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(A/N: Reviews bring happiness to
Warrentopia. Almost as much as Laziness. Warren
beseeches your reviews. He’ll make you Viceroy. This week’s Viceroy of
Warrentopia is TKD. Warren let’s
her partake of the Royal Warrentopian Pop-Tarts lovingly purchased for him by
his Minister of Transportation, Kurt. Kurt has stated he will also provide the
Royal lap dances for the Viceroys. Please have your dollar bills and/or Tootsie
Pops ready.)

Sage
walked out of the hotel room’s bathroom, dressed in a pair of Jean’s sweatpants
and one of Kurt’s tee-shirts. She had her wet hair piled on her head in its now
customary up style. Kurt sat cross legged on the bed, leaning over his laptop
and printing out page after page.

“How is your
research progressing, Nightcrawler?” Sage asked, walking towards the window and
peeking out the curtain. “It’s unfortunate you couldn’t contact your mother.”

“She’s
probably on the Winding Way
doing...whatever it is she does there.” Kurt actually suspected she was playing
Canasta with Dr. Strange and Agatha Harkness, but he didn’t say so. His sister,
Jimaine, generally tagged along with her so Daytripper was out as a magical
option also. “I’m almost done...we can try this as soon as Jean gets back.”

“I
instructed Marvel Girl to not stray more then a quarter mile from this
location, in case the hostiles are in pursuit.” Sage closed the curtain, “I
appreciate the effort the X-Men have gone to for my rescue. Perhaps you can
enlighten me on why I was abducted?”

“Let’s
talk about that after we get that collar-thing off you.” Kurt closed his
laptop, “Alright, I think I’m ready.”

“You
are sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Of
course,” Kurt lied, “I’m Margali’s son and Daytripper’s brother. I grew up
around sorcery.” His mother would kill him for even trying this but he had very
little choice. Those...people (he couldn’t bring himself to even think the words Nazis and Ninjas) could
very well find Sage using the magic of her collar as a sort of arcane tracking
device.

“She’s
coming.” Sage commented. Kurt looup aup and gathered his papers. Jean let
herself in, armed with a plastic sack, a tray of drinks and a McDonald’s bag.
She set down the drinks and opened the McDonald’s bag.

“Here
ya go, One Quarter Pounder with cheese meal, no onions, extra pickles for
Kurt.” She handed him his food.

“Oh,
thank God.” He almost teared up at the sight. So much ‘porting made him
ravenous. Jean handed Sage her Filet O’Fish, and settled down to her own
McNugget Meal. Kurt passed out the drinks; Diet Cokes for him and Jean and a
large orange drink, no ice, for Sage. Kurt’s tail acted as his personal drink
holder while he ate and flipped the print outs.

“I
got the other stuff. Sort of. I was limited to McDonald’s and a Stop-n-Rob.”
Jean dumped out the plastic bag. White candles, incense (in Tahitian Night),
small bottle of olive oil, a single pink rose, a bag of Oreos, a two-liter of
Diet Coke and a large bottle of Bicardi 151. Out of the McDonald’s bag came
about 100 tiny packets of salt.

“It
will have to do. Thanks, Jean.” Kurt ate his food quickly and then gathered the
“supplies” and headed over to the vanity counter. He sat on the counter and
went through the pages again.

“Well?”
Saskeasked, finishing her sandwich. Jean threw the trash away.

“Ok,
I Googled some magical texts and then-“

“Excuse
me,” Sage stared at him, “You