The first day of summer was finally here! The students of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters had a few bones to pick with how the Professor had structured their finals, but they would ignore that for now. They were free for three months after all! At next morning's first light, the younger students besieged their commander-in-mischief's room. 

"Kurt!? Hey Kurt! We need your help," Bobby Drake, also known as Iceman, rapped on his neighbor's door.

"Ja...?" came a groggy voice from inside.

"Come on! Get up; it's the first day of summer vacation and we're already out of stuff to do!"

"It's seven tirty, Iceman!" Kurt groaned. "Can a guy get a liddle peace und kviet!?"

"Nope," snickered another student named Kitty Pryde. "If you don't teleport your furry tail out this door on the count of three, I will personally phase through and drag you out," she called.

Kurt mumbled something incoherent in German.

"One!" Kitty beamed with wicked fun.

A pillow slammed on something hard—presumably Kurt's head.

"Two...!"

Kurt let out an exasperated growl. "Alright, Fine!"

Just before Kitty got to three, a puff of dark violet smoke appeared beside her. It blinked away, leaving behind a very sleep-deprived Kurt Wagner. His dark blue hair and royal blue fur were ruffled in places not even he knew were possible.

"Guten morgen, Shedowket," he glared at Kitty.

"Morning, Nightcrawler!" she smiled deviously and tickled the tip of one of Kurt's pointy ears.

Kurt rolled his eyes and looked over at Iceman. "Not cool, Bobby. Pun intended."

The small group of teens snickered. Even though Kurt wasn't in his usual joking mood, his puns slid out with the regularity of a heartbeat.

"Vat do you vant?" he asked, half-smiling.

"Something to do that doesn't involve reality?" shrugged a jet-haired Asian girl with a bright yellow jacket and neon pink tank top.

Kurt thought for a moment, then his yellow eyes lit up. "Jubilee, you're a genius!"

"Wait, I am?" Jubilee, the somewhat obtuse firecracker of the school, marveled at being referred to as a genius without the usual sarcasm.

"Somesing zat does not involfe reality! I challenge you ol to a videogame tournament!" he announced, arms spread wide.

A muscular, short man walked right through the little crowd regardless of the conversation. "After breakfast," he grunted.

"LOGAN!!" the mutant students groaned. This particular adult was known for dampening the flames of fun, and this morning was not the exception. 

"Not my idea—Chuck's. Get movin' to the shower; things ain't changing just cuz yer out of school," he smirked over his ahoulder.

Another collective moan. Reluctantly, the party broke off to their shared dorms, hurrying through their bathroom routines. A few minutes later, students flew, teleported, swung, sped, or phased into the cafeteria.

At the table in front of the whole cafeteria sat the school's head teachers—better known to the world as the core members of the X-men.

Already sitting before their version of breakfast, the adults watched the student body, each unique in personality and powers, as they ravaged the food buffet.

"I rememba being that age," said a beautiful lady with dark skin, white hair, and sky blue eyes.

"Did dinosaurs roam Africa back then, Storm?" snickered a brown-haired man in ruby sunglasses.

"No, Scott. By that time, it was de Stone Age," she smirked.

"I remimber dat age too," bellowed another of the core team, his broad metal jaw contorting into a smile. "Let us just say eet was not fun et all."

"Try my teen years, Ruski," Logan playfully slashed at his friend's titanium-plated arm with his adamantium claws.

"My nem iz Colossus, not Ruski," the Russian metal mutant laughed heartily.

"You get the point," said a sweet, pretty redhead.

"Aren't we still technically teens, Jean?" Scott asked the ginger, who sat beside him.

"You're thirty; I'm twenty-five," she smirked back.

"So that's a no," smiled a large, blue, furry man in a matter-of-fact aura. He set his giant stack of French toast next to Storm

"Let him live in denial, Beast," Jean winked.

"Hey!" Scott jabbed his girlfriend's arm, almost knocking over his orange juice.

Logan noisily plopped down his sausage-loaded plate. "What about you, Chuck? You seem to be awful quiet in  the middle of a juicy conversation."

Charles, the headmaster of the school, raised his bald head curiously. "Pardon, I was so focused on breakfast I didn't even notice what you were saying!" he chuckled in his silky British accent.

"We weh toking about the youngeh years," Storm filled him in. "How it used to be when we got out of school."

"Well," Professor Xavier paused, thinking. "Most of it was spent reading," he laughed.

"Oh my gosh, ya giant nerd!" Logan snorted. He hardly cared who he was addressing when he spoke to Charles.

"Little known fact, I was also what the young ones now call a 'jock'."

Scott, who was a lover of all things manly and athletic, stopped chewing and paid avid attention.

"Believe or not, I was a star runner of my preparatory's track team," he beamed.

"You!?" exclaimed everyone at the table except for Beast, ho had known Charles long before Magneto accidentally did a permanent number on the Professor's spine.

Charles nodded with a tinge of conceit in his bearing. Don't be so shocked, he smirked as he used his telepathy to speak into the mind of everyone at the table.

Scott, who was still trying to process the out-of-character information, let his eyes roam around the cafeteria. It now looked like a ghost town.

"Weird," he wondered aloud. "They were just here!"

"Videogame tournament. Whole school," Logan said through a mouthful of pancakes slathered in the syrup of his homeland.

"Oh," everyone said in unison.

The conversation dwindled to small talk, and one by one the adults broke off to not-grade-papers.

Inside every dorm, nearly every student was logged onto the computer for the only online game allowed—Ship Racer Z.
The scoreboard had already eliminated Iceman, Icarus, Magik, Psylocke, Wolfsbane and Sunspot. In the top ranks were Rogue, Shadowcat, Havok, Quicksilver, and the undisputed first place—Nightcrawler.

"Alright Speed_God6 I'm on your tail!" Kurt exulted over his headset.

"And that's where you stay!" Quicksilver barked back, afraid to death of losing his lead.

"C@n't_Tuch_Dis coming through!" Kitty squealed as her futuristic purple racer sped trough Quicksilver's powerup.

"WHAT!?!" Kurt and Pietro cried amazed.

"Sorry, Hun, can't allow that," a southern voice drawled into Kitty's headset.

"Aw, Rogue!" Kitty growled. A green-and-yellow ship had used its signature move, called "Power Drain," leaving her fuel-less, stranded, and seven ranks behind.

Suddenly, a new player blinked into the race. The new, light blue ship had the single custom allotted to novice players—a little turbo jet. Above it, in pixelated white letters read, "RaceMaster1970."

Against all odds, this new player began to climb up in the ranks.

"Who hacked the game!?" everyone thought frantically.

Soon this player was in Top 5—now Top 3! Without a single turbo boost, RaceMaster1970 managed to pass Rogue, and was now wresting Kurt for his reigning championship.

Kurt opened a new channel on his headset. "Excuse me, who is RaceMaster1970?"

"What, I'm not allowed to join the fun?" Charles answered lightheartedly from his own headset.

I had tons of fun writing this one! The X-men are kind of my stans (even more than the Avengers), so writing them a humorous scenario was no problem. I have more coming soon! Do you guys also think Charles would occasionally crush his students in a videogame tournament from time to time?