Storm had suspected that the town of Stepford was wealthy, but even she was surprised by what she saw as she strolled onto its Main Street. In keeping with the theme from before with the Porsche, Ororo noticed Lamborghinis, Mercedes-Benzes, Ferraris, Bentleys and other highly expensive cars flitting past her. The drivers were just as well-attired as the man speeding through the forest road. She got an uneasy feeling as each driver slowed down slightly when they passed her and looked her over quizzically.
Ororo could see the citizens of Stepford going about their day, and what she saw caused her to stop in her tracks. The men looked like something out of the early 1960s. They all wore suits, ties and their hair was finely coifed. They came in all shapes and sizes, from thin and stringy to well-built athletes. There were even a few portly body-types. Most were handsome in their own way, but apart from their near-formal attire and sense of absolute neatness, there was really nothing that caused them to stand out.
The women, however, were a different story entirely. Most shopped in groups, while others were alone. Storm noticed the ones shopping alone moved with deliberate purpose on their sky-high heels, as if being alone was a chore to be completed as quickly as possible. Those with families clung submissively to their men or dutifully cared for their children, almost more like maids than mothers. All wore the same serene smile Ororo had seen earlier from the redhead in the Porsche. Without exception, every woman sported perfect, heavily-styled hair. Their complexions seemed absolutely flawless, which was made even more evident by just the right amount of makeup adorning each woman's face. Storm looked around and doubted that there was a single blemish on the entire street. Some of the women were clearly shorter or taller than the others, but it was obvious that they all shared one clear trait. Every single woman, as far as Ororo could see, was the perfect combination of fashion model and silicone-pumped pornstar. Their curvaceous bodies were squeezed into the tiniest of micro-mini sundresses that accentuated their almost identical hourglass figures. Each bust had to be no smaller than a double-E with a shrunken, toned waist. To top it all off, their forms would flare out dramatically by the woman's well-rounded hips and well-cushioned backsides. These walking wet-dreams were now just another piece in the ever-increasing puzzle that was Stepford, to the confused and surprised mutant.
Storm sighed to herself, realizing that if she thought these women looked strange, she could only imagine what they all must think of her. Clearly, there was some sort of twisted dress-code or fashion craze sweeping through Stepford and here she was, walking down the street in her skintight X-Men uniform with her white Mohawk reaching off her scalp and towards the heavens. As she walked by, all activity seemed to pause. The men that were guiding their wives furrowed their brows, as if to alert her right away that she was an outsider and not welcomed. The women gasped in fright and some even held their dainty, perfectly manicured hands up to their glossy mouths in an overly feminine gesture of disbelief. Storm then heard one of the children ask innocently,"Mommy, why's that lady's hair so tall?" Storm held her resolve and she continued on. If she could face the forces of Apocalypse, Mr.Sinister, Magneto as well as the Sentinels, she could deal with some misguided townsfolk.
She decided, based on her reception on the street, that the best course of action would be to find the police station or a hospital. This gave her time to get a lay of the land. All around her, the buildings screamed of a high level of luxury and opulence that the tall mutant wasn't used to. Although she had been born in New York City,most of her childhood had been spent in the Egyptian Capital of Cairo and never during that time, nor as a teacher at the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning,had she ever encountered such lavish architecture. Every single building was built out of stone or brick and had a very European feel about them. There were crisp awnings for every shop and perfectly designed floral arrangements lining the sidewalk. Storm noticed that there wasn't a trace of litter on the street or sidewalk, and while that might have been a pleasant change from the norm, all of this was adding up to an overall unnatural feeling about this place.
As she continued to scan the street, the nature of the shops caught her attention. An oddly high number of them were high-end boutiques, several located directly next to each other in a long row. She could see groups of giddy women spilling in and out of them. The women that were leaving had young, male attendants carrying their many bags for them. All of the boutiques claimed to stock the latest in desirable fashions for women, and Ororo saw firsthand how much of a hit the shops were. Also, the number of spas and salons seemed to be higher than necessary for a simple American Main Street, but then again she was realizing that there was certainly nothing simple about Stepford.
As she continued to scan the town for any clue of a police car, or even a public servant of any sort, Ororo noticed a building that rose higher than the rest in the distance. It was clearly the largest building, at the very least, in this part of town. There were words carved into the top of the building's front flat stone wall, the overall aesthetic gave Ororo the impression it could be a museum. Could this be the Stepford Town Hall or some official government building where she could finally find help? Storm shrugged her shoulders and figured that this would be as good of place as any to start asking for medical help for her friends.
Ororo kept walking, and was now getting desperate. She tried a few times to stop some of the passers-by if the tall building was the town hall or where the police station was. She was constantly met with confused or even glaring looks. Mothers and, even some of the fathers, shielded their children from her. As a mutant she was used to a certain level of wariness and mistrust from the general human public, but it was never anything like this. At this point, she would settle for a grocery store, library and especially a hospital. Her mind drifted to Rogue and Gambit and how much they needed her to make progress.
Storm was so lost concentrating on the task at hand that she never spotted the white limousine that slowed down in front of a nearby store as she passed it by at the same moment. The driver got out, circled round to the back door and nearly walked directly into the female X-Man. She jumped slightly at the sudden interruption. He glared daggers at her, as if she was some sort of delinquent, before striding past her to the limo's back door. Storm's brow furrowed at this obvious sign of disrespect and the normally serene woman's temper flared to the point she contemplated telling the driver just where he could shove his judgmental issues. Breathing deeply, Storm calmed her anger and forced herself to concentrate on her comrades. They were injured and waiting her return to the crash-site with help. It wouldn't do any good to make a scene over something that really was so trivial. Ororo continued on and a smiled to herself thinking that she was happy it was herself dealing with these intolerant people. If it had been Wolverine, the town of Stepford really might be wiped off the map and this time, nobody would have been able to find them.
Glancing up at the storefront display, Storm figured that this had to be a bridal boutique. The faceless female mannequins in the window were dressed in virginal white low-cut flowing bridal gowns. Despite the pure white color, the obvious overt sex appeal of the dresses was not lost on Ororo. She hid a smile when she saw that the dummies' figures matched the curvaceous body-types of the town. Were there any women in Stepford with normal female figures, she wondered to herself.
Storm never saw the driver open the back door to the limo, and certainly never saw the pair of perfect legs swing out into the sunny Stepford afternoon. The driver helped a short, shapely brunette, followed by a tall platinum blonde out of the limo. The brunette's body, squeezed into a skintight, canary-yellow mini-dress that ended just at the curve of her cushioned ass. The plunging neckline of the dress put her huge, gravity-defying chest on full display. On account of her shorter stature, the girl's ridiculous curves were her chief attribute, and she practically jiggled her way over to the store's entrance on what had to be seven-inch heels. Her taller, and what looked to be somewhat older friend, meanwhile, smiled happily at the bevy of women shopping that day and giggled to herself in a high-pitched, girlish pitch. She wore a purple long-sleeved mini-dress as well as equally impractical heels as her friend. In any other town, the two women, pictures of heightened sexuality, would have been enough to stop traffic but in Stepford they fit right in.
It was only when Storm noticed, out of the corner of her eye, a shapely shop girl mince out of the boutique that she began to pick up on what was happening. The ridiculous velvety purring voice she heard had to have come from the shop girl, "Ah, Miss Kitten. It is such a pleasure to host yourself and your Maid of Honor, Mrs. Eberhart, today at The Stepford Bridal Boutique. Won't you two lovelies please come inside?"
Storm stopped dead in her tracks. It wasn't the purring voice of the shop girl, nor the frantic fit of giggles that soon followed that drew her attention. It was one of the names. Miss Kitten? Storm turned around quickly but only heard the machine gun-like click-clack of high-heels on the cement sidewalk and only saw the swaying forms of a platinum blonde and a tiny brunette make their way into the store. She never saw a face. The wheels began spinning in Ororo's head. A brunette whose height matched Kitty's that was called Miss Kitten? And her missing friends had disappeared somewhere around here? It would be a cruel joke if this turned out to be anyone other than Kitty Pryde. But what would the strong, independent, duty-first Kitty be doing in a place like this? Would she be undercover? Again, another piece in the ever expanding puzzle that was this town.
Storm sighed and looked around the street. She knew what she had to do. Ororo gave a long, questioning look at the driver who just stared back at her, his chiseled face softening a bit into a smile. But it wasn't a welcoming smile. It was more like a predator's while stalking its prey, almost like he had cornered her. The look gave Storm a very uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Still, Ororo reminded herself of the multitude of threats she and the X-Men had dealt with and she vowed she would never allow anything to happen to her here. No matter what she had to do to insure the success of her mission. Ororo took one last weary glance at the limo driver before ducking into the bridal boutique to investigate.