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Devil Doll: "Here we are, ready for another round of Ask Logan."
Logan: "Aren't you ever gonna get tired of doin' this?"
Devil Doll: "Not when I'm having so much fun making you miserable."
Devil Doll: "First letter:"
I travel a lot on business, have for years. Now, all of a sudden, my girlfriend's complaining that I'm gone too much, and I don't give her enough warning of when I'm leaving. That's what my job's like, though. What should I do?
Logan: "Boy, do I know what that's like. Damn women act like you can schedule saving the world from destruction or whatever. They just don't understand. Too busy gettin' all annoyed 'bout stuff that don't really matter, like dirty socks on the floor."
Devil Doll: "Those socks were beyond dirty, and they were on my desk."
Logan: "Still, you didn't have to get so flamin' pissed about it."
Devil Doll: *glares at Logan* "You know what, Troubled? I have the perfect solution for you and your girlfriend. All she needs to do is go out and find five or six other guys--"
Logan: "Hold up there, darlin'. That's the worst piece of advice I've ever had the misfortune to hear."
Devil Doll: "Is not. I think it's perfectly reasonable. Troubled's girlfriend just finds some other boys to keep her occupied while he's gone. Problem solved."
Devil Doll: *ignores him* "Okay, next letter:"
I don't like the doctor or the shot they give me, but I have to go. Can you please help me make up a reason not to go? (My mom is really easy to fool.)
I Just Hate The Doctor
Logan: "I'm thinkin' the first thing you need to do is call Child Protective Services and tell them what your ma's doin' to ya. There's no excuse for that kind of abuse, and if I were there right now I'd—"
Devil Doll: "Logan, maybe she needs the shots. Maybe they're for her own good."
Logan: *snorts* "Yeah. Heard that one before."
Devil Doll: "Some people do need to go to the doctor, you know. Not everyone has a healing factor."
Logan: "But she doesn't wanna go!"
Devil Doll: "So what should she do?"
Logan: "Well, I find that clawin' the doctors to death usually works. . ."
Devil Doll: "I doubt that's an option."
Logan: *thinks for a sec* "Hate, you got any berserker rage at your disposal?"
Devil Doll: "Logan…"
Logan: "Cripes, darlin', I’m tryin' here!"
Devil Doll: "I know, but. . .can't you just think of something she can say to get out of the doctor visit? Something that doesn't involve physical violence?"
Logan: "Huh. Okay." *gets real serious look on his face* "Hate, you tell your mom that you don't have to go to the doctor. . ." *bares teeth* ". . .because I said so."
Devil Doll: *meeps*
Logan: *cocks eyebrow* "You like it when I do that, dontcha?"
Devil Doll: *breathless* "A little."
Devil Doll: “Ahem. Yes. Anyway. Let’s read the next letter…”
Logan: "Hold up, princess. I got one right here." *waves letter*
Devil Doll: *confused* "What? Where did you get that?"
Logan: "It was in my email."
Devil Doll: "You don't ever check your email."
Logan: "Sure I do. Wanna hear what it says?"
Devil Doll: "I guess."
Logan: *clears throat rather dramatically*
Why does Adamantium Babes have The Amazing Adventures of Gambit's Ass and not yours? I'm sure your backside has had 'Amazing Adventures,' too.
Devil Doll: "Not this again. You made that up!"
Logan: "Did not!"
Devil Doll: "I'm not giving your butt a page, and that's final."
Logan: "But that's what the people want!"
Devil Doll: "Tough."
Logan: "You're letting my fans down. My ass has an admirer and you don't even care! A whole segment of your audience, just brutally ignored!"
Devil Doll: "Yep."
Logan: "I can't believe this!"
Devil Doll: "Okay, we're done for today." *gets up*
Logan: "What if I promise to stop leavin' my empty beer cans under the couch cushions?"
Devil Doll: "You're not supposed to be doing that anyway!" *leaves room*
Logan: *follows* "Yeah, but this time I'll really stop doin' it, insteada lyin' about it—ow! Hey, watch where you're throwin' that phone now, darlin'. You coulda really—"
Have a problem only Logan can solve? Send it to email@example.com
Thanks to Heather and Khaki for the questions!
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