"Please guys...it is jus' macaroni and cheeze. How bad could Emma possibly, er....mess it up?" The gen X crew was sprawled out in the livingroom, just outside the kitchen. They looked at each other and simultaneously knocked three times on whatever wood surface was available and not harboring old dishes. "That impression that I get", by the Mighty mighty bosstones was blaring in the backround.

'I'm not a coward I've just never been tested....'

"Mister Cassidy, will all due respect to Miss Frost, would you like that answer in essay or short answer form? I have about five single spaced, computer typed pages worth of reasons." Monet was curled up in a beanbag chair, her expression so compleately deadpan it was frightening.

"Yeah, like, remember the 'omlette incident'? Talk about nasty. They were MOVING! Artie and Leech wanted to keep the leftovers as pets for cripes sake!" Jubilee grimaced, and even Cassidy shuddered at the memory. Emma had blamed it on the eggs, and everyone had agreed as to keep peace. They had learned from their previous mistakes not to critisize her cooking too badly. There just might be worse evil in the universe.

*Oh please mates.....this stuff cant possibly be that bad. After all we've been through...*

"Shuttup now muchacho. You dont have to eat, so its not really concerning you. Unless of course..." An evil and mischevious grin crossed over Angelo's face. "You just happened to have dish duty." Even beneath his bandages, Jono's disbelief was apparent.

*You wouldnt! Thats inhumane!* He looked desparately from Paige to Sean for help. Both ignored his silent pleading looks.

"Besides, it cant be good to expose Artie and Leech to this sorta thing. Ah mean, they could be permanently warped...survive solely on microwave pizza rolls and candy an' such." Everyones eyes turned to Jubilee.

"Whaaaaat? You'd think there was something horribly wrong with what I eat!" More nonplussed stares. "Honestly people. When I was an X-man.."She broke off as whatever large objects were handy were launched at her by the rest of the group.

"NOT ANOTHER STORY!" The rest exclaimed unanimously. Emma poked her head out of the kitchen door.

"Food's almost ready!" She smiled cheerfully. As a whole, Gen X blanched white. The radio played cheerfully in the backround.

'Never had to knock on wood, and I'm glad I havent yet, because I'm shure it isnt good, thats the impression that I get...'

later

On any other night of the week the atmosphere surrounding the dinner table at Xavier's school for gifted youngsters, was nothing short of a chernobyl in miniture; a complete and utter unnatural disaster. On fancy dinner night when Lydia the maid/cook made dinner there were peas flying through the air at speeds only mutant teenagers could manipulate the other wise inamimate and mundane vegtibles into achieving. Carrots were shoved up Artie and Leechs noses and the mashed potatos always ended up in some poor victims hair. The steak was poked and prodded by a reluctantly omnivorous Monet until alow 'mooing' came from some unknown corner of the table and the meal was pushed away and left for...well, left-over night. Which in it self was a tempting of fate seeing as not all of the left-overs made it to the pot-luck night leftover menu and food had to be carefully inspected by it's devourer for any signs of mold or foul smells; which, when discovered were loudly broadcast over the table in excurciating and exagerated detail. Student cooking night will not be discussed in this fan-fic because of it's violent content, profanity, and grussome results. Aside from the usual inards stuffed in sheep stomach meals and odd concoctions that involve prepareing potato's in ways nature never intended them to be mistreated; Mr.Cassidy's cooking night was a celebrated event simply because he only knew the aforementioned recipes and refuseed to look in a cook book, resulting in the night affectionately being dubbed 'pizza-night'. However, Mr.C's night was always cast in shadows the same way, Sundays and the lastdays of vaction are becuase they are inevitably followed up by the next day which usually involved hard work, research, tough judgement calls, profanity insome cases, and on the day that fell inevitably behind Sean's say was Emma's cooking day. *DUM,DUM,DUM!*

"Did anybody else, like , just here music?"Jubilee broke the dead silence of the dining room that had fallen right behind the fallen hearts, which had landed in several turning stomachs, which were connected in a fashion to several pairs of eyes that had spyed Emma's 'Mac &cheeze speciallity cuisine'. It was pink. Not orange, that by a trick of light bulbs combined with candle light had some how managed to turn an ordanary enough looking pasta dish a pink-like tint. No, it was definetly pink. Not the type of pink that comes from combing white noodles with a pinch of red dye. No, it was defietly a 'bright-florestent-not-found-in-nature' hot pink. There was no response to Jubilee's half heard inqurey. No one seemed to be able to tear there eyes away from their plates where the large portions of pink mac and cheeze that Emma had so generously delved out lay seemingly inanimate. Seemingly.

"Well?" the white queen trilled in her sophisticated, cultured tones,"Isn't anyone going to try my 'Mac& Cheeze Supreme Cuisine'?"

"It depends if it's 'supreme' for being purposely pink or just because you touched it with your hands." muttered a low unnamable voice from the same unknown corner of the table where mysterious mooing took place on Lydia night.

Everyone heard, no one dared giggle, Emma's eyes slit and moved from side to side in her lovly face looking closely to see if she could catch the eye of the culprit or at least some one willing to respond to her earlier request for a taste-tester. Every eye at the table was down cast, even Sean wasn't braving this one. Everet, poor sweet, hapless, harmless, Everet lifted his fork half in bordom and half in curiousity, to poke at the squarish lumps that had risen to the tops of every bodies globbulous portions and remained suspended there. Of course Emma saw this immediately and fell on him like an hawk spotting a baby mouse emerging timidly from it's nest to take it's first breath of air, freedom, and life and was instantaeously intent on squishing it.

"EVERET!" she called out loud enough for everyone to jump. The notes of triumph rung clear in their ears making some weaker hearts cringe in the rib cages of their owner for the doom they spelled for their poor companion. Everet did cringe and clutched the delicately held fork in a death grip.

"Yes miss frost?" he asked looking her directly in the eye with raised brows that went along with his high hopes and innocent, pleading exprsions of mercy all which he sent through his eyes towards the recriminating eyes of his headmistress. In the deep brown pools of hope and innocence and pleas begging mercy Emma almost lost the nerve to ask what she was about to ask of the young boy accross the table from her. Almost, but she didn't make her millons by giving in to the bleeding hearts of the world; this was a lessen in character after all, Ev would set the example of obedience for all of her students and he would be remembered dearly if he didn't make it.

"Everet," Emma began clearly in her best teacher to student who is in need of correction, "Do not play with your food," She paused for effect, and it was well recieved. "Eat it."

There was a slight rustleing of cloth and shifting of eyes in sockets as everyone turned to see an extremely paled Everet staring blankly at his 'food'. He looked ashen, his normally dark- chocoalate skin had turned the color of a powdered cocoa-mix. "I...I...I,' he began not being able to come up with some thing fast enough and then an idea came to him so brilliant that it cut daziling rays of hope through his darkest despair. It was so luminous that he almost smiled giving himself away immediately to emma who narrowed her eyes wearily. he lifted a fork full of the goop from the pile that was begining to coagulate on his plate and began to raise it to his mouth; it made it a good portion of the way there when suddenly his death grip loosened the hand waivered and the fork slipped to the floor pink goop and all. "Oops!' he said his pride in his well laid plan swelling his chest but never surfacing on his now carefully constructed shocked face. "Sorry Ms. Frost! I'll go get some thing to clean it up with!"

"That's all fine and well Everet but first, TASTE the macoroni."

"B-b-but my fork! I can't eat it with a fork from off the floor and it's just not right to eat mac and cheeze with a knife! I tell you what I'll go get another one from the kitchen and be right back!"

Emma saw through his weakly disguised plan of escape and immediately quenched the already dieing spark of hope he had in his eyes. "No,no don't be silly. Use mine." She purred extending the clean, silver utensil toward him like a swords man would brandish a sword laid at the throat of his enemy. Realizing he was trapped Ev slowly reached out for the offered utensil praying for some form of devine intervetion to save him. Nothing happened, other than the fact that none of the other students seemed to be breathing, staring at him disbelievingly. With the uncanny thought of Emma dressed as a witch from Mac Beth huddled over the kitchen pot mumbling 'Eye of newt, tounge of dog', he once again dipped his fork into the pink, bubbling goo. The pile on the floor had begun to bubble, not a comforting thing when you're about to eat some of the gelatinous mass.

He moved as slowly as possible, desparately searching for a helpful mutant power to synch with. Pennance had run off as fast as she could when emma first began the dinner. Jubilee's pafs werent likely to do much other than anger the headmistress further. Skin's abilities would accomplish nothing. Monet...who knew, but he didnt want to even attempt it. Husking wouldnt do him any good. Artie and Leech's powers wouldnt get him anywhere either. Emma would block him from synching with her. THen he looked at Sean. Maybe, just maybe he could get out of this. Praying silently to whatever deity might be listening or care at that precise moment in time, he synched with his headmasters talent. Somehow Ev managed to get the 'food' into his mouth without gagging. The rest of the room stared at him in horror/delight/sick and twisted facination. Adjusting his voice to a pitch that would disintigrate the 'mac & cheeze' he hummed, then swallowed convulsively and gulped down his entire glass of Pepsi. After coughing a few times, he looked up to Emma. "Alright. Your turn. After all, the chef should taste her creation." He dared a glanse around the table. No one seemed able to move. There was a silent battle of wits going on and no one wanted to break the spell. Warped curiosity had to know if Emma could stomach her own food. Maybe there was salvation for them after all. And they knew that Ev would get them all for leaving him as a sacrafice to the first mouthful of the bubbling mystery pasta. But they all owed him, and knew it well. The first taste of any of her foods could leave one with sevear food poisoning, at the very least. Paige was still blocking memories of white queen's attempt at homemade potato soup.

Emma quickly realizing that she'd fallemn into her own trap quickly reached into the minds of every person at the table and put them in a state much like coma without awareness in time passage and then she did the following; stopped all the clocks in the scool which would later be blamed on mysterious unpluggings and power surges. Then she made a quick phone call typing the number she knew by heart from all those lonely single years ago before the students and before the hellfire club even. With out wasting any time on hesitation she set herself to the task of erasing all efforts that she had ever cooked any thing at all, which eventually led to her getting frustrated and throwing away every dish that had been at the table because apparently the pink had permeated into the very molecular structure of the ceramic dishes. She then erased all memory of the mac and cheese disaster, flipping her finger to several months of good 'telepathic-etiquette' and to Charles Xavier in general for sticking him with these miniture monsters. Just as she was finishing the door bell rang. She opened the door and similtaneously released all of the minds in the dining room who though, slightly dioreinted and shrugging it off as hunger/fear/dilerium that they were easily able to ignore, were other wise no worse for wear.

Emma triuphantly set the large cardboard box down on the table which was filled to over flowing with chinese food.

"YAY!" exclaimed all of the students!

"Yo, frosty! not that I'm complanin' or nothin but i thought you were makin' mac& cheeze?"

"REALLY Jubilation! I had no intention of it! to think I'd actually attempt something as domestic as that prepackaged garbage?" She emphasized her point with a light snort and began to devour her chinese.

Later that night Ev was admitted into the infirmery for throwing up what appeared to be hot pink chinese food. No one could figure it out except to say that maybe he'd eaten some thing that disagreed with his body chemistry in general which test samples sent to muir actually concured that he'd eaten something chemically unbalanced and was lucky to not be glowing. The report came with a little side note to the headmasters to watch out for any new emerging mutations.

For some reason from that day on Everet was allowed a bowl of cereal on Emma's cooking night instead of being forced to down one of her terrible(yet considerably more edible not to mention more chemically stable then her mac and cheeze.)concoctions. Though they griped and moaned the students themselves did not complain overly much as they felt an inexplicable penence was being paid to him for some great suffering he'd endured on their behalfs; Ev was too relieved about being excused from Em's dinner to ask questions and so all worked out in the end.

how ever there is another part to this story.

The glob of pink goop so carelessly dropped on the floor eventually worked it's way through the floor boards and disappeared into the wood work, growing and patiently biding it's time...

"I tell ya' I heard music! Ya' know that scary kind they play when a dramatic or scary thing is gonna happen?!"
"Yeah, right."
"I tell ya' I heard it!"
"Jubetica? Lay off the sugar babe it's messin' up your perceptions."