The throne room was trashed and trashy music rumbled on the other side of the walls. The dead bodies still waited to be removed after Roger and anybody loyal to him had hit the floor last night murder by Killin Hood. The DJ kept the crowd cool with funky nu-metal screamo. The very last bottles of jungle juice gingerly popped open with the celebratory promise of more being delivered soon. The thick purple syrup inside was poured into royal limited edition straw cups and slurped up by the nu-nobles.
“Honey, you gotta meet some of my soldiers slash showgirls rollerballing in here,” cackled Killin Hood, sliding to her side on urethane wheels.
Cyborg Queen Elizabethy the 13th had previously gunned down Roger via remote control. She remained muted by the same device that functioned as a leash carried by the man soon to take the title of King. The DJ switched to a classic disco cut,and began to spin in another record with a finesse groove. Everyone had strapped on roller skates as blades were banned at their wedding. They spiraled around the pulsing rink as the bass dropped and the drink started to take effect. The naked girls spray painted in gold surrounded the King and Queen of the disco who kissed.
It was morning and toilet paper hung from the chandeliers and draped off the open balcony. It smelled like a sweaty skunk had rolled around to some funk. A lowly jester swept the floor humming to herself underneath a face mask containing air crystals. It was hard work cleaning up after the royals, but somebody had to step up or the kingdom would fall apart. She grunted, lifting yet another pair of soiled panties into the trash can with the end of the broom. It was just another day at the office and only a fool would ever think of rebelling against authority. The only other person here still alive wobbled on the top of a ladder while he painted over the famous art commissioned of the previous King puffing a hookah and covered in crystals. He painted on a massive K composed of different types of camouflage on each arm and leg of the typography. It was woodland, desert, urban, and snow representing the tundras the kingdom controlled.
“Does this thing work… testing,” screeched an amplified voice traveling from far outside.
“Yes, your majesty, you sound very much like a king,” cried the gathering of Bootlickers, clasping their sensitive fish ears that worked partly off echolocation.
“That’s because I am a King,” boomed Killin Hood.
“Better than King you are the supreme emperor,'"they stammered.
“That’s right, now it's time to take a break and have lunch with my wife”, he said.
“MMMMMM,” cried the three toadies getting to their knees, licking their lips, and eyeing the clubbed baby seal skin boots worn by their new master.
“Fuck off,” Killin Hood scolding pushing them out of the way and clearing over the drumset, grinding on the stage monitor, and jumped off the stage.
He began roller skating down the red carpet that rolled the length of the massive arena. A leprechaun technician rigged the lights on the ceiling, while another serviced the grand piano torn open for servicing. Backstage a half dozen divas were acting mean girls clawing each other like cats.A few million empty seats of the coliseum would soon be roaring with applause for the most baller marriage ever conceived.
The three suns scorched at noon underlying ground sand filled with bones. The sweat ran from the burnt faces of the burnt constructors of a gazebo in a corner. The concentrated heat had already killed 50 workers, and 569 animals (including slaves). The super sunscreen rationed out that cost him a fortune and and must have stolen it for profit so he got rid of it.
The ruler had three days before being officially crowned. The arches covered in pretty flowers had gone sour and one had even caught on fire. A flatbed truck had entered through the main gate carrying the replacement ginormous crystal disco ball that was big enough to wreck the place once it was mounted to an industrial crane to cast the festival in colors.
“Now where's my pretty thing gone, I’ve got so much crystal she will have an overdose,” he laughed to himself walking into a shady tunnel.
The path lined with torches led deeper underground. A malnourished rat tried to run for cover, but was crushed underfoot on the wet floor.
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“HAha.”
The lights dimmed. Killin Hood approached an ancient door made of glowing runes carved in gold and crystals adjourned in spirals. He pushed open the entrance using the hole drilled through the lock, and entered the guts underneath the arena. Here straw covered much of the ground of the sprawling place filled with cages containing tigers, lions,bears, but the biggest was empty. In another section the skeletons of boats sunk when the arena had been flooded were in various stages of repair for the next round.
He kept on past the matted lion that roared, and the howling monkeys swinging from tires nailed to telephone poles in their domed cage. A growling in Killin Hood’s stomach mixed with the thousands of hungry growls emitting further down the block. The next door creaked open into the dark groans, moans, and shrieks.
“Now there you are dear, I thought he somehow regrew your brain and escaped my clutches,” he called.
This underground area resembled a sprawling slaughterhouse mixed with a prison complex. The zombies were rotting chained by the thousands in little pig pens. They were dressed in the same crappy armor worn when they first competed in gladiatorial shows alive. The air smelled ranker than any battlefield and maggots ran wild everywhere the eyes dared look. The vermin ran across the floor with other scavenging animals at the light of his flashlight. Killin Hood had to take a break for a few dry heaves.
Queen Elizabethy the 13th stood in the center of it all, feeding the horde from the palm of her hand. They also licked her attached chainsaw while her dress was a bloody mess, and her hair was worse than the nearby stripper zombie. Several empty five gallon buckets surrounded her while the zombies that could reach them licked them clean. A fresh bucket popped open revealing that it was filled with guts. She lifted out a fresh brain and swatted away the dead chick with no manners. Her fingers started to sink into the gooey gray matter that sploshed onto her fiance's suit. He brushed it onto the floor and pulled away his leg as a mouth chomped at his feet. Meanwhile she held out her hand and began to feed the next in line.
“Grrr,” grumbled Killin Hood following, punching away anything too close for comfort with his studded crystal knuckles.
He pulled the remote control out of his other pocket and had her throw the meat away. She turned and hobbled back to him as the zombies fought among themselves.
“I must keep my subjects happy,” she said.
“It’s ok dear, I've got a very special present for you to follow my lead,” he said, dropping the device, and taking her hand.
“Smack!”
An armored zombie knight painted white had tried to come between them and gotten his face bent in. She helped him by kicking the severed head into a basket with her roller blades.
“Nice shot,” said Killin Hood, taking her arm as they walked out the door.
The elevators were tricky to find and took them almost an hour to locate. It turned out they were hidden in the underground parking garage filled with muscle cars outfitted for death races. The bell rang and he opened the metal gate like a gentleman. They rolled inside and looked at the rocks behind the glass window. Killin Hood pressed the button for the arena's royal penthouse apartment, and balcony. The elevator began to rumble as it quickly climbed out of the dark basement, and then through the roof of the lobby. Soon they could see the grounds being worked on by an army sized crew, and even above the smaller walls of the coliseum to the surrounding capital. A giant K had been constructed and his, and her giant statue had begun at the feet.
“That’s our new logo baby for Killin company,” he bragged.
“Ding!”
The elevator had arrived, and they rolled inside. The penthouse is a massive rectangle with another the same side hung outside. A king size dining table able to seat a hundred filled with fancy food. Outside there was a glass swimming pool where you could see the games while cooling off. A canopy could be rolled over the entire thing to keep away the heat. The water was manipulated by the wind as they stepped on the deck, and looked down.
The screeching of wheels that needed lube interrupted them. A covered box was rolled toward them by three golden girls skating behind it.
“Now here's the main course specially made for your love,” he said.
The cover was lifted revealing a fuzed massive combination of every crystal that sparkled. A card in front of it revealed that it had won a certification for biggest and most valuable ring ever at an over 1 zillion value. The Queen was speechless while she bent to inspect it.
“Oh my bad dear,” said Killing Hood, unmuting her again.
She started licking the ring in ecstasy and stroking it with her free hand.
“Watch out you're going to scratch it,” he scolded, holding back her chainsaw. “Sigh no brains let me put it on you,” he said, pushing her buttons.
Killin Hood struggled trying to lift the massive ring. Eventually he controlled her into opening the clasp and wrapping the hoop around her waist. It perfectly fit her hourglass figure as he locked it shut. It functioned sorta like the biggest belt buckle ever made. A set of controls were built in to work the powers housed within the sparkling ultra rare legendary one of a kind object.
“I think I love you,” she blurted.
"Well I would hope so, it's a good thing that you haven't gotten too big or small on me and it fits like a glove," he cooed, stroking her hair turned white while she stroked her wedding ring.