The king size bed creaked as Queen Elizabethy the 13th rolled over onto her side and covered her scars with a blanket made of bearskin. A flame burned hot beside her as her husband pulled out to light a similar sized presidente cigar hanging from his mouth.

“That was some good action right there,” said Killin Hood, blowing smoke out of his nose with supreme satisfaction.

He adjusted the tobacco with one hand and used the other to smack her fat bottom undercover. She blushed while opening the drawer to the night table. Killin Hood picked up a massive book from the opposite table while his wife picked up a tray full of powder and stuck a straw to her cyborg nostrils.

“You know the lady who wrote this Mayn Reed was half elf and full genius,” said Killin Hood, from behind the pages of “Bogus Bounced”.

Elizabethy snorted in amusement.

“I had her locked up for blasphemy, the crystals are everything to me and she rejected them to instead worship noble business men, crazy bitch haha,” she laughed, and then snorted some more.

Killin Hood scowled and slammed the covers shut. He removed his trusted remote and turned on the giant crystal ball on the far wall. It lit up into an infomercial for Eval torture tools.  He growled like a werewolf while he switched through the channels finding nothing of substance before eventually settling on a livestream view of the city outside the blinds.

“Clang!”

The silver tray had been polished off, and thrown to the hard ceder floors below. Elizabethy’s helmet blinked with crystal lights while she inched in wrapping her naked body around Killin Hood like a snake. He blew smoke in her face.

“Ravage me again,” she cried, undeterred.

Her husband picked up her remote control hit vibrate, then mute.

In Tenare they were only two who really mattered in making the coming prosperity of a reinvigorated human empire. This ceremonious routine had always gone on at any time in history that mattered and now they were committed to all the acts. The newlyweds partied together in a swingers lounge at sundown while servants carried out an endless buffet. The punishment of crime and bad girls was a sacred thing to accompany marriages. As part of the twelve day affair everyday would feature different sorts of sports. All games were legal to hunt for King.

They continued boogieing in the club, while his trusted men were cleaning out the prisons with guns. The music was trashy and hedonistic; just like he was after work. He had won with every royal already either dead or in prison. The bar was an outside circle around the roller rink. There the rocket skates turbo charged with magma thrusters. Killin Hood got real low while he sliced the kneecaps of his opponent. He boogied back around to his wife who had found a playmate. The parks flew as Elizabethy the 13’s chainsaw tore into the fresh flesh of a rival cyborg. The surrounding crowd erupted in celebration.

Her prized 1 zillion crystal was locked away in a fort, while Killin Hood had pulled another surprise this morning at her palace. This second sacred day had started with a sick little trick of his own.She had opened the royal dresser to see three of her sons hung by her pantyhose. It was the entire backup section of the death drag piercers dead and gone. The flies, and maggots had gotten to the bodies long before she had found them. Roger, and Cap lay exposed with all their teeth knocked out and their guts played with.

“What the..!”

“Shhh,” said Killin Hood, manually silencing her using both hands and all his fingers.

She grabbed onto his crotch hard as she could in revenge. “You’re a wicked man aren’t you?” she nervously cackled, going for his balls in a last ditch effort for control.

“I don’t play games,” he replied, grabbing her throat, and lifting her towards an open window.

The curtains blew back from the fast windstorm at midnight. Her feet dangled from the top of a crystal tower while lightning conducted the apex. The rain soaked her leather skirt but her eyes were dry due to being kept under the lock of a cyborg helmet brain damaged. She revved her chainsaw arm, but it was toothless to resist his remote control.

“Is that all..gut..” she choked out while her husband constricted like a boa constrictor.

“Get gut or kiss my ring, now dance I’m King,” he instructed, making his free fingers puppeteer in the rain with glee.

 

The first days of the wedding ceremony had gone off without a hitch. Well except for the missing refreshments. They had been stuck drinking schlock while the shipment of jungle juice was late, but Isebella, his head witch, had assured him it was mid-flight en route for tonight.  The event had started with a parade down the royal main street. It had rumbled as the trumpets blew, and the elephants sounded their trunks. Then the military had marched with a thousand elite guard uniforms sparkling in the three suns high above. The tanks had driven over the curb draped in ceremonial tapestries while their airships did tricks above. It had all been capped off with a showing of ultimate power, as each of the 12 crystal types was displayed in the open. Each kind a massive ore as big as they had, and pulled through on floats sparkling, and humming with enough energy to level the entire block if something went wrong. But nothing did.

The parade had ended at the royal garden where the crowd of hundreds of thousands of commoners in attendance were held back. Inside the Queen had walked along the path lined with what remained of her family, and the nobles. Her zillion dollar belt purred like a cat, while her husband walked in front in a suit of similar value. They reached the end of the red carpet where a crystal priest was waiting.

“Do you accept this man's advances," said the servant of crystals.

“Yes I do,” said Elizabethy the 13th, as she stroked the combined belt of all 12 he had given her.

Killin Hood was outfitted with the king’s crown freshly minted as the other had gone missing.

“I assure you that I'm not like the other kings, but you all know that as my situation is rather unorthodox. All the changes I make will ensure that all citizens have more money going forward and the love between us is crazy thick,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.

They embraced inside the big gazebo while the surrounding crowd clapped. After they had finished they each sat on the thrones that had been moved to the park. Servants dashed around carrying trays of stink bugs, and setting a buffet of Killin company cured meats with edible flowers. In the background doves splashed in a brand new fountain containing a statue of the newlyweds likeness.

The band began to play fiddles, flutes, oboes, and trombones. Killin Hood fired up the grill, and began cooking a mountain of marinated steaks he had butchered himself. Kegs of schlock were rolled in, and red plastic cups were filled to the brim with the foamy substance. The bass player arrived late, as the air became funky. The firepit roared into the night while the newlyweds got into their limo. The driver took them straight to the airport where they boarded the zeppelin marked with K.C. They crossed the threshold, while far below them the hundreds of thousands gathered in the stands of the coliseum erupted. After the first round in the sack, the two moved to the air deck and where they got front row seats to the fight below.

The zeppelin circled just above the stadium while the knights fought each other, and waves of zombies in a battle royal below. The floor had been set with a maze-like labyrinth of an obstacle course full of traps, while their weapons had been sharpened. The rules were simple: whoever was the last man standing would become a noble. And zombies didn’t count as people. The crowd cheered, and jeered, as knights fought and died for a chance at a better life, and their amusement. Killin Hood uncorked his last bottle of jungle juice, and filled his wife’s glass. She reclined in the sunset, while he put his feet up on the rail. The pair drank and laughed at the suffering of others below, and even took turns puffing on his cigar.

The air outside the zeppelin blew cold, as it climbed higher into the clouds. The darkness engulfed them as the night arrived. Capital City sparkled far below them as the pair held hands down the hallway to the master bedroom.

 

At the same time the big rig truck flew through the air being towed by a slow flying junker airship. It groaned, shifting its load through the air while the magnet above held it tight. The cabin was dark and had no windows on account of being rebuilt and reinforced by Jed. Now the truck had been stolen, and was on its way to the capital city.

Edward was hiding behind the bucket seats full of bullet holes. He clutched his hook while slipping in and out of consciousness. Without the constant zapping of electricity through his body his artificial heart was beating irregularly, even with a constant IV dripping of vitamins. He dreamed of love, and roses, but was shocked back awake by the prickly thorns. The air had become thick with storm clouds that spattered acid rain outside, while thunder boomed. He crawled to the front of the vehicle, and burned himself with the cigarette lighter to keep him awake. Then he threw the door open, and used the hook to pull himself to the roof. A burst of lightning shot out nearby crackling the clouds. He aimed and shot the hook, but was too slow on the draw. His vision was dimming as did the sky.

“One more try,” he murmured to himself, smacking his forehead.

The hook pulled itself back into the socket just as the thunder began to boom. Edward saw the lighting sparking from the heavens danger close, and grinned.

“ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!”

This launch was a direct hit, and his mutated body was revived as the skeleton smoked. He climbed back inside the cabin, a happy camper just as the guards on the ship above looked down. They saw nothing, but held their nose at what smelled to be a fried rat somewhere aboard.

 

“Rusty six, this is flight control. We see you coming in with the wedding gift, but you're flying a little low, over” said ground control.

There was no response.

“Rusty six, we are going to have some fighter planes escort you, over,”

“Static..”

“All air patrol units can we get a close read on rusty six, over”

“Already ahead of you ground control we are flying right beside her, over,” responded the voice.

“Ok i’m not getting any communication from them, does everything look alright onboard?” said ground control.

“Uhh.. well we don’t see anybody on deck, but it seems to be flying alright just a little low,over,” said the air patrol.

“Rusty six do you read me, over”.

“static,”

The three planes continued escorting the rusted out ship painted on the sides with “repo,”. Its flight trajectory continued to get lower and lower as it descended towards the capital city. A plane rolled sideways and right on top of it as the co-pilot got out his binoculars.

“Hold on for a second Frank that looks like a trail of blood along the deck,” she exclaimed.

On the edge of the runway below the aircontrol watched through a telescope. The tower was in chaos as papers were knocked over, and ideas thrown against a dart board.

“Air patrol, we are going to need one of your co-pilots to parachute onto the deck of that ship, and fix its course before it crashes if possible,” said air control.

The big rig twisted and knocked from side to side midair as the turbulence increased. The descent was getting sharper by the second. Meanwhile a pilot gripped the controls with a grimace, as the co-pilot readied himself for the test of a lifetime.

“Ok Betty, we are almost at the point, we both eject on 3.2.1..Go.”

“POP!”

The plane launched out two seats, and then careened out of control. The two aboard flew over the hull of rusty six, and pulled their chutes at the last second. The pilot overshot and fell by the wayside as his plane exploded into the countryside below. Betty’s chute was caught on rusty six as she dangled over the side in the air. She pulled herself up while the wind whistled, and the angle of descent intensified.

Back on the tower overlooking the runway, beads of sweat were running like a flood. The payload was rapidly descending, and it looked much too quick. They held their breath as it got closer and closer to exploding on the tarmac. The big rig started scraping as sparks flew from underneath, and everyone winced. At the last second Rusty six angled upwards, and the cargo lifted back into the air. Then it slowed a bit before the magnet dropped the payload that slid forward in one piece. The air control tower burst into cheers as Rusty six bounced once, and came to a stop at the very end of the runway.

Killin Hood raced to the area in his zeppelin. By the time he was on the ground of the airstrip the medical personnel were wheeling off body after body from Rusty Six.

“Your highness, something brutally murdered all these men not long ago,” said the doctor, beside a dozen waiting hearses.

“Yes I should have known that somebody would try to sabotage my wedding. Any clues to what did it," he asked.

"Yes it appears to be a very edgy hook that did it, they didn't stand a chance," said the doctor, as he left.

"I want the city on lock down immediately, and a line established with my witch wherever she has run off to,” said Killin Hood.

“Yes sir,” said the highest ranking general, climbing into his waiting limo.

Killin Hood approached the big rig with a frown. He grabbed a hold of the hose to the tanker, and hit the spray. A stream of desert sand came rushing out where the prized liquid was supposed to be.

“REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”