Golden Snitch and The Wolverine.

The Mutant Problem

I love holidays. They are so much fun and you get to be around people you care about. St. Patrick’s Day was always my favorite. My Grandma used to make corned beef and cabbage and Irish soda bread. It all tasted so good. She would take me out and get me a pretty green dress and we would dance and play in her big yard all afternoon until dinner was done. She was the one who taught me how to Irish dance and she was the one who actually loved me. My time with Gran was the best. So when I had four friends I told them I was planning a perfect day. They agreed without question so I saved up and bought everything I would need for dinner.

So on March 17th I woke up and drove my motor cycle to Chrystal’s place. She actually had a house and her parents were out of town so she had offered us her kitchen for our use. I arrived around 8 o’clock and used the spare key under the urn out front. I had driven from the college to the suburbs and I was cold, so I hurried in and kicked off my combat boots, dropping my leather jacket and ‘fantasy pak’ on the couch. I walked into the kitchen and took a second to revel in the marble counter tops and dozens of cabinet and drawers, all filled with equipment to make cooking easier. Crystal had shown me where everything was a few days before so I got started right away. It was almost noon before I had everything ready to start cooking.

I heard footsteps and voices upstairs and got out a frying pan and eggs. A few minutes later Pietro and Crystal came down in pajamas and t-shirts. They lived together when Crystal’s parents were out of town, which was a lot, and they had been doing just fine so far. Crystal was sweet, nice and sensitive. She was also rich and got anything she wanted, except her parents love. Which is why she needed us so much. She ran away once. Stayed in our dorm for a week, but her parents didn’t even notice, so when she went home she said it was a sleep over and hadn’t run away since. She was a good girl, but hated her perfect life.

She smiled when she saw me cooking breakfast and took over so I could start cleaing up my mess. I finished fairly quickly and put the roast in the oven. It would slow cook for six hours, then we would eat it. The three of us sat down to breakfast and ate quietly talking about stuff and things until about two, which is when Ana showed up. I went and got cleaned up and changed and we watched the parade on TV, played some games, called friends, and had a great time with just us. We ate dinner round six and then we hit the town.

We went to a proper Irish pub and met a bunch of great people all decked out in green. Ana met this chick named Robin Sherbert or something, and Pietro met some guys from another track team and they hit it off. Crystal and I were dancing until some guy tried to put his hands on her. I may have broken his nose, I couldn’t tell, but he got the idea. We all met back up and did some shots, laughing and being Irish, and they even convinced me to dance, everyone watched and cheered for me as my feet danced across the floor, and then Ana joined, copying my moves.

I got separated from them somehow, and ran into this guy. He was tall, maybe six foot, but he looked really hot through my beer goggles. I hadn’t had that much to drink, but I had had enough. I started talking to him, but he didn’t seem interested. He was wearing faded jeans and a brown leather jacket. He also had these dog tags that look really old and worn out. His hair was really weird. Like wolf ears, which looked really stupid. I tried to be polite.

“So what’s your name, soldier boy?” I asked over the loud fiddles. He glared at me and even through my alcoholic insanity I knew he was upset. Good. I smirked at him picked at the tags, holding them up by the chain so he could see the twin plates. He snatched them away and shoved them down his wife beater. He started to walk away muttering something about and elf. I shrugged it off and kept dancing.

Then I met this other guy Kurt. He was German and had a really thick accent. He was looking for some guy named Logan. He sounded like soldier boy and I said I had seen him but didn’t know where he went. Kurt refused to touch me, and had this funky watch on. He seemed worried, but I told him to relax and blow off some steam. I grabbed two shots as they passed by. A loud ‘bamph’ sound came from behind me, but this was a party, on Saint Patty’s day, so I didn’t pay attention. The smell of sulfur was gross though. I turned to offer Kurt the drink, but he was gone. I shrugged and drank the shots.