There once was a short boy named Qui. He was an avid comic book reader. He loved reading Marvel, the creation of Stan Lee. His favorite characters were in the X-Men, a group of mutants who banded together and used their powers to defend the human race (despite the animadversion from anti-mutants). For his obsessions, Qui was often bullied. Even his mother propounded that he take on a new hobby, but like the superheroes of his stories, he ignored all the critics.
One afternoon Qui was walking home from the train station when he saw a group of guys from school loitering in front of the corner store. They were shoving each other around like the loud, obnoxious pigs they were. One guy Raphael dropped his sandwich and exclaimed a histrionic cry. “Oh no! My sandwich! Poor me! Who will buy me another one?” He turned and accosted Qui, stopping him in his tracks. “Will you Queef-man? Being the noble hero you are, I’m sure you’d help me in my dilemma.” Qui’s pejorative refusal earned him a personal introduction to Suckerpunch, yet another villain in his life. So with celerity (as much as possible while recovering from the previous encounter) Qui gave up his money for the greater good: poor Raphael’s sandwich.
When Qui got home he maintained a halcyon appearance in case his mother was around, but he later cried himself to sleep. It was that night he had an amazing dream that sprouted incendiary thoughts. In the dream Storm, the smexy, smart mutant who could control the weather, his absolute favorite lady superhero visited him at night. She flew in through his open window and landed with a flourish. Even though his mutant crush was standing there in the flesh in his room, Qui maintained propriety and managed a hello. His voice cracked a little. Storm was not there for entertainment however, she was merely a suppliant. She asked him to visit an ill friend with her. Qui of course agreed summarily so they flew together to a house on the Massachusetts coast. Inside, he met a bedridden Kurt Wagner (also known as Nightcrawler, a blue mutant who could teleport). Qui was distraught to see a favorite hero of his in such a state. The blue thing beckoned him closer and whispered to him “It’s a maelstrom out there, retaliate with the good in your heart. Don’t stop at just defending those you hold dear…” It took a while for Qui to understand him through his thick German accent, but he finally received the message when Nightcrawler pushed his coveted rosary into Qui’s hand. Kurt sat back and closed his eyes. His breathing stilled. Qui cried out objections, in shock that Nightcrawler was dead. Internally, he made a covenant to always follow the hero’s words. Storm kindly pulled him back and consoled him. It was when they started flying back together that Qui woke up.
The window was open and his curtains were undulating in the wind. He looked down and there on his bed was an overt talisman: a worn rosary. Thinking it would be sacrilege for anyone else to touch the chain, he wrapped it around his wrist and rolled over to sleep grasping the cross tight.
The next morning as he got ready for school Qui thought of a genius (though myopic) plan to keep his promise. At lunch he initiated his gambit by “accidentally” spilling Raphael’s drink.
“Get me another drink Queef-man!”
Qui handed the bully a new drink, but it was tainted with a special surprise. One sip of the brackish liquid and Raphael spit it out. “What the hell is that?! Ooooh you’re gonna get it Queef-man!” And so that is how a dream led to Qui’s death. His misguided devious methods forced Raphael into a frenzy. Qui received a kick that went so far up his rear that his mother felt a prick right before he passed away. It was a tragic death, but in the end Raphael was sent to jail and comic book nerds everywhere went on using Qui as an example why you shouldn’t bully others. No longer was he called Queef-man. He was called Nightcrawler from that point on (because he turned a fantastic shade of blue right before Raphael released his foot).