Logan had come home from a mission, he had a beer bottle in his hand.. His eye visibly twitched with unbridled irritation at the sight of the labeled cinnamon buns..

“You know what pisses me off? When I come home, to MY CABIN, and I look on the counter and I see cinnamon buns that Wade made last night with a note saying “DON’T EAT”. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? WHY CAN’T I EAT THEM?! This is MY cabin, this is MY KITCHEN COUNTER, these are MY cinnamon buns, that’s MY saran wrap Wade used to cover the cinnamon buns-, that’s MY sticky note that Wade used to make the note, that’s MY PEN that Wade used to write “DON’T EAT”. IT GETS BETTER! I open the fridge, they all have their names on different foods! “This is Jean’s”, “This is Scott’s”, “Howlett, do not eat this”.. WHAT AM I, AN ANIMAL?! This is MY CABIN! I can eat whatever I want!- anything under this roof is- IS MINE! You got that? When you fucks get your own homes, I’m gonna come to your homes and I’m gonna eat EVERYTHING IN SIGHT and put little sticky notes reading “Look what Logan ate!” AHAHAHAHAHA!”

He was losing it..