Chapter Text
Swords in hands, knights and king in armour.
Foe: I’m going to kill you, and rule this land.
Cut.
Murderface: Hey! No!
Skwisgaar: No, you won’ts!
Toki: Stops, it Nathan!
Nathan: It’s my turn! I want to be king now too, we’ve let Pickles play it first!
Murderface holding out his medieval sword, squinting his eyes: We said, no.
Nathan: Fine! What do you want me to do then?!
Murderface: …You can marry him.
Next thing they knew they were in a medieval church, with a hired priest in front of them.
Pickles: Um, Nate’n?
Nathan: What?
Pickles: Don’t you think this is going a bit overboard? We stood through three whole stories from the Bible.
Nathan: We’re just playing accurately.
Priest: Should anyone present know of any reason that these people should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.
Everyone was present.
Pickles: Noone? …Really?
Skwisgaar shouting frow the rows: We wants to play! Just goes on withs it!
Toki: Ja! This ams the first times I’m in a church for marriages. It’s excitings! Goes on, Pickle!
Priest: Lords, art thou here this day in pledged troth of thy own free will and choice?
Nathan: Kinda.
Pickles: I guess.
Priest: Khm… Swear you now, on this sacred blade, that there is no reason known to you why this partnership should not be made.
Nathan: Sure.
Pickles: Yeah, whatever.
Though a bit disturbed by the answers, the priest went on with the speech.
Pickles whispering: Nate’n! This feels too real.
Nathan: It’s alright, we aren’t using our real names.
Priest: Lord “Ashbott…King?”-
The small crowd snickered in the rows.
The priest was getting annoyed: Do you, King Ashbott…-
After another row of quiet laughings the priest seemed to show off with regaining power in words now: -take unto thyself as most Honorable, King Beam-
Another laughter escaped the people, and the priest just about had it, so he continued mercilessly in high-temper.
Priest: - Do you?!- pledge before God and these witnesses to be his protector, defender and sure resort, to honor and sustain him in sickness and in health, in fair and in foul, with all thy worldly powers, to cherish and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?
There was an awkward pause now. Everyone knew why. As band leader and strongest member, he already did. Putting up with Pickles’s vomit runs without disgust is a skill he had already mastered. The only thing left was the “keeping only onto him” part, which he kind of already said he would, before all flew off with the dethkopter to the temple. This would have been the easiest promise he’d ever make. Nathan looked down at his feet, and around the room.
Nathan: I uhm-... I do?
Pickles, starting to get worried: If I say I do, will you please tell me you did not have rings done?
Nathan, sweating and looking away: Uhm…
The priest, triumphantly: Heavenly Father, bless these rings-!
Pickles: No. No! Screw this, I’m leaving, I’m not playing anymore. You can be king, I died of cholera, I leave the throne to you, whatever.
Pickles storms out through the church’s shorter and smaller exit.
Nathan: Okay. Who’s stupid idea was this?
Murderface, sliding down in his seat as everyone looked at him: Ah, shshit.