6/24 Instance: Where Did We Go Wrong?

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Ferguson
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6/24 Instance: Where Did We Go Wrong?

Post by Ferguson »

Timeline after Mother May I


Doug looked at the house and took a deep breath. "Well, here goes. This, is my house. Where I grew up. Whatever you do, don't step on the grass or breathe in the direction of her roses. The broom will come out if you do." He warned and then knocked before poking his head in. "Mom? I'm uh, here, with a friend." He didn't know if he was warning her or preparing himself.

"Yes sir, Doug, sir." He smiled, straightening up to make sure he looked properly presentable. "I'd ask if you thought they'd like me but I know that's not going to be possible." He smiled winningly though. "Don't worry, everything's going to be just fine...might suck but it'll be okay."

He opened the door wider for Jean-Paul to enter. "Is it that 'friend' I spoke to on your phone?" She asked primly and disapprovingly. She was not a tall person. Doug ducked down to press a kiss to her cheek. "Hi mom." She waved him off. "Don't you hi mom me." She had her hands on her hips.

"Yes, we did meet rather informally, Jean-Paul Martin." He smiled and offered his hand. "I hope you found everything in order when you arrived. I can't say for certain but I imagine the infected didn't exactly care much about squatting."

She took his hand warily, giving him a critical eye. "Hm." She raised her chin as well as an eyebrow. "The Unmentionables were not the ones I need worry about as far as that goes. I was unaware you were bringing company, Douglas." It wasn't Dougie now. He gave her a smile. "He's a friend." He repeated.

"You had problems with others then?" He asked, doing quite a good job of feigning concern. "Well, if you and your husband need any help getting things back together I'd be quite glad to help." He glanced in at the man in the recliner watching the news and tutting at it, assuming this to be Doug's father.

"And how would you do that?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head. "I promise, he didn't loot our house while you were gone, mom." Doug gave Jean-Paul an apologetic smile. "He's foreign." She whispered to Doug. And Doug actually struggled to keep a straight face and not laugh at his mother. He was also blushing in embarrassment.

Oh, oh now the looting assumption was actually quite insulting on a personal level but damned if Jean-Paul was going to let on a bit. "It is a shame about the looting that went on during everything." He smirked over at Doug, nudging his shoulder. "Did I tell you about the looters at the art museum? That was a bit of a nasty surprise that evening."

"What's this?" She asked. Doug merely shook his head. "I was studying." He said. "For real. Actual studying. And, gym class. We have an actual gym class." She gave him a severe look. "You know you aren't to do sports. You could get hurt. Have you not read about all those young people dying when they get hit in the chest?" She told him. "Does your teacher take a note?" She asked. Doug covered his eyes. "No, mom."

"Professor Drake takes good care of him though." Jean-Paul defended Bobby's gym classes. "And no worry, Doug didn't have anything to do with the run-in with the looters, though his roommate Adam did." If his parents ever did come to visit they were going to have to hide Adam for the day more than likely...and get rid of all of the tin foil and the evil bunny.

"Be that as it may, I do not approve." She started and Doug tried to interrupt. "Mom, it's okay. It's good for me." She stared. "Did you just interrupt me? Philip? Did you just hear that? He interrupted me! What are they teaching him in this school?"

Philip looked up, very puzzled, from his news program, surprised to see Doug there at all. "What is this now? And who is this?" He looked at their guest with an air of disapproval, especially when he saw what he took to be 'fruity little bits of white hair-dye' through the other kid's hair.

"Actually was going to see about teaching Doug to ski a bit next year, think you'll be up for it?" Jean-Paul was very amused at the idea of Doug on skies all of a sudden. "But anyway, there are a great many more interesting things about the school than gym class."

"He's foreign, dear." She pressed her lips together. "Jean-Paul. He's the one that answered Dougie's phone when I called. He was in an art museum when it was looted, apparently." She added. "That's not a failing." Doug pointed out. "That remains to be explained and seen." She countered. "You young man have a lot to answer for yourself." She told her son. Doug acked.

"Helped to stop the looting, actually." He corrected with the cheeriest of smilies. "No shirking of community responsibilities and all that, yes?" He let out a laugh, sliding a bit away so he could have a look at the house. "And I'm sure Doug has a good deal to tell you about classes and the like. Dr. Xavier's maths courses are really quite something, hmm?"

She just made a 'hm' noise. Then told her son. "No skiing." He sighed. "But mom..." She gave him a look. "You fell off the porch the last time you were here, no skiing." She repeated. He covered his eyes. "I was trying to play a game and walk at the same time. It was my fault." She nodded. "And it'll be your fault when you fall, that's why I can't let you do it. You'll DIE!" He sighed. "Mooooom." He whined. "I won't die. Math! Math is good. I have hard math classes." He tried to change the conversation. "Are you interrupting me again?" She asked. He whimpered, but not in fear, just exasperation.

"Definitely hard to play a game while skiing, gloves and poles definitely cut into that being possible. He's more than capable of living through an afternoon of it. He's surprisingly resiliant, after all." Jean-Paul just smiled, nodding at the math class information. "Yes, Professor Xavier definitely gives a challenging class." That Xavier will fall asleep during half the time.

Doug finally raised his arms up and said. "Mom, dad, I came here today because I wanted to talk to you about something important. Not necessarily about looting and school." She gave him a terrified look and clutched at her throat. "You're a Democrat, aren't you?" She asked in horror. He paused. "Uh... that too?" He offered weakly. "PHILIP! Your son is a DEMOCRAT!" She said, still distressed.

"It's just a phase." Philip dismissed the whole conversation out-of-hand, glaring over at his son. "Where did we go wrong?"

"Oh sit down, it's about to get much better." Jean-Paul motioned for their chairs as advice.

"I..." Doug cleared his throat. He rubbed between his eyes as his mother sat down, still looking betrayed. "Mom, dad..."

She interrupted him this time. "Oh god, you're a gay democrat." She whimpered.

"No, mom." He groaned. "At least I dunno. I haven't dated. You never LET ME!" He pointed out.

"You could have caught something and died." She countered.

"Now now, I'm the gay NDPer here, as far as I know he's not as well." Jean-Paul was still all grins as he took a seat himself, getting an extra glare from Philip for taking such liberty.

"I think I would have liked to have dated, mom." Doug was a little bitter on that point, but that was the past anyway. Time to move on. "That's not important right now. Anyway... mom. Dad... I'm a mutant."

He took a breath and held it and right on cue his mother said. "No you're not."

"I think he'd notice if he was. Plus, you know, that's the number one requirement for actually being allowed into the university."

"Nonsense." Philip started. "He looks perfectly normal."

"Dad, you can look normal and still be a mutant. He's a mutant, he looks fine." Doug pointed out.

"Not really. He's foreign." She pointed out as Doug groaned and thunk his head on the couch. "And he has that weird... gay hair." She added to his dismay.

"Born with the hair, same as my sister and, as far as I know anyway, she has managed to be straight despite the influence of her hair." He pushed his hair back just for the sake of rubbing his ears in like salt to a wound. "Not even going to ask your son what he does?"

"He doesn't 'do' anything other than play his silly little games, which I knew were a bad idea. Now look what it has done. It's put silly notions in his head." She stood up. "Philip, what was the name of that psychiatrist that your sister recommended when he was five and wanted to be a 'tornado'?"

Doug rolled his eyes. "I was five, mom. That was perfectly normal behavior, the psychiatrist even told you that."

"Oh I don't know, something that sounded like Task. You know I don't believe in those quacks either now." Philip cringed at the very idea. "Absolute quack if he thinks being a tornado is normal, isn't he now?"

"A tornado?" Jean-Paul grinned. "That's sort of adorable." He shook his head. "Anyway, what foreign language did Doug take for high school?"

She sniffed and thought for a moment. "French his first year, Latin his second, Spanish the third, and finished with German the last year. He couldn't make up his mind."

"I was fiiiive." He snorted. "The week after that I wanted to be a dog. No mom, it was because I learned the languages within a day or so, and I was bored the rest of the year. I spent all of class doing homework from other classes." He sighed as she didn't seem to believe him.

"He speaks everything." Jean-Paul said for him. "It doesn't matter if it's been dead for thousands of years and he's never even seen it before, Doug here speaks it."

"That is impossible." She insisted. "There's no way to test it either." Though she sounded more unsure. She looked to her husband. "It's unnatural." She added.

"Mom, it's a 'natural' mutation. Mutations are what has occurred throughout history in order for us to evolve from primates to humans." Doug told her.

"Where did we go wrong?" She cried while Doug sighed.

Grade-school. Jean-Paul stood back up from his seat. "Well, now that you can let that news sink in, it was a pleasure meeting you and you have a very nice home here. Doug, are you ready to head back?"

"There is nothing natural about this. You're not human." Philip looked at his son, not sure what he was seeing.

Doug looked at his parents and sighed. "Maybe, someday, you'll accept me for what I am. Not what you want me to be. Until then, I gotta go. I have a test coming up." He stood up as well, turning to go.

"What about gene therapy?" She was asking her husband, hoping for answers.

"Time to GO!" Doug announced. "Quickly." He hurried to the door with a squawk and was really glad he never got around to telling his mom what the school's address was. "Buh-bye!" RUNNNNN!


[Edited on 25/6/11 by Ferguson]
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6/24 Instance: Where Did We Go Wrong?

Post by puppygirl »

OMG how did I miss this untill now? (I'm timelining) That was hysterical guys! Poor Dougie, his mother is truly terrifying xD
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6/24 Instance: Where Did We Go Wrong?

Post by steyn »

Lol, liking Doug more and more and more.
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