Fishing Trip: The Same Generation

Or: Magneto and I Went to Space And All I Got Was This Stupid Costume

by Andraste

Disclaimer: Not mine, Marvel's. No money. Don't sue.

Rated PG-13 for bad language and innuendo.

This *might* make more sense if you went to and read the first story. Mind you, I'm making no gaurantees.

"I *hate* plastic. Why can't people use normal, *ferrous* building materials for their space ships the way nature so obviously intended?"

"The Shi'ar are an advanced race, who have developed highly adaptable and effective construction materials that go far beyond the capabilities of mere metal. This ship is infinitely cheaper, lighter, and more durable than anything we could build. And it's environmentally friendly into the bargain."

"Putting all that aside for a moment, the fact remains that if you hadn't insisted on trading in our *metal* ship for this monstrosity, I would be able to stop us falling into that sun over there even though the engines have broken down."

"Good point."


"So: we are, to coin a phrase, lost in space. The engines are broken, neither of us can read the repair manual - if that is a repair manual, since it might as well be a copy of "Hamlet" for all I can tell - and the replacement parts we need probably aren't available in this sector anyway. If we could get to a store to buy them, which we can't. Your powers won't work on plastic. I can't detect any sentient life forms nearby. We're running out of oxygen, and we don't have any food, so even if we *had* oxygen we'd eventually starve. But we won't, of course, because the heating system is running low on fuel. And we'll probably fall into the nearest sun before we have time to freeze to death."

"That seems to be a reasonable summary of our situation."

"So, what you're trying to say is: we're completely fucked."


"What? There isn't a single impressionable teenager in light-years, and you're irretrivably corrupt without any bad influence from me. I can swear all I like. To whit: we are going to crash into that fucking sun and fucking well fucking die."

"If you are attempting to sound 'cool' for some bizarre reason, I believe that made-up, futuristic swear words are even more fashionable than the ordinary kind. Although the letter f is still quite popular."

"Oh, shut *up*."


"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

"Does it involve the decision that since we're going to die anyway, we might as well spend the last hours of our lives comforting one another with a display of hitherto unrealised burning sexual passion that will put the cruel stars to shame, ruin our clothes, and use up our oxygen stores at twice the usual rate?"

"Well, no, actually. *I* was thinking that we should abandon ship in a magnetically shielded makeshift escape pod and make a last-ditch attempt to find some assistance using your telepathy."

"Oh. That *is* a good plan."

"I thought so."



"I'm afraid not. We're obviously a long way from any of the known trade routes, helpless wanderers doomed to suffocate anonymously in the trackless void. So perhaps this would be an appropriate time to try out *my* plan."

"Wait a minute . . . what's that light over there?"

"Which light? This is space. There are *millions* of lights. Including the one that our corpses are presently going to burn up in."

"No, it's not a star. Look - over there! It think it's moving!"

"Good heavens. I think you may be right. It looks like . . ."


"Are you *quite* finished?"

"Forgive me, but you must admit that you do look . . . rather amusing . . ."

"Oh, for heaven's sake! The Phoenix force isn't a laughing matter. It's power and fire and life incarnate, and you're damn lucky it sensed a former host in trouble and showed up to save us when it did."

". . . Alright. I have regained my composure. I will admit that the timely intervention of the Phoenix is a welcome windfall, rather than an opportunity to laugh at the sight of you in that dreadful costume. Yet I would ask you to promise me one thing."


"Remind me as soon as we're rescued that I need to find a camera."

<*This line has been censored to protect any impressionable teenagers in the audience.*>

"You know that's anatomically impossible, don't you? Many times over."

"Nothing is impossible when you've got Phenomenal Cosmic Powers."

"There's no need to be hostile. I merely wish to point out that it is odd to see an entity with so many millennia of experience, and so much cosmic knowledge at its disposal, which is nevertheless unable to see that red and yellow are *not* your colours."

"This coming from a man who used to wear a costume with his *initial* on it!"

"Now that *is* the pot calling the kettle black. At least I've never made everyone *else* where my initial all over *everything.*"

"But surely you must see that X is a much better letter than M from a design point of view . . ."


<*Some time later, after Our Heroes have managed to stop arguing long enough to save themselves. . .*>

"I must say that although the Phoenix may not be a *tasteful* cosmic entity, it is certainly a useful one. We are no longer in mortal danger. We have plenty of oxygen, and a fully functioning ship. Only one question remains: what will we have for lunch?"

"Well, actually, now that you mention it, that white dwarf over there does look rather appertising . . ."

The End . . . ?