My apologies for my unfortunate extended absence; please enjoy this chapter. Also, thanks to JottRomyKurtyfan32 for the excellent suggestion (please forgive me for modifying it a tad).

"No problem" is from Horrible Histories, not my amazing mind. "Hit it" is Penguins of Madagascar.

Way #3:

What is the most terrible sound in the world? The sound of a beloved electronic snatched away? The sound of a pop quiz slapped on your desk? The pffft of your own fart causing snickers in math class? For Wolverine, it was the high-pitched giggle that meant only one thing. Three things actually: Thunder, Frostragon and Jaguar.

The old (or at least Thunder, Frostragon and Jaguar called him old) mutant stopped a younger X-man of about fourth grade age who was speeding away from the laughter.

"What the heck is goin' on?"

"They're doing something!" The boy was terrified. "Something horrible! A monstrosity! Abomination! Scandal! Atrocity! Disgrace! Horror! Outrage! A-"

"I get the idea, bub. What are they doing?"

The boy fainted.

Wolverine left him there (a sacrifice for the greater good) and rocketed downstairs to the source of the cackling: the dining hall.

Meanwhile, our annoying heroes were faring well.

"That was awesome!"

Hi-five! Hi-five, hi-five, hi-five!

Wolverine was pressed flat against a wall, stealth mode engaged. Slowly, he began to shuffle forward, quiet as a frog that had just been eaten by a snake and was currently being digested, but that's a story for another day, an expression that here means "the author is too lazy to write about this and will probably never visit this subject again in their entire career, leaving hundreds of readers confused and annoyed".

"Hiya, Tiny Weasel!"

The adolescent girl who had spoken ducked, barely avoiding decapitation.

"What!?"

"I scared ya!" the wily, dark-haired brat- I mean child- named Thunder cried, prancing about. "Scared ya, scared ya, scared ya!"

"Hi!" A smiling blond girl with brown eyes popped out of the wall. She immediately struck a dramatic pose, fist held high in the air, remaining arm akimbo.

"Ta dah!" she yelled maniacally, waving her fist in the air maniacally and grinning maniacally, displaying her wrist watch maniacally. "It's my 'Invisible-inator 453920'!"

"Bub, I think you've had one too many chocolate bars."

The girl gasped in perfect play-shock.

"Too much chocolate? Moi? Never!" The girl pretended to faint, but, two seconds later, was back up again.

"Anyways, Tiny Weasel-" (Wolverine stiffened at the sound of the vexing name) "-we'd like you to meet, insert drum roll here: dun-DUN-dun-DUN-dun-DUN, Sonja!"

A tall, skinny, thirteen-ish girl with shoulder-length black hair stepped forth from the shadows and flashed a brilliant smile that would've put the Sun to shame.

She said nothing, but the expression in her dark blue eyes said something like "Nice to meet you". Or perhaps "Where are the chocolate-chip cookies?" Probably the first one.

She hasn't chosen a code name yet," Jaguar said with a toothy grin. "But that might just be because she has some… 'unorthodox' methods of communication."

The girl smiled again, her eyes glowing with mischief this time. She opened her mouth. A deep, masculine voice issued from the teenage girl's throat.

"Hit it!"

Suddenly the worst pop music, the kind that makes you wish that you could chop your ear off like a certain well-known artist you may or may not have heard of started issuing from Sonja's gaping mouth.

By the end of the song, which was done in a perfect copy of the original singer's voice and included instruments, Logan's neck hair was on end and his eyes were bugging. If he had nerves of steel (as opposed to the nerves of adamantium he so fortunately possessed) he would've fainted by then.

His mouth gaped open as he floundered for breath.

"Yeah!" Thunder shouted as she gave Sonja a high five that would've caused a T-rex's puny appendages to snap. "And, per request, your five dollars, to be delivered later."

The teenage mutant nodded.

"No… problem?" she said in a man's voice with a German accent, sauntering off.

"Who? What?" Wolverine managed to get out.

"When, where, how?" Frostragon helpfully suggested.

"New recruit," Thunder explained. "She just joined, but she is fantastic! Ya see, she loves pranking people almost as much as we do."

"Yep," Frostragon agreed. "Almost."

"But… but," Wolverine gasped, "What on earth was that girl doing? The music… that horrible, awful music. I'm surprised even my healing factor saved me."

"Well," Jaguar explained, now inexplicably dangling upside-down from the large crystal chandelier, "Sonja has a rather unique ability. She can mimic any sound" she was now right-side up again, but still precariously grasping the chandelier with only one arm "-but can only mimic. That music was a perfect repetition of the original.

"Well," she paused, "technically, it's a recording of a recording. She heard that song on Thunder's MP3 player, but you're probably not in the mood for my ramblings. Anyway," she dropped from the chandelier, silently landing on the pure white tablecloth, "She is just plain amazing. We're gonna be bros for life!"

"Yeah!" shouted the three girls in unison, performing a three-way fist bump.

"It's really nice having someone who shares our interests," Thunder grinned wistfully. "She was so excited when she heard about us painting your uniform various shades of pink… Oh no. I said that out loud… Awkward… EVERYBODY RUN!"

"You little PUNNNNKSSSS!"

SNIKT!

Wolverine dove at the three girls, who disappeared at his touch.

"What the-"

"Hologram, Wolvie," Jaguar smiled. "Just one of my little toys. We were technically never here."

"But you high-fived her!"

"A very clever trick of the light," Frostragon replied.

"Now if you'll excuse us," said Thunder, "we'll continue to clean the X-Jet, which makes it a whole…" she checked her wristwatch "10 minutes of work. Wow, it felt like 10.00000000000001 minutes."

"Well," Jaguar said, "Bye-bye!"

The holograms faded.

"You know," Frostragon said, polishing the X-jet's wing, "Thunder, your plan was one of a mad genius. Brilliant."

"Yeah, but someone else deserves that title."

Thunder nodded at Jaguar, who was on top of the X-Jet, scrubbing.

The roommates shared a knowing smile.

That night, as Frostragon and Thunder were dosing off, the thrill of a lifetime snuck up on their semi-peaceful lives.

A figure cloaked in dark vestments stood before them, light spilling in from the open doorway. Shadows cloaked the intruder's face, obscuring its expression. It raised a short, triangular object, and, standing over the sleeping girls, raised the more slender of its ends to its lips and-

"Wake up!" Jaguar whispered into the megaphone. Nothing happened. "Alright," the girl in her dark gray footie pajamas muttered to herself. "Hard way."

She walked over to the girls' beds and, swiftly and without the least bit of hesitation, smacked them upside the head. The girls, that is. Not the beds.

"Ow-mphh!" Thunder screamed, cut off when Frostragon clamped her hand over the young girl's mouth.

"Shut it. Jaguar's payin' a visit, that's all."

She released Thunder.

"So, Jaguar, waddaya want? It's, um, 1:47! A.M.!"

"Well," said Jaguar, her voice low. "I've been working on a project. It's about time you see it."

No offense to fans of pop music, I listen to it myself. Also, pat on the back to anyone who can guess which artist I'm talking about who cut off his ear. Hint: he was a painter.

See ya! ;D