Royal Wedding (Mythklok, Chapter 55) (Part 1 of 2)

[tikific]

Title: Royal Wedding (Mythklok, Chapter 55) (Part 1 of 2)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The big day arrives. On a pirate ship!
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs, completely over the top swearing.
Notes: Notes after the jump.

For those of you who like to read these things at one go, I just stuck a toothpick in Part 2, and it isn't quite ready yet. (There is A LOT of pie, and it is taxing my oven.) I'll have it up either this evening or tomorrow.



Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU. If you're behind and for some strange reason wanna catch up, the best place is my fic journal, tikific, where you are welcome to come visit the bits I’ve written and maybe poke them with a pointed stick. I've also written a general introduction in case you wanna jump in the middle of things, or have forgotten all this stuff due to Real Life.

Time for a wedding! I realize no one gives a shit about this but me, but this is how Raziel ended up dressing the boys. It’s summer and they’re on a tropical island, so Raz wanted it casual, BUT NOT TOO CASUAL.

Charles wouldn’t give up his red tie upon pain of death, so she put him in a three piece vintage number that’s more cream color than white:




As for Ganesh, he saw this picture of Clive Owen wearing Emporio Armani and kind of swooned:





Royal Wedding (Part 1 of 2)

The magnificent two-masted schooner cut through the Dreamtime sea.

The Starlight Mermaid was at full sail.

Crew members scrambled about the decks, and several more, seemingly unmindful of the dizzying height and bucking ship, crawled through the rigging above like ants in a honeycomb. Some were humans, some minor deities, sailors, brigands, all mixed in the crew.

A being hung from the rigging, up near the top of the mainsail, letting the wind and spray whip around him. He had no fear of heights: he was an angel. He had gone by many names in his long life. Of late, he had taken to using his father's chosen name for him, Ogoun Charles. And he was on his way to a wedding. His own, in fact. He was going to be married to one of the beautiful beings he had ever beheld, and this in two thousand years of gazing at beautiful beings.

He was currently trying to figure out if it would be possible for any being, human or angel or god, to be any happier than he was, just this moment.

He clambered down and leapt to the deck to see his father, standing by the wheel, mad grin on his face. Jacque was holding his grandson, Charles’ son. It was quite possible, Charles thought to himself, that his father might actually be happier than he, out on fair seas, three generations.

And as for the boy, in his short time on earth, he had picked up a rather long list of names. His grandfather preferred Sen Michel, and a set of uncles on his father Ganesh's side insisted rather stubbornly on calling him Brahma. Another set of foster uncles often called him Demon Kid, despite one of them having actually chosen another Name, Elias. But his aunt had dubbed him Boon, the one that seemed to stick.

As to whether or not he was happy, it seemed a moot point, as at some point that afternoon, he had gone far past either happiness or unhappiness. Although the boy was almost preternaturally bright and curious, his cognitive skills seemed to have abandoned him some hours back, and he was left to gape and point at all the wonders he beheld today.

"Having a good time, Boon?" Charles asked him, taking him in his arms. The wide eyes and the inchoate pointing began.

"Lucky stars! Astern!" someone shouted.

"Mermaids down below," said Jacque. "Good fortune on the voyage."

"You are fucking kidding me,” said Charles.

"Followin' in the wake."

Charles held tight to Elias and ran back. Mermaids and mermen were indeed playing in the wake, leaping gracefully, some of the men producing awe-inspiring flips.

"Great way to impress the ladies!" Jacque grinned, standing at the railing beside them.

Knowing not what else to do, Charles waved, and helped Elias to wave as well. The boy giggled as the graceful creatures waved back.

"You're lucky boys!' Jacque said. "I've rarely seen such a fair day for sailing as this! Why, if we didn't need to get you off to your wedding, I'd say we stop for a fair touch o' the pillage and plunder."

"The.... What?" asked Charles.

"PIGALS?" echoed Elias, suddenly regaining his powers of speech at the mention of the nefarious.

"Piracy, m'boy. That's what I'm known for, Black Jack. My stock in trade."

Charles and Elias regarded each other.

"Pleeeeeease, Papa, could we go pillage something?" Charles suddenly whined.

Jacque, who was struggling mightily to keep his expression stern, said, "Well, I don't know, boy. Gotta get you to your wedding on time!"

"But daaaaaaaad! It's not for me! It's for Sen Michel!" He held up his son, who batted his eyes and flapped his little wings appealingly.

"Wellllllll....." said Jacque.



Chuck Schuldiner Memorial Amphitheater, San Serriffe....

The grand piano was yellow with golden piping, and had atop it an elaborate golden candelabrum, almost as big as the piano itself.

A gorgeous blue god, wrapped in elaborate saffron-colored robes, floated down from the rafters. His hair was piled atop his head into a golden tiara. He glided to the piano stool, put out four of his arms, and began to tinkle the ivories, and sing. And as he sang, a heavenly chorus came up in answer to him.


Calls for preservation
Come from every nation
They call on Vishnu!
Vishnu!
Call on Vishnu!
Vishnu!

I’m the very essence,
Of future past and presents
Call me Vishnu!
Vishnu!
Vishnu!
Vishnu!

I’m unimaginable!
Unimaginable!
Unthinkable!
Unthinkable!
Unbelievable!
Unbelievable!

They call on meeeeeeee....
And my chakra....
Now it's time to rock ya...


Then to a tinkle of piano keys, the lovely god glided down a pole and disappeared for a time into some pink fog.

An electronic beat sounded.

The god reappeared, now clad in a saffron colored jumpsuit and large sunglasses. He had five much shorter men, all similarly clad, standing arrayed in back of him. It was Kitsune's boy band, Yaoi Teardrop. They began an elaborate dance routine.


Lovin' me with atomic power
I wanna climb your Tokyo Tower
My kaiju lover
Kaiju lovah!

You got radioactive breath
You’re sexy lovin me to death
My kaiju lover
Kaiju lovah!

Gonna see the monster in you
Woo-woo!
You always rise from the sea
Weeee!
And stomp the Tokyo of my mind
Waiiiii!
You panic my heart's citizenry
Wheeeee!

You the Toho dinosaur
See me cower with your roar
Kaiju lover
Kaiju lovah!

Gonna unzippin’ rubber suit
Want you bring your lovin’ out
My kaiju lover
Kaiju lovah!



"Good show, loves! Lots of energy! Keep it up!" Vishnu cheered, giving each of the Yaoi Teardrop boys a kiss on each cheek.

He made his way to his impossibly cluttered dressing room, where he was soon out of his elaborate costume and wig and into a gorgeous silk robe and hairnet. He leaned over the mirror to smooth cold cream on his makeup.

He became aware of another presence just over his shoulder.

"Ganesha! Poppet!” he said into the mirror. “What did you think of our new number? Little edgy? Those Yaoi Teardrop boys can throw shapes!"

"I liked it, Uncle," said Ganesh, pushing aside an elaborate costume to take a seat on a bench behind Vishnu's dressing table.

"Liked it? Only LIKED it?"

"Do you REALLY think it a good idea to rhyme ‘chakra' with 'rock ya’?"

"My boys were performing their little hearts out! And you merely LIKED it?"

"Uncle, I apologize, I simply have other matters weighing upon my mind at present."

"Other matters? Oooo," said Vishnu, his ire suddenly fading. "It wouldn't be SOMEBODY'S choice of wedding date, would it?"

"It's outrageous. Outrageous! My father not yet cold in his grave and them, parading about together."

"You're raving on about outrage on the day you're marrying an angel. That is ripe, Ganesha dear."

Ganesh glowered at his uncle, who ignored him to light a hand-rolled cigarette. "He's part angel. What of it?" Ganesh asked at last.

Vishnu grinned and proffered the cigarette, arching on elegantly plucked eyebrow. "We didn't think you had it in you, Brahma and I," he said as Ganesh took the smoke. "So many years, pattering after Shiva, scribbling in that little notebook."

"I was my father's right hand. There is no dishonor in that."

"’Yes, Father! Whatever you say, Father!’"

"Speaking of disrespectful...." grumbled Ganesh, his eyes narrowing.

"We had no idea the scandal you were capable of."

"Scandal?"

"Playing dumb doesn't suit you, love. You know you and your little feathery piece of ass have caused some pants shitting among the pantheon. Why didn't you just build your Long Dong Silver a nice little cottage somewhere?"

"Cottage? Uncle, he's one of the richest and most powerful beings on earth!"

"Ooo, it's for the money then?"

Ganesh sighed. "It's what he wanted. It's what we wanted. For our son."

"We agreed to Name him. We've bestowed Names on little bastards before."

"My son shall not be a bastard."

"He also shall not be Lord of Destruction."

"For which he is probably better off."

"Are you sure," Vishnu asked shrewdly, "that your rancor against your sweet mother and her, er, escort, is all about the memory of your late father?"

Ganesh frowned and blew smoke.



“So the other douche bags didn’t wanna ride with us?” Nathan grumbled.

“Naw,” said Murderface. “They had to pick up datesch. But that’s OK, bro, you can juscht GO SCHTAG with Dick and me! That’sch the way to meet the lovely goddesschesch!”

Nathan regarded Murderface and Knubbler up in the front seat of Murderface’s limousine. So, he was now going, alone, to a big gay wedding, along with two guys who gave each other blow jobs. When exactly had his awesome metal life of metal gotten a big fucking fruity center?

“So,” Nathan ventured, “you guys are both expecting to pick up WOMEN?”

“Not just women, Nate baby! Goddesses, baby, yeah!” Dick Knubbler enthused. “I just hope I won’t run into my ex-wife, yeah. She’s bad news, baby. Bad news!”

Nathan scowled. He had had this same conversation with Charles at least a dozen times, generally after they had consumed a goodly portion of a decanter of Scotch. One of them would ask, “Do you know what’s going on with Murderface and Dick Knubbler.” And the other would reply, “Do you wanna know?” And that was the end of that.

But for some reason today, whether it was general irritation with the other guys ditching them or specific irritation of having to wear a fucking necktie, Nathan Explosion just couldn’t seem to fucking shut up.

“But, dudes, isn’t getting blow jobs from another guy kinda GAY?”

“No,that’sch a mischperschepschtion!” Murderface scoffed.

“But giving blow jobs is pretty damned gay, Willie baby, yeah!”

“Schut up, unlessch you’re offering,” Murderface told him.

Suddenly, Dick Knubbler grinned.

“Guys,” barked Nathan. And then with growing horror he shouted, “GUYS! Fucking A! Not while the CAR IS MOVING!”



“I’m not sure I like dis sneakin’ around,” Pickles gumbled.

“Ams not sneaksing,” Skwisgaar told him as they Dream Walked into the courtyard of the lovely residence.

“Why coudn’ we jest go wit’ de others?” Pickles asked.

“You ams wants to takes your boyfriends, Tokis?”

“Ain’t my boyfriend. An' I agree wit' him. You sure dis is a great idea? Gannish dood's dad is barely in da ground."

"If a lady ams wants some Skwisgaar, who ams I to deny dem?"

"Yer talkin' about yerself in da third person now dood?" Pickles asked.

“Pffft.”

“Look, dood, I got yoo here. Maybe I’ll jest go on ahead-“

“No! Pickle, my friend. Maybe you ams stays?”

Pickles hesitated.

“Sometimes,” Skwisgaar confided, “when she ams Kali, and ams has all dems arms?” He wiggled his own arms in imitation. “Ams a little spooky.”

“Dood. Do yoo jest have a deat’ wish or somthin’?”

“She ams da hots customers. But, ams you wants to tell da ladies whats waving da six sharp swords dats you ams breaksing up wit’ her?”

“Huh,” said Pickles.

“Skwisgaar! “ said Parvati, who had just appeared in the courtyard. “My dear! You’re here a trifle early! Do you mind terribly if I spend a bit more time getting ready?”

“Um. I ams never spends too much times with you,” Skwisgaar quickly assured, giving her a peck on the cheek as he nervously fingered his Gibson.

Pickles raised an eyebrow.




"So you see," explained Jacque, "This is how application of piratical solutions aids the motherfucking economic system."

Charles hurried after his father, clutching his son to him, and trying to dodge thrown beer bottles, falling bodies, and occasional gunshots and the like as they darted through narrow alleyways of the recently pirated island village. “So, this governor we just robbed is an asshole?” he asked, grabbing a tossed brick in midair and hurling it back, where it significantly impacted the head of the original hurler.

“Not robbed: pillaged! Get the fucking terminology right, boy!”

"Yes, Papa."

"So, the money we take from that cocksucker goes right back into the local motherfucking economy, from service professionals," he said, blowing a kiss to a barmaids, who gave him the finger, "to local government services," he continued, pointing out some of the local constabulary, who, evidently concluding they could not forstall the melee, had agreeably stopped for a drink. "Wait, who are there cocksucking motherfuckers?" he asked, pointing to two unlikely looking characters propping up a bar.

"Jacque!" said Orula, twirling his cape, and nearly sending himself toppling over.

"Oi! Black Jack!" said Chango, who hurried to steady his partner.

"And Charles!" said Orula, straightening up his eyeglasses. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Hey guys," said Charles. Elias flew out of his arms to more closely inspect the newcomers.

"Aiiiiii! Killer bee!" screamed Orula, now hitting the deck.

"I don't think he's a bee, love," Chango told him, giving Elias a poke in the tummy. “Or indeed any of the Hymenopterae,” he concluded

"He's not?" asked Orula, peeking up between the hands he had clasped protectively over his own head.

"This is my, uh, son, Elias," Charles told them.

"Oi. Don't look like you," said Chango, plucking Elias out of the air and into his arms. "Looks like that Ganesh fella."

“This is Sen Michel, the next Ogoun!” Jacque said proudly.

“I thought you said it was Elias?” Orula asked.

“Well, we actually mostly call him Boon,” Charles supplied.

“You don’t know its actual name?” said Orula.

“Oh, it’s just, my sister likes to make up nicknames, and it kind of stuck….”

“It’s so darling! Can’t we get one for ourselves?” Chango, cradling Elias, asked Orula.

“What? Aren’t you happy with our zombies?”

“Well, they do tend to lose the bits! And this one can fly!”

“Does it sting?” Orula asked Charles. “Is it housebroken?”

“Uh. No sting. He does magic.”

“Oooo!” said Chango as Elias giggled.

“And as to the housebroken part, Raziel found some extra–leakproof diapers,” Charles explained, snapping the elastic on Elias’ plastic pants.

“So what are you two cocksuckers doing in these parts, anyway?” asked Jacque.

“Oh, it is an epic tale! We were on the way to some fellow’s wedding, and were waylaid here! By PIRATES!” Orula told them.

“Imagine that,” grinned Jacque.

“Uh, whose wedding were you going to?” asked Charles.

"Oh, some fellow. Do you remember, Chango?"

"Oi!" said Chango, the realization suddenly seeping into his well-lubricated brain. "Was it your wedding, mate?"

"That is a distinct possibility," Charles laughed.

"Oh, then could you chaps favor us with a ride?" asked Orula. "We do need to escape the clutches of those dreadful pirates!"



"What is going on in here?" the great red god huffed.

"I was just favoring our honored nephew some advice on his wedding day," Vishnu told him, stretching out a long leg and taking an extravagant puff on his spliff. He offered the smoking cigarette to Great Brahma.

"Vishnu! On the boy's wedding day, and you're feeding him is bull dung? Such nonsense." Brahma tossed away the spliff and extracted a golden case from his vest pocket. "Let him have the good shit," he said, taking out one elegant cigarette.

"Oh! From the Heavens!" approved Vishnu.

"Wait," said Ganesh. "You grow.... Up in the Heavens?"

"Well, of course. You don't think I spend all my time cultivating azaleas, do you?" Brahma asked, sampling a puff. He handed the smoke off to Vishnu, who enjoyed a very healthy drag.

"So, hand it off, you great ponce!" Ganesh told him.

"Oh, is that what you think of me?" Vishnu grinned, giving the Heavenly spliff to Ganesh. "So tell me, Ganesha, be frank, which of us do you hate the most?" he asked, curling one leg up under his chin.

"It is difficult to say," Ganesh admitted. He was now sprawled out on the bench, staring at the ceiling. "The supercilious queen, or the preening windbag."

"Supercilious! The boy has a vocabulary!" grinned Vishnu.

"Why Shiva sent his worthless pansy ass to Oxford," Brahma harrumphed.

"Pansy ass! I kill fucking Seraphim!" Gamesh grumbled, letting out a luxurious puff.

"Emphasis on the fucking part of late," said Vishnu.

"He's only part Seraph, you know?" Ganesh protested.

"Oo, which parts precisely, love?" asked Vishnu.

"Add perverted to supercilious."

"Will you two kindly stop letting your female aspects run away with you?" Brahma boomed. "And pass me back my damned Heavenly shit."



The luxury yacht cut through the sea. On board, a woman wearing a stylish bikini lay out on a deck chair, underneath a very large awning. She was thumbing through an issue of Vogue Italia, and watching a small child play at her feet.

Her cell phone rang, so she rummaged around for a while in her purse and brought it out.

"Sariel? All ready for your big day? What? You can see me? Are you on deck. Oh!" Raziel got up and went over to the railing. "Oh, there you are. HELLO!' she said, giving a big wave. She squinted, needlessly shading her eyes under her big floppy hat, and saw the wave returned on the sailing vessel that was off their port bow.

Raziel returned to her deck chair. "Will you hang on a minute Sariel? I need to attend to something. No, Abby! You can't have your Pretty Princess troops fight like that!” she scolded her toddler. “They'll be outflanked on the left! See! Put some artillery over here! I'm sorry, my baby needs to learn elementary strategy and tactics. Now, what was that? A race? Wait a minute, let me get Wotan. HEY WOTAN!"

"What is the caterwauling about, M'Lady," laughed the god, who, holding his very excited son Liam, sauntered up along with the captain, the bearded sea god, Poseidon. "Did you see the Starlight Mermaid off the port bow? That’s Black Jack’s ship!"

"Yeah, I'm talking to Sariel. His captain says our captain is a giant motherfucker."

"Their captain is a giant cocksucker!" Poseidon supplied.

"Poseidon says YOUR captain is a giant cocksucker," Raziel cheerily told the phone. "Jacque says he wants to talk to the motherfucking cocksucker," she said, holding the phone out to Poseidon.

"You're a cocksucking motherfucker!" Poseidon barked into the phone. "What? A race? You can't race me in that pitiful cocksucking bucket you call a ship!



The two ships hurtled down the narrow harbor of San Serriffe towards the port. A crowd gathered to watch the race and cheer them on.

As the vessels neared the beach, however, neither ship showed absolutely any sign of slowing down. The spectators on the beach dead ahead of them, suddenly realizing this fact, all began to scatter just before the two vessels - a sailing ship and a luxury yacht - careened into the beach with thunderous crashes of splitting timber.

A few beings jumped off the ships and onto the beach.

"Looks like a tie to me, gentlemen," said Wotan, regarding the two ships.

"You cocksucking motherfucker! Look what you made me do!" howled Poseidon.

"Your fault, motherfucking cocksucker," shouted Jacque.

At which point the two men came together for a hearty embrace.

"That was amazing!" said Raziel.

"Is this something you people find amusing?" Parvati, who had been among the crowd on the beach forced to madly scramble for cover, and who was still shaking sand out of her hair, scolded the two captains.

"My son's wedding day, wench," grinned Jacque, giving a very surprised Parvati a hearty slap on her ass. "We're just adding to the festivities."

"Is that what you call this?" she sputtered, casting an arm at the wreckage.

Charles, who was holding Elias and trying very hard not to grin, said, "Uh, Parvati, you remember Jacque? My, uh, dad?"

"Parvati?" said Jacque. "This pretty little lady is Ganesh's mama? Well, we're nearly relatives!" he declared. He grabbed her and, to Parvati's obvious dismay, gave her an affectionate European style kiss on the cheeks. "You save me a dance, sexy Mama!" he declared, striding up the hill with an arm hooked around Poseidon’s neck.

“You old cocksucking smoothie!” Poseidon told him.

Parvati scowled up at Jacque, and then turned her attentions to Skwisgaar, who pretended to be strumming his guitar.

"CHARLES,"

"Hey, Nathan,” said Charles.

"Do you know what's going on with MURDERFACE AND KNUBBLER?"

"Well, I-"

"I DO!" said Nathan.

Charles regarded the stricken looking lead singer with dismay. "Oh. Uh. I'm sorry-"

"In the car. ON THE WAY OVER,” Nathan added.

Charles gawped. "Oh. Really?"

"I NEED MANY BEERS."

"Yeah, I think, uh, I might need a beer too."

"I've got you boys’ rings right here," Wotan told Charles, holding up a small, intricately carved box as the twins buzzed excitedly around him.

"We'll take care of these," said Raziel, grabbing Elias from Charles and snatching the box as well.

"That's my goddam kid!" Charles told her.

Raziel stuck out her tongue, as did Liam, for good measure. "You gotta get ready! Nathan!" she said.

"Uh. Yeah. Lady Raz?” asked Nathan.

"Make sure he's dressed and at the altar on time. OK?"

"You need him SOBER?"

"Naw, just able to stand up more or less unassisted," Raziel assured him. "We gotta go get ready for our formal entrance now," she told them, walking off with Wotan and all of the kids.

"I wanna find Ganesh," Charles told her.

"Stay away from Ganesh before the ceremony! It's bad luck!" she called back.

"Ams you guys met my dates?" asked Toki, who just strolled up with a very cute young girl.

"Aiiiiii!" screamed Skwisgaar, "It ams da Norns!" He grabbed his Gibson and took off running, leaving a very surprised as well as terribly annoyed Parvati behind.

"I'm not a Norn!" Toki's date fumed, quite abruptly transforming from a cute young girl to a haggard old lady. "I'm a Fate! Can't people fucking tell the difference!"

Toki goggled.

"Brutal," said Nathan. "CHARLES,” he said, hooking a meaty arm around his small manager’s neck, “we need to get FUCKING SLOPPY."

"Yeah, that seems like the best option," Charles agreed.




The pantheons were arriving, each formally announced as they alit in front of San Serriffe’s luxurious hotel, the InterDimensional. Various gods and demigods sitting at the dizzying array of outdoor bars or swimming in equally vast selection of pools would cease splashing and knocking back umbrella drinks for a few moments to behold the spectacle as a new selection of gods strode down the red carpet to check in.

Pickles looked up from where he was collecting little paper parasols on the bar.

It was like a green banner floating in the sky.

"The North American Kachina pantheon," came the announcer’s voice.

Pickles ran.

"Hey, Pickles dude, how's it hangin'?"

"Hon! Kwahu!" Pickles laughed, shaking the hands of a bear-headed and eagle-headed gods who had just dismounted the flying serpent. "I didn't know yoo doods were coming!"

"All the goddesses in swimsuits, man?" asked Hon, grinning around at the poolside scenery. "We weren't gonna miss this shit."

"How's our bro, Nathan?" Kwahu hissed.

"Aw, he's around, I dunno where."

"You gonna give Grandma a hug?" Pickles grinned from ear to ear as he bent over to embrace the tiny four-armed woman.

"Grandma!" he said.

"And here's someone you know," Spider Grandma told him. Pickles regarded the gangly young man stabbing at a Gameboy.

"Aaron! Dood! I nearly didn't recognize yoo!"

Aaron grunted something unintelligible and then wandered off sullenly with Hon and Kwahu, leaving Pickles standing open mouthed.

"Teenagers," said Grandma, patting Pickles' arm.

"He's gettin' so big. I didn't realize."

"You could visit. Once in a while," she said softly.

"Yeah. I'll do dat. We bin busy," he finished lamely.



There was a thundering, like a thousand hoof beats.

Because it was a thousand hoof beats.

An army on horseback had arrived, riding from the sky, and at the head, a mighty king riding an eight legged mount.

Wotan, dressed in his full military regalia topped by a golden crown, dismounted smartly and tossed the reigns to an attendant. He strode back to a pure white coach, led by four pure white horses. Another uniformed attendant opened the door, and a tiny hand fluttered out. Wotan grasped the hand, and Raziel emerged from the coach, wearing a formal gown and a golden tiara. Another uniformed attendant then assisted tiny Liam and even tinier Abby out of the coach - each of them wearing tiny crowns as well - and finally young Elias. Making certain to secure hands, the couple walked down the red carpet through the entryway area.

"King Wotan and Queen Raziel of Asgard, accompanied by Lady Signhild Leia Tzaphkiel Lakshmi Abigail, Lord Ragnar Luke Phanuel Krisna Liam, and Shri Brahma Vishnu Maheshwara Elias Ogoun Sen Michel," the announcer solemnly intoned.

Charles, sitting at one of many, many outdoor bars, grinned as his son was formally announced, and launched the paper cover off his straw with a puff of air in celebration. He was supposed to have started getting dressed at some point, but he and Nathan had somehow come to a mutual decision to see how much of the bar stock they could empty out first. "Edith Head," he said.

"What? Who's giving head?" Nathan inquired.

"Raziel's gown,” he slurred, pointing his drink in that general direction. “It was designed by Edith Head."

"Oh. Uh-huh. Who the fuck is that?"

"A famous designer. Who is unfortunately dead."

"What?"

"I got the story from Ganesh. Raziel had her dad get all the couturiers in Hell to design outfits for her to wear today," Charles laughed. “She wanted-“

"That angel bitch got an Edith Head gown?"

Charles and Nathan turned, somewhat unsteadily. "Uh. Hi Parvati," said Charles, cringing slightly.

"Hey, watch it," Nathan scolded Parvati. "Angels present!" he said, waving his beer at Charles.

"It's OK, Nathan," Charles told him.

Parvati crossed her arms and glared at Nathan. "You might show a bit more respect," she warned.

"You too," rumbled Nathan. They attempted to stare each other down for a time.

"Have either of you seen my escort?" Parvati sighed at length.

"Not since the girlie scream," Nathan suddenly grinned.

"You might look for groups of, uh, ladies," Charles suggested. Parvati, heaving a heavy sigh, stalked off.

“That should make Raziel happy,” Charles told Nathan. “She did this solely to piss of Ganesh’s mom.”

"I thought Parvati chick was BIG BUDDIES with Lady Raz?" Nathan asked.

"Yeah, things haven't been so good lately. Since Parvati’s been saying shit about, you know, angels. They're, waddya call it, frenemies."

"Well, so much for one of MY BEST FANTASIES," Nathan grumbled.

"I dunno. Couldn' you have 'em ripping each others' couture off?" Charles suggested, miming the ripping motions.

"Hey, shit yeah! Dude, YOU'RE GOOD."

“Many years of practice. Speaking of fashion shit, I guess I gotta get my fucking suit on,” Charles said, rising. Nathan caught him just in time before he toppled over.

“You sure you’re OK, dude? Raz wanted me to go with you!”

“I can fucking dress myself,” scoffed Charles, sweeping his arm in a dismissive gesture that once more nearly sent him to the floor if Nathan hadn't grabbed him again.

"Thanks," muttered Charles, straightening his tie. He smiled at Nathan, and flicked a bit of the singer's long hair out of his eyes. And then he staggered off in the general direction of the hotel.



“The cast and crew of television’s most beloved drama, Corazon de Azul!” intoned the announcer. A large group including many humans arrived on the red carpet.

“Oh, I ams gets some autographicals!” Toki squealed. He set down his knitting and, grabbing a pen and autograph book, hopped off the bar stool.

“Pfft,” grumbled Skwisgaar, nervously fingering his Gibson.

The fiery redheaded producer, Luz Magnifico Balustrado was at the head of the group, along wither husband, Mickey Mikado, so Toki ran up to her as flash bulbs snapped. But then, somehow, with a cry of “MIIIIIICKEY!” Luz and Toki and half the cast suddenly toppled over into a large swimming pool next to the red carpet. Mickey Mikado stood at the side of the pool, wagging a finger at his ditzy wife. Meanwhile, Hypnos, the purple-winged Elder Goddess who wrote the show, and who had wisely hung in the back of the group, was greeted by Raziel’s father, Phanuel with a courteous kiss on the hand.

“Look, Skwisgaar, I ams gets da autographical from Luz!” bragged Toki, dropping a sopping wet autograph book in front of Skwisgaar.

“Toki, you ams gets my Gibsons wets!” Skwisgaar squawked.



"Behold my mystical elephant power!" shouted Ganesh, who suddenly emitted a terrific snort.

"Darling, you're simply going to have to put away some of these arms if we're going to fit you into your jacket," sighed Vishnu, who was unsuccessfully trying to wrestle a naked elephant god into a white linen Armani suit.

"Boy can't handle the good shit," huffed Brahma, contentedly smoking his joint.

"Are we ready in here?" asked Raziel, who had just popped her head into Vishnu’s dressing room.

"Raziel. My love. We have sixteen arms but only two sleeves," Voshnu sighed, holding up the dress shirt.

"I'm Lord of Distraction!" sang Ganesh, reducing a couple of Vishnu's wigs to cinders. Vishnu glowered.

"Let me try," said Raziel, coming into the room. She put her hands on Ganesh's shoulders. "Ganesha?"

"Razzy-bazzy-snazzyel?" he asked.

"Close enough. How many arms has Clive Owen in a suit?"

Ganesh held up up two fingers of many many arms.

"Very good! And how many arms has George Clooney in a suit? Yes, correct! And, now this is VERY IMPORTANT, how many arms has Joseph Gordon Levitt in a suit? Correct! Now!" She held up Ganesh's suit jacket. "How many Ganesha arms go into the Armani?" Ganesh seemed to concentrate very, very hard, and then quite suddenly put away all his extra arms. "Very good, dear," said Raziel, giving him a quick kiss on the forehead. "Gentlemen," she told Brahma and Vishnu. "Altar in 20. I'll get the angel and the rings."



"You two cocksuckers know Ganesh's Uncle Wotan?" asked Jacque. The twins, who had been snuggled in Wotan's arms, buzzed out to inspect Orula and Chango.

"Aiiiiii! Bats!" squealed Orula, covering his hair.

"Oi, Mahster, they're not bats! They're the little flying babies like Charles got!"

"They're my kids. They're angels!" Wotan cheerily explained as Chango stuck out his arms for them to perch on like weird parrots.

"That is not possible," reasoned Orula. "If you claim to be an angel, sirrah, where are your feathery wings?"

Wotan roared with laughter.

"Wotan isn't an angel, you dumb cocksuckers," Jacque told them. "Lady Raziel is."

"Oh. So they're a bit angel and a bit not?" Orula inquired, poking at Liam, who cheerily stuck out his tongue. "That's not terribly angelic!" he scolded the boy.

"They're part angel. Like my son, you numbskulls," Jacque grinned.

"Charles is part angel?" gasped Orula. "Which parts?"

"My Tzaphy was an angel! She was a Seraph, you dumb motherfucker!"

"A literal angel? I had always assumed you were speaking metaphorically!" Orula protested.

"Oi, Mahster, can't we keep one?" pleaded Chango. “They make such nice accoutrements!” he noted, posing dramatically.

"I gotta bring 'em back with me, else the wife will pitch a fit,” Wotan laughed. “But you can come visit us, up at Valhalla. Have you boys ever been on a hunt?"

"Surely!" said Chango. "I looked all over Knightsbridge for these boots!"



“WHERE IS SARIEL?”

Nathan and Pickles, now propping up the bar, looked blearily at each other.

“Uhhhhhhhhhh,” explained Nathan. “I thought he liked going by Charles now?”

Raziel sighed. “How long ago did you let him wander off?”

“He said he was gonna get dressed. I mean, he knows how to get into a suit, right?” asked Nathan.

“Today? I wouldn’t count on it,” said Raziel.

“Raz! Dood!” said Pickles. “Don’t panic. I t'ink I know where he went.”

Raziel consulted her jewel-encrusted Chopard. “The altar, fifteen minutes?”

“Sure, dood,” Pickles assured her.

The drummer somewhat unsteadily slipped off the barstool and headed around the back of the InterDimensional, to the isolated beach in back of the hotel grounds and soon found him hunched over, emptying the contents of his stomach into a tidal stream. Pickles sat down, cross-legged, nearby and waited patiently until Charles had finished heaving and finally sat back on his heels, trying to catch his breath. Pickles then grabbed a handkerchief from Charles' jacket pocket and handed it back to him to wipe his mouth. And then Pickles extracted something from his own vest pocket.

"Marlboro?" pleaded Charles, his eyes huge.

Pickles grinned and nodded. Charles grabbed desperately for the nicotine stick, falling over Pickles as he did. He hooked one elbow over Pickles' knee to steady himself as the drummer lit the cigarette for him. He took a very, very, very long drag and just lay there for a moment, halfway in Pickles's lap. "I love you!" he choked.

"Yeh, I know," said Pickles, grinning down at him.

“I didn’t get anything on the jacket did I?” Charles asked, sitting up and indicating a three piece cream colored suit he had somehow made his way into. “Raziel will fucking murder me.”

Pickles shook his head. “Dood, why do you do dis t’ yerself?”

“Today. It’s not just for me.”

“It’s nawt?”

“Well, I mean, partly,” said Charles, taking a very long luxurious puff. “It’s for Boon.”

Pickles frowned and started to straighten Charles’ tie.

“I want him to know who he is, where he belongs,” Charles explained. “You know, I didn’t have that.”

“Dis is all jest fer da kid? I t’ought you said dat kid wuz mostly Gannish’s big idea anyway.”

“Well. Sort of. It started out that way, maybe. But it doesn’t fucking matter. Boon is here now. And, I can’t really explain it, but it changed everything.”

Pickles finished fussing with the tie. “Yoo gonna be OK wit’ dis guy? Gannish? Yoo realize, I’m nawt always gonna be around.”

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. I just don’t wanna think of that. Not today.”

Pickles stared at Charles for a time. “I bin wonderin’, chief. Jest between us? Yoo don’t t’ink it woulda bin different, I mean, you an’ me, if you’d’a been human?”

“Pickles. I’m not human. You do understand that?”

“I understand! I jest meant….”

“I didn’t wanna be an angel. For years and years. So I acted like a human. But, I’m not. I’m just not. This is like another fucking suit I wear.”

“So…. Dat wuz all a lie?”

“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying."

"Wut are yoo sayin'? Charles. I jest wanna know, fer me, if you'd met me at da bar dat day, back before yoo had da kid an' da hot boyfriend, if yoo were jest a human guy, if yoo thought dere coulda bin somethin' between us?"

"I thought there was something between us?"

"I don't see you pukin’ in a stream on account o’ me!"

"Thank the gods for that. Look, Pickles, what I’m trying to say, and not doing it very well, is I didn’t accept who I am, not for a long time. I don’t wanna do that any more. I’m not a mortal being! I’m just … not. And that’s for the good. You should see it that way. I want you to see it that way. You’re got a lot of people watching over you now. We're all here for you now. Like in Australia."

"But I jest ain't part o' da 'we,' am I?"

Charles looked pained, but said nothing.

Pickles frowned and stood up. "I gotta git yoo back." He held out a hand. Charles grabbed it, and was suddenly standing directly in front of him, holding Pickles' shoulders.

“I’ll always be there for you. I’m someone who can promise that. Always.”

Pickles quickly kissed him. "C'mon we gotta git yoo married."



Brahma was standing just off-stage, and appeared to be steadying a somewhat wavering, happily grinning Ganesh with one of his many arms.

"Where's Raziel?" Charles asked, as he had assumed she would be hovering.

"She'll be around,” said Brahma. “Come on. It is time for your execution."

He led them out to an altar set up in front of a rowdy and obviously well-lubricated audience of gods and men. Charles strained to look over the faces, but he saw neither Raziel nor his son among the crowd, although Wotan was sitting comfortably in the front row, his crown knocked to a rakish angle, along with the twins, who had broken out their little wings to fly up and get a better look. Jacque sat nearby with a bottle of rum, which he kept tipping into Wotan's glass. The gorgeous Parvati was also in the front row, on the other side, but sitting next to equally lovely Vishnu, not Skwisgaar. Dethklok, minus any escorts (unless you counted Murderface and Knubbler, which Charles was reluctant to do) all sat together in the second row, just behind Wotan and Jacque.

Great Brahma harrumphed loudly, but to absolutely no effect on the boisterous crowd.

"Hey, god douche bags, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Nathan Explosion boomed.

The room quieted a few decibels.

"Thank you," said Great Brahma. "We need to interrupt your partying briefly so these two can be married.”

That was all it took: the crowd screamed and shouted ad whistled and clapped.

"QUIET DOWN!" Nathan boomed again.

"Hell yes," Wotan echoed, "I wanna get back to my drinking!"

“I’m at a wedding!” Murderface told whomever was on the other end of his cell phone call.

"Can we have the rings?" Brahma huffed. "I suppose we'll need them before this thing is over!"

Lady Raziel appeared, just then, walking down the aisle, clad in an amazing black gown designed by Adrian (who had unfortunately passed out of this life in 1959), and specially delivered from Hell that very morning.

But not a single eye was upon her.

Next to the little angel, gripping very, very tightly to two of her fingers, marched young Shri Brahma Vishnu Maheshwara Elias Ogoun Sen Michel, in his very first official public appearance. He wore a tiny replica of his father's white linen Armani suit, and clutched a small, intricately carved box very tightly to his chest. He had a look of furious concentration on his little face.

Elias got to the bottom of the altar, and, as the entire assembly collectively held their breath and the two fathers clutched hands and chewed fingernails, the toddler managed to successfully step up the very first step. Then, still gripping very tightly to both the box and to his Auntie's fingers, he repeated this marvelous feat on the second step.

"This is why I never work with kids," Vishnu counseled, to scattered shushing.

And then, finally, young Elias managed the very top step. There was a collective exhale of breath, the fathers no longer looked as if they would faint, and the tot was immediately swept up in the many arms of his Uncle Brahma. There was much clapping, cheering and hooting.

"Well, young Brahma, and what do you have for us today? Did you bring the rings?" Uncle Brahma inquired, plucking away the offered wooden box.

Elias, who had obviously used up all his energy with the remarkable stair climbing feat, simply nodded and sucked on a handy thumb.

"Let us see," said Brahma, opening the ornate little box. "I have two rings. There are two of you. This should work. Sariel!"

"I prefer Charles."

"Changing names in the middle of my ceremony? Such nonsense! Will you take my worthless nephew off my hands?"

"Uh, sure?" Charles took the proffered golden ring from Brahma, and with shaking hands, attempted to wrestle it onto at least one of Ganesh's fingers. When this had been accomplished, he looked up at the beaming god.

This was when he noticed that Ganesh's pupils were wide as pie plates.

"Uh, Ganesh. Jaanu. Are you high?" Charles whispered to him.

"The infinite mandala shines with the power of a thousand suns!" Ganesh cheerfully volunteered. He leaned over closer to Charles and took a protracted sniff. "Marlboro?" he inquired.

"Uh. Maybe a puff. Or two." Ganesh's stoned grin only widened, and Charles found himself smiling stupidly too.

"Ganesha!" called Brahma.

"Yes, Unky Brama-dama?" Ganesh answered mildly.

"So. Do you take the angel bastard, whatever he's calling himself?"

"The possibilities of space folding upon itself to create a Möbius universe!" Ganesh answered gaily. Charles frowned, but he soon found himself with a silver ring on his hand, which he guessed signaled that this was the right answer.

"Such nonsense!" harrumphed Brahma. "These two obviously deserve each other, so, as a representative of the Great Heavens, the United Celestial Pantheons, and the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, I pronounce them married."

"So? Are you gonna kiss so we can get back to our drinking?" Jacque called from the front row to many shouts of encouragement.

Charles leaned over for a well-rehearsed peck. Ganesh instead pulled him into a clench that included some tongue and not a small amount of groping, much to the evident approval of those in attendance.

"Don't forget the kid," Charles whispered to Ganesh. Boon, who liked kissing, decided he needed to first kiss his Uncle Brahma goodbye, and then kiss his Daddies, and then squirmed to also smooch his own future fiancee, Abby, who was sitting in the front row, and her Mama, just for good measure.

“You better grab your baby love god and get the fuck outta here,” Raziel whispered to Charles. But then she found herself swept into a dramatic kiss by his new husband.

“C’mon lover boy,” said Charles, grabbing Ganesh by the back of the collar and dragging his ass up the aisle.

“Holy hell,” said Raziel, sinking back down in to her seat and fanning herself. She saw Wotan scowling at her and said, “What?”

“Wait just a cocksucking minute! Before you go, I have a motherfucking announcement!” said Jacque, who had just sauntered up to the altar, much to Brahma’s apparent annoyance. “I have just made a purchase! “ he said, waving his glass of rum and a bag of gold coins. “I bought the entire cocksucking island of San Serriffe, lock, stock and fucking barrel. And I’m am giving title now, to my sons and grandson, as their cocksucking wedding present!”

The cheers were deafening.

“We’ve got an island?” Charles asked Ganesh.

“Counterfactual!” cheered the elephant god.