Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Bride And Grooming
Karnilla took a sip of mead, then casually smashed the goblet in the little satyr's face. "Pray tell me why you be not pleased, my betrothed?" she purred.
"Many reasons have I," replied Baldur. "For one--!" Abruptly, Baldur wrenched the slobbering imp from his left leg and threw him against a nearby cavern wall. "Thou hast 'measured mine inseam' enow, wretch! Think me not ignorant of thine attempts to 'cop a feel.'" The silver-maned god of light smoothed the wrinkles from his garish raiment and strode purposefully toward his soon-to-be-wife. In a deep, clear voice, strangely reminiscent of church bells, he unburdened his heart. "For one, mine legs be so constrained by thine straps and buckles that mine very circulation be impaired, so very much so that I fear I should lose a toe afore our wedding night! Secondly, I recollect with much clarity seeing this self-same skirt on professional figure skater Michelle Kwan. Thirdly..."
"Thou dost enjoy women's figure skating?" inquired Karnilla with a tiny smirk.
"That be beside mine point!" Baldur snapped.
"No, thou has made me curious as to thine other interests!" Karnilla grinned. She leaned forward, like a panther appraising an unsuspecting fawn. "What else might thou do for fun? Shoe shopping? Body waxing? Gossipping about Jared Leto?"
Baldur's shining eyes glared balefully at his betrothed. "Queen of all that is evil," he swore, "thou shalt not get mine goat!"
A rueful titter escaped Karnilla's cruel mouth. "I be not sure I'd want thine goat! I knowest not how thou might have made sport with it!"
"To continue," sighed Baldur, "These gloves be most passing strange. The orange pigment rubs off to reveal a hue as red as roses. And what be the purpose of these so-called 'repulsor rays?'"
"The gloves I found at a garage sale," Karnilla smiled. "Vintage, see? Be they not cool?"
"But mine most pressing complaint," continued Baldur, "is in reference to the chest plate. I see not why mine nipples need screen doors."
Karnilla shook her head. "Silly godling," she clucked. Regally, she arose from her couch and advanced on the white-haired god. She placed her hands on his chest, causing him to recoil in alarm. "Tis no ordinary chest plate, my lord, but a stereo! One dost only work the skull like this...! Her slim, taloned fingers carressed Baldur's chest. As if by magic, a tinny rendition of Wagner's "Fire Music" flitted through the speakers and wafted about the cavern. Baldur winced, his square jaw tightening. And then, fresh tears brimming in his eyes, he softly sighed and submitted himself fully to the Norn Queen's ministrations.
"And besides," Karnilla added, "thou hast not seen it with the hat on yet! Not that the Queen of the Norns wishes to hide her king's gorgeous silver hair, but it dost be traditional, mine love! And hark! Turn it upside-down, and it doubles as a foot-stool!"