The X-Project

The Badness of The Wizard of Oz + Pain Pills, The Sequel: Why shooting at the Munchkin running on the wall and about to pounce on Jean's head is perhaps something better left until you're awake and realize that it's not actually there.


There was something running around the room. On the walls, too, Scott realized. Up and down the walls and across the edge of the ceiling, and was it cackling? Because it definitely sounded like it was cackling. Or singing.

And either way, it was just about to pounce on the bed, and Jean was sleeping in the bed beside him, helpless, so that wasn't good...

*ZAK!*

Jean was awake in an instant, a TK shield forming around the bed before she was even coherent enough to look around and realize there was no threat. Of course, in looking around it was a little hard to miss the rather large new and surprising window between their bedroom and the main room. "Scott?" she asked worriedly, not releasing the shield.

"What?" Scott asked groggily. "Watch out... something's running on the walls. I think it's a Munchkin." It dawned on him, very slowly, that she was regarding him with a sort of wary concern, and that there was actually no one else in the room.

And that he'd just told her there was a Munchkin running on the wall. Scott raised his head, blinked at the hole in the wall, and then groaned, letting his head fall back against the pillow. "Oh, shit."

A Munchkin... Well, it did seem rather silly to be holding up a shield against the incoming Munchkin invasion. Although the silly, still half asleep part of Jean's mind suggested that that there Lollypop Guild always had seemed like a rough bunch of kids. Rolling over to wrap an arm around Scott's waist, Jean asked, "So, was this a nightmare or a hallucination?"

"Cain's going to kill me," Scott muttered, but didn't try to detach Jean, or get up to take a closer look at the hole. He felt dizzy, and more than a little sick to his stomach, and the way his head was throbbing did not make him want to sit up. "Just a dream, though, I think... except I thought it was going to jump on your head or something."

"Jump on my head... a Munchkin..." There was something decidedly absurd about the idea. "Well, I do appreciate your protecting me from that dreadful fate. Cain can be dealt with."

"Will you?" It was maybe just the tiniest bit of a plea. "Head hurts and I don't want to go looking for plaster right now. Or whatever you fix walls with. I forget."

Jean pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "Don't worry, there is to be no construction work for you. I'll deal with Cain and get it all fixed up. But," she added, glancing past his shoulder at the clock, "I will deal with him at a more sane hour of the morning."

"I so should not watch movies with scary little people on drugs." Scott thought about that for a second. "I mean, when I'm on drugs. Not the little people. Although that would explain the singing..."

Jean chuckled. "We'll remember that for next time," she promised, "although most people would not normally consider the Munchkins terribly frightening."

"Squeaky voices. And they tried to give candy to Dorothy. That's a no-no, isn't it?" Scott's voice was increasingly slurred as the adrenalin finally started to fade.

Jean grinned brightly, amused, and nodded. "Yes, that's a no-no. Accepting candy from strangers is always a bad idea."

"Squeaky-voiced... candy-pushing... hero-worshipping little people. Who sing. Scary..." Scott turned his head on the pillow a little, sighing. "No more TV and drugs for me..."

"Or at least no more tv that can be successfully soundtracked by Pink Floyd. It starts out somewhat mindtwisting, even without the drugs." Hugging him again, Jean said, "Go back to sleep, love. And dream of things which are less... psychedelic."