Cyclops gets lucky

Oh man, tonight is my big date with Sylar! I am so nervous I feel like I’m going to disolve into a pool of goo. Normally when I have some big challenge facing me, I go to Professor Xavier for advice. Not with girls though. He only seems to get lucky with freaky space alien chicks. Sylar is like the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. I need a guy that has experience making it with total 10s. I called Wolverine.

“What’s up, Chuck?” he answered in that cool Canadian gutteral snarl of his.

“Uh, this Cyclops,” I told him.

“Then why does the caller ID say you’re Charles Xavier?”

“Well, it seems like no one ever answered the phone when I used my own name.”

“Good point. So why are you bothering me?”

“I have like this big date tonight with this totally hot chick and, well, I’m really nervous. I was hoping you could give me some advice.”

“Sure, sure. I got just the thing for you, bub. The most important thing is that you’ve got to be relaxed when you’re with the dame. Makes you seem confident and aloof. Chicks dig that. Now to make sure you’re going to be relaxed on your date, you have to, uh, relief your tension before you meet her.”

“Relief my tension? How do I do that?”

“Come on, Cyke. Jennie said you were an expert. You know . . polish your knob. Wax your pole. Jerk your chain. Choke your chicken. Spank your monkey.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Jeez! Hang 10 with your big ben! Play your skin flute! Sharpen your pork sword!”

“You lost me, Wolverine.”

“Masturbate, you idiot!”

And then the line went dead. I thought about it for a moment and realized it sounded like pretty good advice. Doing that always relaxes me. Before every big battle with Magneto I always did that once or twice. It really helped me get into my zone.

As soon as I had finished up, there was a knock on my door. Confused, I opened the door to find Sylar standing there, smiling.

“I, uh, thought I was suppose to come get you in half an hour?” I said awkwardly.

Sylar had this weird look on her face, like I had just ripped a wicked fart or something. She was staring at my ear.

“I, like, couldn’t wait to get started studly, but it looks like you might need a minute. And maybe a dust buster or something.”

“Uh, no I’m good, thanks. Let’s go. You look really hot, by the way.” I couldn’t believe how relaxed I felt around such a totally bitchin’, half naked knock out like Sylar. Wolverine really came through for me.

I led Sylar out to the nearby field where I was keeping the X-Jet in stealth mode. I could see she was impressed with my plane. We got into the cockpit and I flew her to Washington, DC.

I figured the city at night would make a cool back drop to our date. As we hovered over the White House, I microwaved the Chicken McNuggets I had brought.

“Isn’t this romantic?” I asked as I slide an arm over Sylar’s broad, muscular shoulders.

“Say, does thing have weapons?” she asked excitdely.

“Uh, sure. Surface to air missiles, air to air missiles, forward mounted guns, lazers . .”

“Ooh, how do the missiles work??”

“You, uh, just aim with that stick and press the red button there.”

Before I could stop her, Sylar reached out and pressed the red button. A missile shot out from under the wing and slammed into the White House, vaporizing it. Sylar had the broadest grin on her face.

“Totally awesome!” she shouted, moving the aiming control and firing on the Lincoln Memorial. In moments, it was just a pile of ashes.

“Uh, maybe you should stop doing that,” I suggested. “This stuff is improtant.”

“I am so totally hot right now!” Sylar exclaimed. Her whole body just kind of shuddered. There was a mad gleam in her eye as she turned to look at me. For some reason, her gaze was focused on my face, just above my eyes. “I’m sorry Cyclops, but I have to eat your brain.”

“If that means what I think it does, no problem!” I said as I unzipped my superhero pants. “Believe you me, no reason to apologize!”

As I pulled down my pants, Sylar reached out and pressed the end of her long index finger against my forehead. I realized that my head was getting very warm where she was touching me. My skin was getting hotter and hotter, like I was catching on fire.

A piercing wail suddenly filled the cockpit.

“Agghh!! What the hell is that??” Sylar sqweeked. “It worse than whole squad of cheerleaders on the rag!”

I checked the scanner. “We have two F-18s closing in.,” I toled her. “They have radar lock.”

“Crap! Can’t you, like, blast them or something?”

I rammed down on the stick, the plane’s control stick that is, and floored it. Then I flipped on the stealth mode. After a few moments, the F-18s had lost us.

“Oh Cyclops, that was, like, even more scrumptious than the time I almost blew up New York. I want you right now! Well, your brains at least.”

Again with the brains. That is code for my pork sausage, right? I figured it was time to play it safe. I set the X-Jet down in a nearby park and we got out. There was a pack of Boy Scouts camping out there. Sylar’s eyes started to get misty.

“Cyclops, this is the best date ever!”

And then she ran over to the Scouts and started to eat their brains. Weird. Hopefully we’ll be getting busy when she’s done with the kids.