A heatwave of dry air hung over the royal wedding. The fair was set in celebration, with tents, games of skill and gambling, flower art all over the park, and the grand race set to start. A red carpet trail of matching roses thrown on the ground led to a gothic arch covered in demons. A massive painting hung behind the stage of Yasham and Prince Edward. She wore a classical dress while he broke many traditions.
The crowd pushed and shoved against the main gate to catch a peek at the bride or groom. The entrance was manned by the fire-breather, sword inhaler, ax-master, strongman champion, and ticket-master who cracked malformed knuckles as he punched a golden snub. The crown had called in extra reinforcements for the event. The knights picked up trash in their armor, or served refreshments to the horses. The prohibition agents blended among the common folk while the riot cops let their presence be felt with stings inflicted by taser sticks.
All the most important royalty had gathered in attendance. Some ate popcorn in the stands, others got their hands dirty while wearing the finest robes placing bets. The last minute entrants lined up paying a race animal's expense on their finest rides.
The racetrack ran along the entire outside of the fair and a long bit into the woods. Prince Edward wore leather chaps over his suit. He rode to the gate on a war horse dull gray, and skin and bones. The beast was said to be the dead brought back to race as a gift.
He laughed at a midget trying to climb aboard until he realized it was an 8 year old nephew. Princess Clepotra kicked up dust making her entrance riding a camel in from the desert. It had robotic front legs, and humps full of rivets. Joining her followed a tiny dragon with runt wings, and muscular ostrich legs rode by some kind of duke. There were more than two scowling at Edward now.
"Losers," yelled Sasha, princess of Upot, with her steed said to breathe water.
The crowd pointed and laughed as the newly allowed class of riders gathered shyly in the rear. One dropped their armor off a mount by a clumsy accident under pressure. Senior citizens with enough crystals to buy in were known as the so-called nu-nobles. They owned a lot of things of value, but the richest here possessed the ultimate social symbol of royal blood in their veins. Thus those lacking the easy path to legend of being born they had gathered to prove what little worth they had.
Nancy cloaked in among the racers. She rode stealthily on a motorized bicycle that used gears, magnets, oil, and chains. The bike had an armor disguise that made it kinda look like a cow with spots. A few days ago she was knocked from a noble at the tavern with a sleeping potion. She readied a dart blower between her black lips, while her fingers played with a dart tipped with frogs' poison. It was time for revenge against her abuser, and it tasted bitter. Anyway, a good day for assassinating a royal in the forest obstacles. She was going to rip out the heart of an empire, and maybe even be able to sneak off to victory.
The top performing rank and file military cavalry marched in uniform. Their polished armor reflected the roaring heat of the Empire's authority, and the three suns. Bishop the knight sat atop his enormous armor spiked war horse studying his competition. He was a fierce fighting veteran of many battles, and winner of many wars. The kingdom was in uncertain times so it was time for the military to flex muscle. He was of an elite few selected knights proving to the citizenry that the empire’s military was still strong in power.
The stands were packed full with a deafening audience chanting for entertainment to start. The guards had frisked everyone, and arrested anyone trying to sneak schlock. They patrolled the stands cleaning up any spilled food dumped by slobs. The winter season was fast approaching, and fur coats were well worn. Nancy shivered at the site of guard dogs being led further down the track. Once the deed was done there was no going back to safety. She had planned for the heat to become deadly on the run. As long as the revenge was successful she had made peace with everything else.
"Are you prepared for long months of frozen ground so cold there's mammoths migrating to food. Stay stocked like a settler without ever leaving home. Buy Winston Furs, Jerky, and survival kits for the apocalypse," blared a sponsor over the arena's loud speaker.
Elizabethy sat with her bootlickers in the royal box overlooking the racetrack. The fishy advisers were fed fish food by elite knights. She blew on her fingernails to finish drying them white like ice, before taking up binoculars. Snaggy wrote in his journal directly by her side as a personal assistant taking note. It was typical fool behavior to sit writing things down nobody will read. He has such a talent for juggling things, and being a jackass yet his ego moves him to try for a higher purpose that was unachievable with a brain so simple. Queen Elizabethy the 13th was a bored widow with nothing going on, but the fantasy world of royal gossip was always popping off.
"Snaggy, why don't you ghostwrite a book for me of bad behaviors of the royals to publicly shame them," She said, smiling while handing him a yellow paper.
"Hmm yes mam you know I'm good at parkour, and can climb many tree branches to peep on dirt," he chuckled, licking his lips.
"Any naked pictures are for my eyes only," she scowled, before pretending to wind up a hit.
Snaggy flinched and dropped the paper that floated away. He panicked frantically jumping, and stepping on a screaming head he caught the runaway object. Him and the guy he had used as a step stool fell into a mess of spilled drink and corn dogs.
"Corny ass hahaha," Laughed Elizabethy.
Meanwhile Humpy Dumpy was on a mission. His eyes focused on trying to locate Edward sitting atop his pony spying from a slit in the nearby sewer. There was not long left to go, and his target seemed to have left the racetrack. Humpy had kept sight along the street from the sewer beneath for hours, and was becoming lightheaded due to the fumes. He panicked splashing through waters to run down the tunnel. There was light streaming in from every storm drain he ran past. Where the farc had his target gone. His head was gonna roll if he failed his royal mission.
"You got it?"
A very familiar voice snapped him back to attention. Humpy crept forward and peeped out the next hole in the ground. He saw what looked like a large cat's paw open a side door to a snack stand, and figured he was hallucinating.
"Of course," said the cat, taking out a dime bag, and rattling the contents with its claws like a cat's cradle.
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"Don't show that with so many eyes," scolded Prince Edward, climbing from his horse.
A third paw opened the sheet metal door, and they entered inside the shanty building. The crowd back at the stands grew in intensity as the beginning of the race drew near. Finally, the target slammed the door open, ran to his horse, and galloped back to the track.
“The race for a large trophy, statue of the winner, and vault full of crystals will soon begin. GET READY! but first archery” announced an amplified voice.
The hay thwacked with an arrow as the archer aimed to hit a bullseye.
“Well played, Prince Albert '' said his sole remaining contender, the prince Ricky of Summertown.
They were neck and neck, dressed in blue and black, and competing in the shooting competition. Prince Ricky stepped into place with his bow and arrow. It was his turn to shoot six arrows at the marked targets downrange.
“Thwack, Thwack, Thwack!” three arrows for the three victims piercing the dummy target, the meat hung out in the heat attracting flies, and a bottle of potion on a wooden stand.
Just three arrows left to go, and Ricky only had to hit on two of them in order to win.
“Thwonk”.
The bow string letting go and snapping back into place was all that could be seen. The arrow missed the target by a wide shot traveling out of range into the sky. Ricky drew his bow a second time.
“Thwack,”.
He drew again, and quickly released.
“Thwack,”.
The crowd erupted in massive cheers as Albert was eliminated from the competition. Prince Ricky was crowned best of all the archers. This was a golden belt worn by the champ all season. He would at once be the one who took charge of the department in charge of maintaining and coordinating all the archers in battle. Soldiers ran to slap him with badges, honor and present him a massive trophy made of crystals.
“It's time to hit the track,” yelled the announcer.
The crowd went wild in anticipation screaming as the horses and other ridden creatures lined up on the line to race.
“For those listening at home bets are closed remember folks remember that's the only source of funding for our school systems,"
"3, 2 ,1 LETS GO!” yelled the announcer in yellow waving his red starting flag.
“BOOM”.
The starting cannon fired. The race set off exploding out the gate.
“I thought I told you no more betting, no more schlock! I want you to run over there and tell that racetrack at once to knock that off,” screamed the Queen.
Snaggy dodged an outstretched hand, as he jumped over the guard rails, and out of the royal box. He tumbled into a hard chair of the common stands. High above she shook her fist at him. He dodged her view into a thick crowd. It was time to reprimand the announcer down the line. Nobody was doing enough to crack down on crime. The consumption of schlock was so ingrained it was going to be hard like a nutcracker squeezing a tooth to rid it completely from the public. They would slowly raise the minds of the kingdom from the gutters, and those people could be later employed to clean their former residences.
The racers were already around the first bend. The three in front of prince Edward kicked up dust directly into his face that he had tried to cover with a cloth, having forgotten his proper face armor at home. The horse that was rumored to blow fire let off a black ring of smoke from its thought in front of them all as it entered the forest. Nancy was near the very rear as she readied the blow dart gun and dug her spurs into the horse forcing it forwards much faster.
Snaggy was dressed in his finest custom suit, it was the best outfit right before his tuxedo that would be worn tomorrow. He ran out of the stands as the first racers zipped past on the track. He was on the path to where he would pass the queen's orders to another. A man was eating a giant bird leg from a metal rod, while another was drinking something from a cask, he tried to hide. It must have been smuggled schlock. The jester snatched it, the man got up to get it back, but a guard intervened. Snaggy took up the container in his mouth, before he took a big sniff, and a small gulp of half schlock half backwash finished it off.
“Buuurp yup that's schlock alright lock him up boys,” said the jester.
The offender was hauled off to the dungeon never to be seen again. Snaggy kept along the path as the Bootlickers had joined him with bellies rumbling from hunger.
Back in the race, Prince Edward was gaining steam almost in the lead. Nancy had the dart blower clenched in her mouth ready to murder her ex now in second place. The robot camel entered the forest obstacles part of the race first. The horses jumped the raging stream, as the camel stopped, unable to clear the rapids. Nancy and her horse closed in directly behind the prince and she blew him a kiss of death from her mouth.
“Thwack,” the dart shot out right into the gray horse ahead, hitting it in the butt with toxic poison.
Edward toppled over his horse, as it fell to the ground threatening to crush him underneath. He rolled before he readied his sword, drawing it and stabbing her horse. Nancy fell to the ground and the poison dart blower fell far off somewhere unknown.
“Ha, ha, ha now is the perfect time for this duel love. You've sabotaged both our chances at winning the race due to you being jealous of my new wife,” said Edward, drawing his sword and attacking.
Nancy blocked with her dagger as they danced.
“hahaha It's over, I've won now, give up you ugly duckling," he smirked.
Bishop the knight was riding in the rear on his slow bulky war horse. He saw the Prince under attack and got down to help. Edward looked back distracted from the sound of the knight drawing his sword. Nancy smacked his sword and fell it to the ground. Edward smiled empty handed. Her eyes burned with a passion he had never seen before as she pressed down the dagger getting closer to his chest.
“Ha, ha, ha,” he repeated.
“Why are you laughing.. Don't bother talking, for I know your tongue is full of lies, and desire to grind your food into nothing,” she said.
Bishop swung his great sword slowly at Nancy. She saw the reflection in Edward's dark aviators and ducked just in time. In return he pulled out an emergency tiny stabber from his underwear. He used this moment of opportunity to stab his crazy ex girlfriend again and again. The tiny little dagger had to fit in his skin tight pants, and thus wasn’t capable of stabbing very deep. Nancy screamed head-butting him, and dove underneath another clumsy slash from Bishop. She picked up her sword and chopped off Edward's hand.
“AAAAAHAAAAAAAAAA!” he cried like a baby running for the stands,
Bishop swung again and thought he nicked her backside. Nancy bled as she ran into the safety of the woods while the alarms blared, and dogs barked.
Meanwhile the cats deep in the empty city saw a moment to strike. They had started heisting the bank vaults, as the troops rallied to the assassination attempt. The cats having already broken into the Queen's main stash had all her crystal bagged to take with them to where they scratched.
The explosives blew open up an entrance. Bags of loot were thrown into the sewer at Humpy's feet where he thought he had been hiding.
“Another successful job,” said the head cat laughing through his balaclava, and throwing away the detonator.
Humpy ran in the opposite direction pressing the pager device over and over again in panic. Outside more alarms started on high alert calling back the soldiers. The cats hissed, sprinting to kill the rat down their escape. They almost caught up to him until they rounded a corner and a metal door was slammed in their whiskers. The cats reached through the big iron bars guards for the unlock on the other side.
Just as they turned the knob, royal guards swarmed in arresting them. The informant had earned himself the promise of a medal sometime in the future, and earned being alive another day.