Alles Ist Veruckt
By: Dannell Lites
Ah don't own Nightcrawler or any of the other X-Men:(:(
*sniffle* *sniffle* Ah wish! Ah would surely treat them better and that's a
promise! GRRRRRR! This is a fanfic for entertainment purposes only and not
a'tall meant to infringe on copyrights held by Marvel Comics or any others, so
don't sue moi! *eeeppp*
Rated G for pure as the driven
This is respecfully dedicated to Dave Cockrum, the creator of
the wonderful Kurt Wagner, AKA Nightcrawler! You asked for a Nightcrawler fic,
Dave, and here it is!:):) It's just a little ol' vignette of a story, but very
heartfelt, believe moi, Dave!:):) *smootchie* Hope y'all
Alles ist veruckt ...
Alles ist geht bin Holle
~"Alles Ist Veruckt" ~ - a popular German song during war
Kurt Wagner hunkered down on the park bench, pulling the collar of
his concealing great coat up closer to his ears, to cover his face in shadow. He
resisted the urge to pull his large slouch hat down further around his pointed
This was dangerous. He knew that. He should be safely ensconced in
the heart of his family, the people of Der Jahrmart Circus right now, watching
television in his trailer or perhaps laughing and playing cards with Karl and
Hans between steins of good German beer.
But where was he? Here in this
small town sitting nervously on a park bench, staring at his watch, waiting none
too patiently for the time to pass. Soon it would be time. Soon the theatre
would be open for its evening performance. Soon would come the comforting sticky
popcorn darkness lit only by the flickering images on the silver screen. He
smiled, thinking once again of the garish marque that caught his attention,
hidden in the back of the colorful circus wagon during their parade into
ERROL FLYNN FILM FESTIVAL the bright lights proclaimed, all red and
green and loud aggressively blinking yellow splashes of incredible
COME ONE, COME ALL! they urged and Kurt breathed a great sigh of
His three fingered hand itched for an invisible sword.
'Just you and I, Errol,' he thought with a smile. 'Just you and I.
The mishapen mutant closed his glowing yellow eyes, settling back
to relax on the old wooden bench. In the depths of his imagination the
adventurous music swelled. Swords flashed. His chest bubbled with rising
"Ho, Gisbourne! You need a lesson or two in how best to treat a
lady!" asserted the Scourge of Sherwood, his polished high leather boots and his
sword alike gleaming in the torchlight of Nottingham Castle.
Gisbourne (that black hearted knave!) snarled and lunged forward, his blade
seeking the other man's heart.
Kurt Wagner met the riposte and, with a
flourish, easily repelled it, sidestepping neatly away.
"To say nothing
of a few lessons in swordsmanship, My Lord!" the elfin warrior laughed. With his
prehensile tail the jolly, agile fighter grabbed a cup of wine from off the
table at his back, bringing it to his lips, sipping descriminately.
smacked his lipswith relish. "Ahhhh! A rather common vintage, it's true," he
opined lightly, "but not without its own small charms, wouldn't you say ...
With that jest, the tail, still wrapped tightly around the goblet,
lashed outand cracked Gisbourne smartly over the head with the empty metal
"For Good King Richard!"cried the triumphant outlaw.
speak treason, My Lord," whispered the defeated Gisbourne, slipping insensible
to the cold stone floor.
"Fluently!" exhorted the chortling
Of a dudden his arms seemed to be overflowing with a warm
beautiful woman. "My hero!" excaimed the grateful Maid Marion and kissed him
firmly on the lips.
His pleasant daydream dissolved precipitously in the
acid sound of childish weeping. Vas ist... ?
The little girl was quite
small, her golden blond hair tied back with a neat pink hair bow that matched
the lace of her carefully starched dress. Her dimpled cheeks and large blue eyes
were red with falling tears. Kurt stirred uneasily on his bench, biting his
He shouldn't. He really shouldn't ...
'Who are you kidding,
Kurt Wagner?" he asked himself. "You? Resist a Damsel in Distress? Never
happen." He regarded the child silently. 'All right ... so she's a little young
... but a Damsel for sure and she's definitely in distress.'
coat pocket he proffered a handkerchef, handing it to the crying
"There, there, liebling," he soothed. "Dry your eyes and tell me
"L-Liseelotte," she hiccupped.
"Liselotte, my name is
Kurt. What's wrong little one? Why are you so sad?"
Liselotte blew her
nose and answered with a quivering bottom lip. "I can't find my Momma or my
Poppa. I went to see the candy in the shop window and they were gone! Now I
can't find them anywhere." The small girl looked up at Kurt with pleading eyes.
"Do you know here my Momma and Poppa went?"
Without thought, the child
reached out and took his hand, startling the mutant. Leiber Gott! She would be
able to feel the fur! To ...to *see* ...
"Your hand feels funny,"
Liselotte said, staring openly now at the three thick fingers and the velvety
blue fur. Kurt recoiled,waiting for the screams. "You have fur!" Liselotte
finally squealed, delighted. "How wonderful! I'll call you
"P-Pooh-Bear?" the suddenly less than demonic mutant inquired
weak voiced. "Aren't you ... aren't you afraid?"
Liselotte shook her head
vigorously, shaking her golden curls,rubbing thefinal tracesoftrearsfromher
eyes. "Scared of a big cuddly Pooh-Bear? Never!" came the firm dismissal of the
very thought. She giggled, covering her mouth with one chubby hand. "Silly
'So now I'm a Pooh-Bear,' Kurt's thought was extremely wry,
highly chagrined. 'Ach du lieber! The shame of it ... '
The tiny hand
engulfed in his larger one squeezed the blunt fingers.
"Can you help me
find my Momma and Poppa, Mr.Pooh-Bear?" was the plaintive request. "I'm
With a spreading grin that threatened to claim the whole of his
face, Kurt Wagner bounded to his feet. Unseen, beneath the long, concealing
great coat,his shield ad protection, his tail twitched in anticipation of
"Of course, I can, Fair Damsel!" he cried.
'damsel'?" Liselotte demanded, ever suspicious of condescention as is the nature
Kurt chuckled, kissing the back of her childish hand with a
sweeping bow. "A damsel, liebchen, is a very beautiful young lady. A Fairy
Princess," he informed her.
The little girl's great blue eyes widened
"You're a very nice man," Liselotte opined with a bright
smile. Kurt Wagner smiled back, then gusted a quick sigh. 'But I don't *want* to
be a nice man,' he thought sternly. "I want to be the devil may care terror of
the Spanish Main ...! Ach du Liber! What a fate! A "nice man" ... ' He knelt,
straightening the now slightly disarrayed pink hair bow in its nest of blond
curls. To his surprise and astonishment Liselotte hugged him fiercely.
"OOOOO," she crooned happily, stroking his cheek, "Your soft ...really,
really soft ... "
'Now I'm a giant plush toy,' was the future X-Man's
'Well, enough of that. There are worse things than
being a "nice man",' he reminded himself with a large grin. He was careful not
to reveal his fangs, of course and frighten the small girl. Taking her tiny
hand, he said, "Well, liebchen, let us go and find your Momma and your Poppa,
Skipping along at her new found friend's side Liselotte hummed and
then, giggling, joined in on the chorus of "It's Not Easy Being Green".
Kermit!" she enthused.
Kurt barely managed not to sigh once
more. 'Mein Gott!' he mourned. 'First I'm a "Pooh-Bear" ... then I'm aplush toy
and now I'm a talking frog. A muppet, yet! Will this humiliation never
But he smiled when he thought it and that made all the
Everything's going to Hell ..."