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They Shared a Coke at the Bar at The End of The Universe
Two women came into a bar at the end of the universe, or perhaps at a bar between two universes. When the barkeep asked what they wanted to drink they answered simultaneously, “A Coke.” The man behind the counter said he only had one left, and the women looked at each other and said, “We’ll share.”
As they sat down the first woman took a sip. She wore a crown upon her head and a cloak as red as spilled blood. Then the second woman took a sip. She wore a grinning latex mask and a jacket as black as the night sky.
“So you have been a king, you have been killed, and now you will be king again?”
“The laws of the land are very simple. You kill the king, you take their place.”
“I suppose I could get used to that.”
“Are there no kings or rulers where you’re from?”
“No. There are no kings, but we do have rulers. I don’t think I could ever be in charge though. I’m more of a knight than anything else. A black knight.”
“I’d match your choice, in headwear at the very least.”
A hand almost fully clad in leather ran callused fingers against broken metal.
“I suppose you could, but I could not without soon growing bored. It’s much more fun to shoot and run and kill.”
The king sips from their drink, sweet and carbonated. A bloodied sword hangs at her hip. Its shine brings images of precious gems to the forefront of the mind when confronted. This is all she needs.
The madman drinks next, the can still cool and crisp as ever. At both her sides are guns of all shapes and sizes. Handgun, shotgun, pistol, rifle, even a few grenades and a switchblade. But on her back is a weapon of her own design. A gun that when confronted with one would believe to be a rocket launcher or bazooka. This is all she needs.
Both are favorites of their user, and both could cut a man in half. A king driven by her lust for power, and a gunner driven by her lust for blood.
Just then a third women enters the bar. When the barkeep asks what she’ll have to drink she answers, “A Coke.” The man behind the counter says they have the last one. The women look at each other and say, “We’ll share.”
The newest woman takes a sip and says, “It’s about time we all met.”
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A few weeks ago I started writing a story about a king, then I started writing a story about a good-hearted psycho. Let's see what happens when they meet.