the pearl

Snack Products And Celebrations

The lab was dark, save the single flickering monitor in the corner. Hank sat in front of it, his eyes blurry, tapping occasionally on the keyboard. He paused and rubbed his eyes, sighing heavily.

When he opened his eyes again, there was a twinkie on the keyboard, appearing out of nowhere as if the Good Twinkie Fairy had come down and bestowed Twinkie goodness upon this poor mutant scientist. Hank almost believed that, until he noticed the faint trace of ice around the twinkie. He chuckled. "Bobby, you know that having water near the keyboard is usually a monumentally unwise idea, especially when combined with the dangerous adhesive qualities of the creme inside of a twinkie."

"Shut up and eat it, Hank," a voice said from behind the desk.

Hank quickly swallowed down the twinkie, licking his claws delicately and wiping the few crumbs out of his fur. The sugar rush hit him comfortably, and he looked back at the computer. "Now, Bobby, why are you distracting me from my research with sugary confections?"

Bobby peeked up from behind the desk and grinned. "'Cause it's either twinkies or episodes of Crocodile Hunter, and I doubt Logan would be happy if we started sneaking around the house talking about what a wild animal he is. 'Member last time?"

"If I recall correctly, you were the one with the continuous commentary, purely because I refused to permit you to tackle me and talk about what a 'crazy bugger' I was."

"You're blue and furry. Like the Crocodile Hunter wouldn't come after you."

Hank looked down at the computer screen, then looked at Bobby. "So why did you bring me a twinkie?"

Bobby grinned and pointed to the clock. "It's after midnight."

Hank frowned slightly, his brow lowering over his eyes. "And...?"

Bobby goggled at Hank. "It's your birthday, you big blue dork!" He placed another twinkie on the desk, and glared at him.

"Bobby, I was born at 5:20 in the afternoon. I hardly consider celebrating at midnight to be appropriate, since at this moment 31 years ago, my mother was in the process of talking my father into getting the car out of the driveway. Perhaps in the afternoon, yes, a twinkie would be most satisfactory, but for now, it merely seems premature."

Bobby slumped against the desk. "So you're not going to eat it?" he said, gesturing towards the yellow snack product.

"I never stated that." Hank smiled and reached for the twinkie.

Bobby grinned. "Happy birthday, Hank."

"'Ank 'Ou," Hank mumbled through a mouthful of twinkie.

This X-Men story was written by Kate Bolin. If you liked it, there's plenty more at And you can feedback her at