnificent Magician and God, Elliot Boggs, will not be joining us this matinee," the girl said worshipfully, her back turned to the increasingly tense X-Men. " But I, his humble servant and understudy, Ava, will taking over for this show, as only a sexy magician's assistant can!"

So saying she spun around, showing off a confetti tube she had had between her legs. With an exultant flourish, she bent over and let it pop, showering her rump in bits of frayed paper.

"Now where did I put that wand, of mine?" Ava asked, her head peeking out from between her legs. "Oh wait!" the girl twirled around reaching inside her thong, to produce a collapsible wand from inside her pussy. Jean and Scott simply exchanged a look of quiet alarm.

"Nothing up my sleeve," she pulled daintily at her cuffs, before kneeling down to start pulling a train of colorful handkerchiefs from inside her mouth, making noises like she was giving a blow job all the way.

"Um, no thank you," Jean interrupted as the fellating assistant stuck out her tongue, licking the air suggestively in Scott's direction. The boyscout just scowled.

"Not your kind of tricks, eh?" The orange-haired girl scooted down to a backwards split, giving her butt a spank as she held the brim of her hat. "Let me show you one of Elliot's then instead." She snapped her fingers and a mannequin on wheels emerged from behind the altar, dressed in what looked like a police uniform.

"Behold, a normal cop uniform, belonging to one Neena Boggs-Thurman, here see the badge," plucking it from the mannequin she threw it into the audience, the glossy thing landing at Jean's feet. "You would be forgiven for assuming these belonged to an officer of the law, that's what I thought when I heard someone knocking at our door." Ava pantomimed staring out a window, making siren noises with her mouth. "Elliot, careful Aunt Neena's outside and she;s brought the police," she whimpered, standing on her tip-toes. "'Not to worry,' he replied, 'I just ordered...a pizza.'"

Pulling the tablecloth aside, the hunched figure beneath it was revealed to be a naked slightly older woman. Her face looked red and overheated as she held her knees over her head, the rest of her body covered in tomato sauce and melted cheese.

"What's your name, darlin'?" The magician's assistant smiled manically.

"Neemna...Thurman," the woman murmured, a slice of salami slipping down one eye like a loose eye patch.

"Huh like the badge?" Ava mugged to the audience, "I don't suppose you're a police officer?"

"Nno...,"

"Someone's aunt?" Ava asked again.

The overheated woman shook her sloppy head, sauce dribbling down her hair, "I'm jus' ta Domino's pizza,"

"Well you sure had me fooled," Ava smirked, sticking poking a finger into Neena's boob to squish around the toppings. "Ooh, still warm." The food-covered woman just groaned, her body pink and slimy with the pile of consumables, clearly the remains of someone's fridge and pantry with multiple types of cheese and sauce. Jean couldn't help but notice they were melted, meaning Neena been cooking herself somehow for god knows how long.

"It became a bit of a problem, you see. Other officers kept wandering by to claim Aunt Neena wasn't a pizza, but don't worry, Elliot took care of all that. And now when we call 911, we get free delivery," Ava giggled, suddenly holding up her knife, ready to strike the warped officer. "Now watch what happens when I grab a slice."

A blast of concussive red energy knocked the weapon from her grasp, sending the top-hatted performer reeling as Cyclops took the stage.

"Time for a curtain call," he said, glasses still at the ready to put this priestess in her place. "Jean can you help Officer Neena out?"

"Nggh, I'm trying but it's just like the man," the X-Woman grimaced trying to convince Neena telepathically she wasn't food. "Her thoughts seem to be consumed by only thinking of herself as pizza. I don't know what to do."

"Did Elliot do this with his powers?" Scott demanded, staring down at the Ava, ready to optic blast at any moment. "Where is he now?"

"I...I...I don't know," the girl begged, "he just said he'd be back in a few days. Told me to look after his stuff: the mat, the pizza, the lamp."

"What lamp?" Scott demanded.

"Scott, over here," cried Jean.

In the room just beyond, another scantily clad woman stood frozen on one leg, her body wrapped in glowing white Christmas lights. A crown of pale wires were in her hair, spooling down around her where they were draped across her arms and ample tits. A greater modicum of awareness than the others, she seemed to preen and pose at their gaze, a dumb smile forming on her face below her vacant eyes.

"It's just a sexy lamp," Ava spat, "I mean, sorry Elliot's sexy lamp."

Plainly resembling Ava, Scott surmised this must be her mother and reached forward to stroke her illuminated hair. The woman just jiggled and stuck out her breasts, clearly expecting to be fondled.

"Where--is--Elliot?" Jean psychically pushed again, trying to catch the glowing woman off-guard. "You're not a lamp, tell us something we can use!"

From beneath the florescent bulbs, the woman seemed to experience a moment of lucidity, making eye contact with Jean.

"What am I doing? Oh god, Elliot...please, he left me like this. Took his girlfriend with that woman. Wait, not girlfriend, took his...his..."

"What woman?" Jean pressed, grasping at their first clue all day.

"Not a girlfriend...not a mother...just a lamp...I can be replaced with a sexy lamp...I'm a sexy lamp...Imma...Imma...I'm." But the moment was gone, the woman's psychic programming reasserted itself as her thoughts became a swirl of nonsense.

Jean closed her eyes and winced, releasing a psychic bubble that emanated from her head causing Neena, Ava, and the mother to black out. Catching her in his arms, Scott lay the lamp-lady down gently, all three women now sleeping soundly by the makeshift Elliot altar.

"We need to find that boy," Scott said sternly, surveying the area until he found what he was looking for: a family portrait depicting the rug, the lamp, the pizza, and the magician's assistant smiling next to an auburn haired man. "If this is what he does to his own family, I don't want to know what he does to strangers."

"Scott over here," Jean beckoned him, she was by the kitchen table, a pile of open mail strewn about atop it. Levitating the papers she started to skim, hunting for any other clues she could find.

"See anything?" Scott asked, trying to follow along, but knew his girlfriend was far more efficient while in the zone.

"Oh god," Jean paused, holding up a letter, "I think we found our woman." She passed it to Scott, who quickly read the words:

"I'll be in touch. Don't find me, I'll find you," signed Raven Darkholme.

"Raven? Principal Darkholme!" Scott spat, crushing the piece of paper, his eyebrows raised, "but that means...,"

"Mystique," Jean confirmed, folding the letter back up before stuffing it in her pocket.

"What do you think she wants with him?" Scott wondered.

"Nothing good," Jean sighed. "But it looks like we need to get to the Brotherhood Boarding House."

"Whoa whoa whoa, what are we supposed to do there?" Scott asked, "I don't want him to turn you into lawnmower or something worse."

"I don't know," Jean shook her head, "but the Professor said Elliot's powers are telepathic. With him gone right now, I'm our best hope of stopping that madman." She looked over to Scott sadly, "will you cover me?"

"Always," he clasped her hand. "Get to the car, it's time we payed the Brotherhood a visit."