Task Two

We lost my brother, Lyle, last week. I am not too sad. At least it wasn't me. I decided then that if I were to survive the boardroom, I would become the new PM. The only downside is that I can not talk. I created really rad memos for my team.

I pranced into our meeting room. I see Professor X shooting me daggers. Nepharia was waiting patiently. Jon was MIA again. The only person that could hear my thoughts was Mr. Clean. I thought I better make an outline of my proposal for this week's task:

Everyone grabs a copy of my agenda.

"Mr. Muggles, You know that three of the four things you named are not schools, and where is Jon??" Nepharia said. Right after, she said that, here came Jon.

"What I miss?" He asked

Mr. Clean looked at him. "Well, Bennett's son got fired. Your butt is safe...for now."

Jon glanced at my agenda and said, "Hmm...how about Springfield Heights Institute of Technology?"

Nepharia shook her head. "As much as the short hand version of it would be fun. We need something menacing."

Professor X looked up. "What about my school? Easy in, and I could manipulate some of the students. We have students that kill in one breath."

"Well, that might work" Nepharia agreed.

"I second that. It is better than the Big Brother house. Granted it would give us some TV ex poser," Jon stated.

"Looks like the Professor's school wins," Nepharia announced.

Creative?

I have been called many things, but creative was never one of them.

A logo? I thought? A logo. Hmmmm.

"So what does everyone think it should be?" I asked, trying to generate some ideas.

"It should be a dog!" Mr. Muggles yipped, bouncing as he did so.

"Uh, no, I don't think so," I said.

"I should be something mysterious," Xavier said. "Dogs are hardly mysterious."

"Ok," I said, pondering my options. "Mysterious and not a dog...that doesn't leave me many options."

I paced about the room a bit but no ideas for our logo struck me and decided some air was in order. Leaving the war room and out of the building, the air was actually refreshing, and not something unlike Coruscant. The tall buildings reminded me of my home planet as well as how much I missed it.

Looking up at the tall buildings surrounding me, I wondered Does New York have it's own Palpatine? I was distracted by a sudden squeal of tires and crashing of metal on metal. I turned in time to see a string of cars coming up the curb and straight toward me.

Reacting instantly, I put my hand out, using the force to stay the onslaught of twisted metal and rubber. Still distracted, I did not notice the two men come up on either side of me before they slapped force-inhibiting hand cuffs on my wrists.

They hustled me off and into a white, cliche-like, unmarked van.

It also seemed a bit cliche-like, but I asked the typical question: "What do you want with me?" I asked.

"The Company is very interested in your kind," one man said.

"The Company?" I asked, half smiling. I held up my force-inhibitor cuffs. "These are hardly standard issue," I said. "And not likely something you would know to use on anyone but me."

One of the gentlemen smiled. The other responded, "Someone told us about your special skills and gave us those to help bring you in." Everyone was quiet the rest of the ride until the vehicle stopped. The driver got out and opened the back doors to let us out. The two men sitting with me, stepped out and then motioned for me to follow.

That was when the gunfire exploded. Not having my force powers to rely upon, I dove for the floor of the van until the noise died down.

"Come on!" yelled someone at the back of the van. Looking up I saw a young man with an ouzi: It was Lyle.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, scrambling up from the deck and crawling from the back of the van. Lyle was searching the bodies of my escorts and retrieved a key for my cuffs.

Unlocking my cuffs, they fell away from my wrists. "Bennett, er, my dad said to keep an eye on you because there had been some noise about causing problems with the competition -- and the Company had never seen the likes of some of the participants."

"Nice," I said. "So now what"

"Well," he began, stepping away from me and to some of the other bodies, he started rifling through their clothes, "we have to get out of here, but the key is very special."

"Special in what way?" I asked. "If you tell me what you're looking for, I can help you rummage through some of the bodies."

"It's a unique shape," he said, "you'll know it when you find it."

We searched for a few minutes before I found it: a perfectly shaped black cube that fit nicely into my palm. I tossed it to him and we ran together to the door leading out of the parking garage. He inserted it into the lock and snapped it in. As a reward, the garage door slowly opened. We grinned at one another and we slipped out into the city.

The key gave me the perfect idea for our logo: