**Mice's "God...er, Dog" Disclaimer**
Mice is in no way associated with the Marvel Comics Group. The characters of Bobby Drake, Hank McCoy and Jubilee, belong to the Marvel Comics Group. Holland, Jacob, Bert, Cliff, Hollis, Annie, Gary, Gene, Harpo, Peaches and Nan are of my own mind. If you want to e-mail her comments or if you'd like to archive this series, do it at mice5k@hotmail.com. You'll get some brownies out of the deal, but it's not really that great of a reward because she can't cook.

This story is currently being archived at:
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The X-Zone (http://www.geocities.com/shatter_star15/xzone.html)

God ... er, Dog
by Mice

Chapter 7

Peaches began to pace back in forth methodically in her family's restaurant, O! Alligria. There were many people there preparing the place for the wake for her best friend's brother, but the anxiety she was feeling was not from the fact that there were roughly thirty gorgeous looking guys that were all happily gay, but from the fact she couldn't understand what was going through Holland Bass's mind. "Your mother actually came back and you actually went to see her?!"

A tiny smile appeared on Holland's face as she helped line up the chairs. "Well, she never lived here, so there was never any here to come back to."

Peaches approached her. "Well..."

Holland began to walk away as nonchalantly as possible. "Well...?"

"Holly!" Peaches grabbed her best friend's arm and looked her in the eyes. "Has your father seen her? Gilberto?"

Holland shook her head.

"I understand," Peaches nodded and added in a hopeful voice, "She probably feels a little remorseful after all these years and--"

Holland laughed. "Oh, I wish."

Peaches let her friend go, but not the topic. "So ... how did things go with your mother? I see you got your hair cut; it looks ... good?" Peaches' smile was almost convincing.

"It was her idea. I mean, you couldn't believe the gall of this woman! She calls me from almost out of the blue to pick her up at the airport, then proceeds to ridicule every aspect of my life and I have to leave, like, NOW to go to Malibu to pick her up for this! God, what a bitch..."

"Holly!"

"I'm sorry, Peaches ... 'Golly, what a bitch.'"

"Better."

Bobby began to pick through his grandfather's closet for something to wear. It wasn't that he didn't bring anything to wear, he just managed to bring something that Cliff wouldn't approve of him wearing. Apparently, a pair of khaki Dockers with a white dress shirt and tie wasn't going to cut it.

"Leave it to Cliff to specify white tie for this thing..."

"It has got to be a crime to look this good!"

Bobby cringed at hearing Jubilee proclaiming this. He was afraid of the neon monstrosity that he was about to subject his eyes to.

"Well, Bobby, don't keep me in suspense, how do I look?!"

Bobby turned his head slowly, eyes still closed as all the different possibilities ran through his head. Pink and green zebra stripes. Purple leather leopard print. Neon purple grapes on a short, red dress. Bobby, assuring himself that he already thought of the worst of possibilities, finally opened his eyes. "Oh my..."

Jubilee casted her eyes down. "You don't like it? I'll admit, it's not my normal style, but--"

Bobby smiled and hugged his friend who was no longer a girl but a nymph in a dress of yellow chiffon. "Jubilee, I've never seen you look more lovely."

Jubilee, glad Bobby couldn't see her face at the moment, blushed. "Uh ... thank you ... Frosty."

Bobby released her and went back to the closet. "Now, I need to find a suit in here ... want to help me look?"

Jubilee bounced to the closet doors, ran a white gloved hand across the suits until her hand stopped at a black jacket. She pulled it out and handed it to Bobby. "This is the one you are going to wear."

Bobby looked at the shirt that was with the jacket. "No way."

"C'mon, Bobby, you'll look great!"

"Jubilee, that shirt is pink!"

"So?"

"I don't wear pink! Men do NOT wear pink!"

"John Travolta wore a similar tux in Grease!"

"Still, Jubilee ... it's pink..."

Jubilee sighed and put it back into the closet. "All right, what's your favorite color?"

"Blue."

Jubilee pulled out another suit. "Will you wear this one?"

Bobby's eyes went wide in giddy delight. "Will I?!"

Holland grumbled as she went up the elevator to get her mother. "'Why, Holly, honey, Ah jest can't take a filthy ol' cab ta somewhere Ah've nevah been ta -- all of the cabbies are so filthy and wouldn't think twice about raping me, so ya just HAVETA come out ta Malibu and pick me up because Ah couldn't let a dainty thing like mahself stay in a Mexcan town like Santa Monica...'" Holly snorted as the elevator bell rang. "Bitch." She found her mother's suite and knocked.

The door flew open and Hollis unleashed a bright smile. "Holly, honey!"

Holland found it in herself to smile. "Hi, Mom!"

"Is that what we're wearing?"

Holland shifted her weight and straightened out her light pink dress. "Well, I am at least."

Hollis frowned for a bit. "Well, see, honey, there's a problem with that..."

Holland squinted and looked at her dress. "What? It's perfect, it's light for the weather and--"

Hollis laughed. "No, honey, there's not a problem with the dress, but it has one with you. It looks awful. Come in here, honey, and Ah'm sure Ah have something big enough to fit you!"

Nan Bass held her head in her hands as she saw her grandson. "Of all the tux's that were in there, Robert..."

"I think it looks sharp, Nan!" Jubilee squealed.

Nan made her way over to Bobby and looked at the tux closer. "Well ... the powder blue does brings out your eyes..."

Jubilee elbowed her friend. "Hey, maybe you can pick up one of Cliff's swinging single friends!"

Bobby began to smile before remembering just how few of Cliff's friends were women.

Nan's eyes flew wide. "Robert -- You're a fairy?!"

Bobby shook his head. "No, no! I mean...not that there's anything wrong with being a fairy ... or being gay, I'm sure they're both nice ways to live, but, uh, no, no!!"

Jubilee rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Stinkerbell."

"Methinks the fairy protest too much," Nana giggled.

"I am NOT--" Bobby stopped in midwhine. "That's not very PC, Nana."

Nan groaned. "Robert, I am 76 years old and stuck in my ways. Believe me, son, if I wanted to be derogatory to homosexuals, I can do a lot worse than calling them fairies. But I don't because they don't deserve it. If the Politically Correct Police want to come after me for calling some friend of Dorothy a fairy, let them waste their money and energy, while all the while, another hate crime is being committed or someone's right to marry someone else is being denied. Calling someone a politically correct name isn't going to cause world peace."

"But, Nana, it's a start--"

"It's retarded! Robert, you can't tell me that you insist that amongst friend you be called, 'Homo-Superior American'?"

Bobby shook his head.

"And you know why? Because it's stupid! When my mother and father came here, they didn't insist on being called 'Jewish-American', being an American was a joy in itself. When did being just an American become such a dull thing?

"Now Billie, where is my sheet music?"

continued >>

Author's Note:
Hope I didn't offend anybody, but Nan has wanted to do that for quite a bit. The next chapter, which is coming quickly on the heels on this one, is going to be the wake.
I heard that "about frickin' time!" there in the back! I also want to mention that another archivist, who is truly wise and has exquisite taste, has picked up the story (yay!) to put on their archive: The X-Zone. Thank you, Bertee! Since this story has been going SO well, I'd like to announce on the part of the "God...er, Dog" Shameless Promotion Campaign, that soon you can visit the tenetively titled, "God...er, Dog, the Cook Book!" Details to come soon...

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