DISCLAIMER: Four out of five stockbrokers recommend that you don't own Marvel Comics.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: What can I say? My sis pretty much held me at gunpoint. (Put the gun down, 'Thyst, just put the gun down ...) And the source of the inspiration for the alarm clock won't be noticed by all. :)

'Twas the early morning as four tiny feet waddled two chubby bottoms into the kitchen. Craving an hour of independence, the unusually fashionable lithe boys had set their Tommy Dreamer alarm clock just a few hours earlier than usual, rising prior to the sun at the insane cry of "E-C-F***ing-W!" Then the mischievous but abnormally adorable duo crept out from their biosphere treehouse and entered into Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters.

The green skinned, pupilless boy held a finger against his lips. "Sssh, Leech and Artie be quiet. Leech and Artie don't want help." The pink-skinned mute boy, Artie, nodded with a goofy grin. "Artie follow Leech," the green-skinned boy suggested. "Leech is good cook."

Artie simply projected a holographic thought that resembled an airsickness bag.

"Artie be good," Leech scowled. "Or Artie no get breakfast."

Artie frowned apologetically.

Leech pulled out kitchen drawer after drawer, creating a makeshift staircase that would ascend to the counter top.

"Artie know where Banshee keep bowl?" The green boy followed the directions to the letter, uncovering an aluminum bowl.

"Leech and Artie need milk. Where is milk?"

Artie projected another thought.

"Artie right. Chocolate milk better."

As Leech climbed his way to the refrigerator, Artie searched for other ingredients. In no time at all, the pair had accumulated the 'necessary' ingredients: chocolate milk, eggs (despite the fact none were green), the 'spices' that were growing off of the Chia pet, a bag of flour, a full bag of sugar, tomatoes, potatoes, nachos, some foul-smelling soda that had been stored away in a paper bag, and a Jell-O mold.

"Leech and Artie no have mixy thing," Leech reported. Artie was quick witted enough to plug in the blender, which had not been used recently because of it's missing cover. "Artie smart."

Both loaded their ingredients into the blender, and Leech, after setting the blender to purée, watched along with his friend, as their breakfast flew about the kitchen in multi-colored blobs of various consistencies.

Leech was prompt to turn off the blender, and reach a conclusion. "Leech and Artie need cover. Artie cover?"

Artie nodded again, and climbed atop the blender, fitting his chubby behind over the glass pitcher. As Leech reset the blender, Artie struggled to stay aboard the instrument, much like a cowboy riding a bull.

Finally, Leech deactivated the blender, and helped Artie off of his post, breaking a powerful seal of air and causing a rather impressive 'pop!'. "Artie make record time," Leech admired. "Leech make breakfast."

Leech took the pitcher, strolling over to the waffle iron and plugging it in. He poured the pitcher's contents onto the iron, which were only a few mere ounces as most of the meal had relocated itself to the walls or floor. "Leech says smells good!" He sniffed along the waffle iron, as he turned it's power to "10".

As the mysterious fluid began to burn, Artie unplugged the iron and suggested something to Leech. "Artie still smart," Leech complimented. "Leech and Artie wait. Go back to bed."

The two boys hopped off of the counters, exiting the kitchen as Banshee entered, wiping his eyes with his fists. "Up so early, boys?" he asked curiously.

"Leech and Artie done," Leech said, walking past the former X-Man. "Banshee's kitchen now."

As the boys exited, they would hear sounds easily identified by the older students as Gaelic profanity. Artie projected yet another thought. "Artie right," Leech agreed. "Banshee not morning person."