This story was inspired by the column Trials And Tribulations by Meimi. I had no idea what a Mary Sue was before reading her column. And while I believe the purpose of that article was to deter writers from using Mary Sue, I just found her too amusing to resist.

This is intended to be humorous. All characters, aside from Mary Sue of course, are owned by people other than I and used entirely without permission. So, sit right back and you'll hear a tale...

How convenient, she thought as she took off after the thug. Funny, you would think running in high heels would be a bit of a strain, but Mary Sue flew through the busy streets of the city as effortless as Hermes, the winged messenger of the Gods. She had a Ph.D. in mythology, as well.

"Come back here!" she shouted, in the off chance the thief might oblige. He didn't. She pushed herself to run faster now, the sweat and adrenaline glistening on her porcelain face, her ample bosom heaving with excitement. The thief rounded the corner. A-ha! she thought. That alley was a dead end. He was trapped.

But the joke was on Mary Sue. For as she turned the corner she was met by a fleet of Ninja Thieves. They all swung their weapons menacingly, and you can tell they were mocking her with a sly grin, even underneath the facemasks. "Uh...you dropped this!" she tittered nervously, as she proceeded to take out a tube of Chap Stick from her back pocket. "I know I'm lost without my Chap Stick. They say it's addicting but I don't really, uh, believe it."

There was an awkward pause, and then the Ninjas were upon her. She tried to force them off with the few skills she learned while studying with a Tibetan monk, but there were just too many.

SKRIT!

Suddenly, a blinding flash of hair and metal, and a distinctive smell, was working its way through the Ninja Thieves. Bodies fell all around her, and she could do little more than stand perfectly still and wait for it to be over. When the dust settled, there was nothing but a pile of gnarled Ninja carcasses, and a short yet oddly attractive Canadian. She could tell he was Canadian, because he was wearing a flannel shirt.

"You all right?" he asked in a voice that was almost a growl.

"Yes, thanks to you." She blushed.

Aw, shit, thought Logan as he mentally scoped out the girl's figure. Another one?

"Okay, then. I'll see ya." He turned and tried to flee the scene before the girl asked him his name, or to repay him in some way, or to perform oral sex. Whatever. They'd already had three practically identical chicks stay at the mansion this month. They were getting old.

"Wait!" called Mary Sue, leaving the huge pile of bodies in the alleyway. That's what sanitation workers are for and they get paid good money for it too. "I don't even know your name!"

"I know," he called out behind him, quickening his step.

Mary Sue had to almost run to catch up. "Please, I at least owe you dinner."

"Had dinner."

Mary Sue didn't believe him. "Oh yeah? Then what did you have?"

Logan was practically sprinting now. "Beer and a packet of ketchup."

"Well, I know I can feed you better then that," she giggled, talking down her training at Julliard. Guys like modesty. "How about you come to my place and I make you an omelet?"

The entire population of the mansion's common room narrowed their eyes accusingly. "She followed me home," he said defensively. His audience still was not pleased. "She makes omelets."

"I like ham in mine," Bobby called from the corner, not even looking up from the copy of Rolling Stone he was reading. "And no less the four eggs. Got that, sister? Four."

Mary Sue would have felt unwanted if she wasn't already so overwhelmed by what she was seeing. Here was this entire room of extraordinary people. Of superheroes!!! Yesterday she was doing the mundane work of removing brain tumors from two-year-olds and now...now she was in the company of greatness. She was downright giddy.

"Mary Sue?"

She snapped back to reality and was met by the piercing stare of her rescuer. "You know, you still haven't told me your name," she said.

"Omelets," Logan replied flatly.

"You name is Omelets?"

"No, I want you to make omelets. You promised me omelets."

"Well, a promise is a promise. And afterwards will you tell me your name?" She placed her hand on his shoulder in what she hoped was a flirtatious manner.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Seriously, sugah," Rogue chimed in. I've had all I can stand, I can't stands no more. You know, I wouldn't even mind 'em stayin' here so much but they keep eating my cereal, she thought bitterly to the last refugee they took in who finished the Lucky Charms without asking. Who does that?

"I'm tellin' ya, she followed me home! I tried to run but she's quick! Quick like some deranged, oversexed bunny!"

"Still," Storm sighed. "I do not find it appropriate to make her our unofficial slave. It is simply not right to exploit one's impossibly sweet disposition."

"The bitch promised omelets!" Bobby slammed his magazine down. No way was he getting screwed out of his omelet.

"I'm with Bobby. If we're gonna keep her, we might was well make her useful," Rogue consented genially.

"What I wanna know is why they keep latching on to Wolverine?" Jubilee grumbled, attempting to mask her jealousy, and poorly.

"It's cause he's brooding," Rogue said, grinning broadly. "They like that. They want to find the poor, lonely puppy dog underneath the big tough exterior." She pinched Logan's cheeks mockingly.

He swatted her hand away. "Whatever. All I know is I went and got us omelets. You should be kissin' my goddamn feet."

"I'm Mary Sue."

Cyclops looked her over for a second and the nodded in understanding. "Oh."

"I'm sorry to be so forward, but are you very good friends with that gentleman over there?" She led him over to the doorway and pointed over in Logan's direction.

He rolled his eyes, though no one could tell. "You could call it that, I suppose."

"What's his name?"

"Logan."

"Logan...I like it."

"I'm so glad."

"Would you like an omelet?"

"What do you think you're doing?" called a voice from behind her. She turned around and saw a young girl of about sixteen sitting four feet higher on the roof.

"Oh. I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd come here..."

"To think? Sorry. Space is spoken for."

"The whole roof?"

"Yeah. Wanna make something of it, Mary Lou?"

"Mary Sue."

"Go fuck yourself," Jubilee said defiantly as she put on her headphones.

Mary Sue pouted for a second. There are very few clever retorts to go fuck yourself. It's one of those phrases that were invented solely for the purpose of ending conversations.

"Can we talk?" she asked the young girl timidly.

The girl responded with a singular finger.

Dejected, Mary Sue retreated from the roof with her tail between her legs. The reception here at the mansion had been less then warm. It's always tough being the new kid on the block but this was going to take some getting used to. Still, she had been in tougher situations and pulled through okay. The kids at the orphanage weren't nice to her either at first. Neither were the natives when she first was stationed as a missionary in Ethiopia. She would win them over, like she always did. What wasn't to love?

A light went on in the kitchen, and Mary Sue suddenly realized she had just been standing in the middle of the common room with the lights off for about ten minutes. Dammit. Got lost in soliloquy again.

She wandered into the kitchen and was met with someone's ass sticking out from behind the refrigerator door. It was a nice ass. The door closed, and the young gentleman who had been so kind as to disclose Logan's name emerged carrying the makings of a rather large sandwich. He seemed, as everyone was, irritated to see her there.

"Hi, Mary Sue."

"You know, something funny? I never got your name."

Scott looked her over for a second. "Is there any particular reason why you do not properly introduce yourself to anyone? Is it just because you're an idiot or is it so you have something to fall back on when you flirt with them later?"

"The later," Mary Sue said matter-of-factly. "So what?"

Well, there was no real response to that. So Scott sat down at the table and began to make his sandwich.

"So what is it?"

"What's what?"

"You're name?"

"Scott."

"Hi, Scott."

"Yeah, could you shut up now?"

"Why is that everyone is so mean to me? I'm just trying to be friendly. This happens to me all the time. I mean, just because I'm smart, beautiful, a born leader, multi-faceted, can speak three foreign languages, and don't try to hide my many skills and general competence, people seem to resent me."

Scott stared at her again, but this time with a very different expression then before. It was as if some light went off in his head, and this warm glow began to fill the features of his face. "Me too!!!!" he said. "I mean, honestly. It's not my fault I'm the only one here who knows what the hell they're doing."

"Yeah! If I don't do something, then it doesn't get done right. It's a simple fact. Why don't people just accept it, instead of telling me I'm being bossy."

"I know, right? Sometimes I just feel so..."

"I get so..."

"Lonely," they both said at the same time, finishing each other's thoughts. Their eyes met, and for a moment they held each other's gaze. Then they couldn't hold back any longer, and the two of them rushed the table and collapsed in each other's arms. They rolled passionately on the kitchen table, disregarding the slices of wheat bread and bologna that were tossed in their wake, steam rolling over the bottle of mustard as it spit streams of the condiment across the room. It was like a metaphor for their passion. A hot, spicy, yellow metaphor.

Then Logan walked in. "What the fuck?" he yelled in amazement as he flipped on the light.

The two of them froze, salami hanging off one side of Scott's face. "Logan! Uh...this isn't what it looks like!"

"How could you?"

"Logan, please," Scott rolled ungracefully off the table. He made his way over to Logan, slipping on various pieces of roast beef as he went. "You can't tell Jean."

"Jean? Screw Jean! You took my Mary Sue!!"

"Your Mary Sue?" Mary Sue rose to her feet, attempting to sound offended by the blatantly sexist comment, but secretly feeling thrilled he considered her his property. "Since when am I you're Mary Sue?"

"Yeah! You said you hated the little bitch!" Scott blurted, then suddenly quieted down. That wasn't the best thing to say.

"Of course I did! I always hate them at first and then they grow on me and next thing I know, we're screwin' like flies in a jelly jar! I'm the one who saved her from the ninjas, asshole. That means she's mine!"

"I'd sooner die then let you have her!"

"Great! Even better!"

The two men lunged at each other, rolling on the floor as fiercely as the two lovers had been, both exchanging blows at an even pace. Mary Sue was appalled at such violence. "Boys, please! You're teammates! Brothers, even!"

"Shut up, bitch, no one's talkin' to you!" Logan managed to get out between jabs in the jaw.

"Please!" she continued, but her shouts were in vain.

Suddenly, the lights in the kitchen began to flicker on and off frantically. After a few minutes, Logan and Scott reluctantly removed their hands from the other's throat to see what the interruption was.

Rogue was standing in the doorway, her hand on the light switch. Behind her was just about every other mutant in the place. Some were shaking their heads shamefully, others were trying not to laugh in their face. Still others had no qualms about pointing and giggling. "Now this..." Rogue said in a tone that was several octaves lower then her usual melodic speaking voice. "...is a pathetic display."

Scott leapt up from the ground and scurried to Jean. "Jean, honey, this isn't what it looks like."

Jean shook her head. *Fucking idiot,* she thought. *How many times does she have to tell him you can't lie to a telepath?* She didn't respond, but instead reached over and pulled a slice of wheat bread off of Scott's ass. He lowered his head.

"Mary Sue," called out the Professor's voice from somewhere in the crowd. "I think it'd be best if you left."

"I'll file her with the others," piped up Jubilee bitterly.

She was startled by what sounded like some sort of diseased hippo. She looked up and saw a rather large, hairy, brown, monkey/dog-type thing boasting heavy artillery looking back down at her. It moaned.

"Chewie, who are you talking to?" called a masculine voice from somewhere in the bathroom. A tall, dark stranger emerged from the room. "Oh, sorry lady. It's just that our space ship broke down and we need a place to stay. Your back window was open. My name's Han."

Mary Sue nodded in approval. Looks like it'll be a good week. "My name's Mary Sue."

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