So anyway, she stumbles and falls onto a sharp, broken bottle that I�ve paid some hobo to� that some hobo left there. It digs deep into her trampy little gut, but fortunately doesn�t kill her.
No, don�t boo me yet! It is fortunate because now YOU, yes YOU get to kill her slowly! Hurrah!
Jean Blah is lying on the ground and you walk slowly out of the shadows. You help her up� your hand clothed in so many layers she thinks you�re Rogue, but you�re really not, which really sucks. But you�re still cool enough to finish off Jean Blah, right?!
You help her up and she thanks you, pulling the broken bottle out of her fat gut. Any smart person would know if you have something like a broken bottle in you, you�re supposed to go to a hospital� but we�re dealing with I Dream of Jeanie here.
Blood starts gushing, Jean starts crying and screaming for Scott� don�t know why, maybe it�s a girlfriend thing. Seriously, the best he could do is cauterize the wound with his laser-filled eyeballs, which would end up searing right through her and chopping off her top�
Suddenly this doesn�t seem like such a bad idea.
You whip out your cell phone and dial Scott�s number. You only know it because you went to summer camp a few years before.
Duh.
L
ike you�ve got the hots for Jean�s man!
�Right?
"Hello?"
"Scott!" You explain the situation � that Jean was violently shoved by a madman with a chainsaw and it bleeding all over the alley behind the� disco � and he says he�ll be right there.
Within a few minutes, Jean is quiet as Scott rushes onto the scene� luckily, the silence is caused by the massive blood loss. The lack of oxygen getting to her brain cells is no bother, because inside her head in completely unfamiliar territory with air, anyway.
You convince Scott that Jean will die unless he cauterizes her wound with his snazzy eye-lasers and he refuses, saying that it would kill her.
Damn.
Back to the beginning.
You shoo Scott away, saying that you�ll take her to the hospital. As soon as he�s out of sight (Ha! Sight�) you grab Jean by her stupid whore-red ponytail and drag her away� so far away no one would really care, but this is a Jean-bashing story, so obviously some people do care. So you drag her to the nearest cliff (which isn�t so near) and roll her off the edge.
By now she�s bled to death, but hearing her skull split open is still pretty sweet.
You dust off your hands and walk away triumphantly. Another day, another $20, 000.
You hear a voice inside your head,
"Thank you! I couldn�t put up with her anymore� You�ll get your cheque by next Thursday."
You smile to yourself and say out loud,
"No prob, Professor Xavier� no problem."