Hank found himself still deep in thought over the strangeness of Blob's attack on the school as they headed for the elevators. "It just doesn't make sense, Bobby. Perhaps it might have when Dukes was alone, but he's a part of the Brotherhood. When have we ever seen them on their own without someone to back them up? Are you sure Toad or Pyro wasn't lurking about? Mystique could have snuck in during the chaos..."
Bobby smiled amiably and shook his head. "Logan sniffed around. He didn't catch a whiff of her or anyone else." Shrugging, he rested a hand on Hank's broad shoulder. "Sometimes, a duck is just a duck, Blue. Or in this case, a one-ton fat dude."
Hank was about to respond on how the Blob hadn't even looked upset that he'd been captured, but was interrupted by a sudden growl from his stomach that filled the elevator before dying down to a gentle gurgle. both he and Bobby looked stunned before the smaller X-Man laughed. "Oh man, that had to be at least a 6.0 on the Richter scale! Are you forgetting to eat when you're down in the lab, Hank?"
Resting a hand on his quieted stomach, Hank frowned. "I... thought I'd eaten breakfast this morning. I'm almost certain of it."
Bobby chuckled, patting his friend's shoulder. "Well, I know Scott and jean just restocked the fridge yesterday. I'm sure you'll find something! Anyway, I'll catch you later! I gotta go gloat to Remy!" the doors parted, and Bobby took off down the hall, making Hank chuckle. After all these years, Bobby still hadn't completely grown-up. However, another growl from his stomach diverted his train of thought. Maybe he hadn't eaten breakfast? Best to remedy that immediately, then, before he turned back to more pressing matters.
Lumbering to the kitchen, Hank opened up the refrigerator, considering his options. The usual assortment was there, of course. Ororo's Tupperware was neatly labeled. Tomato soup? Hmn, only a cup's worth. Who honestly considered a cup of anything a full serving in this modern America? Salad? No amount of dressing could make that a filling meal. No, he needed something with substance! Something with flavor! Something like... "Ah, pastrami. we meet again..."
Perfect! Taking out the entire package of the shredded meat, Hank also nabbed the hoagie rolls and mustard. But no... what was a pastrami sandwich without Swiss cheese? he grabbed that too, and then found himself sauntering into the walk-in cooler to add to the assortment in his arms. Lettuce! Tomatoes! Dill pickles! Olives! His stomach growled eagerly now, as if to encourage him. why stop there, after all? Pastrami wasn't the only thing he could use! Roast beef! Turkey! Bologna! Best to use that mayo, too. And what sandwich was complete without potato chips? Ah, the party bag would do nicely! And potato salad, yes! Was that macaroni salad? He hadn't had that in ages. Expertly balancing his trove of condiments, Hank set to work at the kitchen counter, making his sandwich. No, creating a culinary masterpiece that would make angels weep at the mere sight! he absently licking his lip, belly continuing to growl insistently as he piled on more meat, more cheese, more toppings...
By the time he was done, Hank's sandwich had to stand at least a foot tall, bursting at the seams with savory goodness. Seating himself, the blue-furred Beast opened his jaws as wide as he could, and took that first, big bite. Absolute heaven. His jaws ached as he took another bite, chewing, savoring, swallowing. Grabbing a serving spoon, he heaped the potato and macaroni salad onto his plate, and then tore open the bag of chips and dumped a full quarter of its contents on the remaining section. He helped himself to those in between bites of sandwich, eating as if possessed. Time and reason no longer held meaning. There was only sandwich. Was the potato salad gone already? A shame! This called for more potato chips, certainly. No more potato chips? This called for something sweet! Ah, that half-gallon of ice cream would go splendidly with that bottle of caramel...
By the time Hank was feeling full and sated, he'd left quite a mess of empty packaging on the counter top. He smiled and leaned back in his seat, the action causing a deep rumble of a belch to escape his belly. Ah, his belly; so full of food now, so content. He slowly rubbed over it with a hand, feeling the bloated curve of it pushing out over his belt line, listening to the stifled gurgle of digestion in the calm after the storm.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
