Order and Chaos

A SMALL, ADORABLE DOG.

MILTON

"Hi!" said Milton, the dog. "I'm Milton, the dog!" He wagged his tail excitedly.

"...Where's De?" I asked.

"In her office, hard at work!" said Milton, the dog. He nodded over to his left to a very plain door marked simply, "Office."

"Well —"

"She's much too busy for throne-sitting, I'm afraid! Yes sir, if you're here to make an appointment, it might be a while!" He hopped off the throne, disappeared underneath it, then pushed out a large book before him. "Oh, I'm her secretary angel! You know, dog is just God spelled backwards!" He grabbed a corner with his mouth and opened it up.

"I'll make an appointment, fine," said I.

"Excellent! Now where did I bury that pen..." Milton began sniffing around on the ground.

"Do you have somewhere I can sit, somewhere safe?"

"Sure! Sure sure sure sure sure sure," said the dog Milton. "Just take the throne, it's cool."

I contemplated the awkwardness of sitting on the divine throne, and the inevitability of getting dog fur on my gross old butt. "No thanks, I'll just go sit against that wall."

"Okay!" Milton the dog said. "Oh gee, I forgot to ask: Who do I have the pleasure of writing this appointment is for?"

"...What?"

"Who's the appointment for?"

"Oh," I said. "Well, I guess... me?"

"And who are you, silly!?"

"Oh, uh, Commun Marx," I said. Milton sniffed around a bit more and then started frantically scratching at the tile floor. "Actually, make that party of two. Commun Marx, and, hopefully... Mary Lee Vindictus."

Milton looked up. "She's coming?"

"Hopefully," I said. "If her plan works out."

"Oh boy!" said the dog. He yampered over to the throne and shoved the book back under. "I can't wait! De's told me so much about her."

"Oh? Like?"

"She's a queen!" Milton yapped.

"And?"

Milton shrugged. Typical De. I sat down against the wall.



"Hm," said Milton the dog.

"What?"

"You hear that?"

"No, what is it?"

"A pregnant silence."





"I guess it is, isn't it?"





"Yes."





We both turned to the gigantic double-doors of the court as they slowly, but loudly, creaked open. This was it. We could all tell we were witnessing the dilation of the cervix of the pregnant silence. Though the court doors came none other than the Queen herself!

"She's here!" yipped Milton. He began to hop around, panting. "She's here! She's here! She's here! She's here! She's here! She's here! She's here! She's here! She's here! She's here!" He licked her legs and ran around in circles. "She's here! She's here! She's here! She's here! She's here! She's here! She's here! She's here! She's here! She's here! She's here!" He ran up to the office door and began to scratch at it.

"However did you beat me here, Commun?" Mary asked.

I shrugged.

"Did you already make an appointment?"

I lolled my hand back and forth: "sorta."

"Right this way, Miss Vindictus!" said Milton. "C'mon, hurry hurry hurry hurry hurry hurry!"

The door to De's office suddenly opened. Guess that was our invitation. "After you, miſter Marx," shrugged Mary.

The room was lit only by one bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. There were sheets of paper all over the floors and De's desk, and all four walls were practically wallpapered with scribbled-on notecards and different-colored yarn affixed by thumbtacks connecting them. She was going around, frantically but gracefully attaching and detaching the tacks in her web. It reminded me of my time in the Grand Library.

"Go," said De.

"You've got a major problem with a rogue celeſt. Nothing keepſ killing people," said Mary.

"Like her friend Adeline," I chimed in, mostly to protect Mary from her own big mouth.

"Right, and me, but I got better, and ſir Noſe but who careſ about that jerk?" Mary said.

"Your guard?" said De.

"...Oh," said Mary.

"And I'd like to," I started in, clenching and unclenching my hands. "I'd like to apologize and be forgiven for the whole attack thing, I don't know how to, uh, express that, I wasn't even really involved, I'm worried for the troops —"

"Ok," said De. Insantly, I remembered the numbers 1,031 and above. She pointed at Mary. "Why?"

"Why?" said Mary. "It sayſ it wantſ to become God of Death."

"Good," said De. She whipped around to her desk and pulled a blank index card out of her rolodex. She scrawled "NOTHING" on it and pinned it to a wall. She grabbed one end of a string off of a card marked "FABLIO" and dragged it to "NOTHING," and nodded to herself.

"Good? What?!" said Mary.

"Really!?" said I.

De just kept moving tacks and string around and nodding, ever-more fervently. We should have known she wouldn't repeat herself. A smile broke out on her faceless, grey head.

"Tell it: Free Nose and Ade for godhood," said De. She took out a piece of paper and started scrawling on it.

"But it'ſ evil!" Mary cried.

De said nothing, and began tearing superfluous notecards off the wall.

"But you get complete restitution," I said to Mary. "It won't do any more bad when it gets what it wants."

"It'll have power over the afterlife!" said Mary. De kept throwing notecards and yarn on the floor. There would be no debate.

"C'mon," I said. I dragged Mary out of the office by the arm. We disappeared from the home of the Gods, and reappeared back in the mortal world. But where in the world were we?

---

Meanwhile, at Castle Vendet, Herman Cain was standing at a corner in a hallway, talking to nobody.

"Hi," he introduced himself to the empty space before him. "I'm Herman Cain, owner and proprietor of Godfather's pizza and 2012 GOP party primary candidate." He extended his hand to shake, then gave a worried expression. "I'm sorry, I can't," he said. "I'm not allowed to leave this castle until the Herman Cain in Castle Vendet leaves. Oh, shoot! I'm desynced now! Video's going to be real upset if I don't get back in character..." He paused for a moment. "Nine. Nine. Nine. Simple and brilliant, wouldn't you say?"

I must take a detour now to clarify: he wasn't a part of a sci-fi hivemind or under the effects of a magic spell cast by Video or anything like that, he was just crazy and stupid and talking to himself like a typical politician.

That's when the Remdat, Duke of Remdat, across both castles, said to both Cains: "What are you doing?"

"Practicing my speech," said Herman Cain. "Has to seem off-the-cuff and spontaneous, so I figure it oughta be incoherent."

"...Your speech for what?" said both Remdats.

"Milton's coronation! It's a sure thing, don't tell nobody," said both Herman Cains.

"Mhm," said Remdat, who suddenly lunged at defenseless Herman Cain with a pizza cutter! Heroic Herman Cain wrassled the knife out of Remdat's hand and plunged it into his neck.

Meanwhile in the pizza castle, the simulated Remdat rolled out of the way of the lethal slice. "Please help me," he begged me, Grub, crying. "I don't want to die for impersonation."

"Hey, that's not fair!" said the fake Cain (and the real one.) "Now I'm off too!"

"Please!" begged Remdat more, clinging to my legs for dear life.

How could I spin this so it helped me out with my burgeoning small business?