Hallowe'en 2008 2

Good job his cheeks were artificially paled. "Um... I suspect I may be her next murder victim, now you've said that."

He wasn't too worried about that. Just cast a single look to make sure the Knight hadn't gone anywhere.

"It depends on how much I like you this evening," said the Queen -- with a dry tone perfectly suited for a headstrong, dominant wife.

"Married. I should have guessed." Although disappointed, the Knight took this blow steadfastly.

The King folded his arms and pouted.

The doom beast sidled towards Joker and whispered "Knight to e6: take my wife, please."

She more or less surreptitiously pointed at the White Knight with a thumb, asking the doombeast a bit confusedly, "Is he married, too?"

"He's a knight bachelor. Why, are you offering?" asked the doom beast. His grin was very white. He would probably have enjoyed the Joker sticking around, too.

The Queen turned to slowly regard the Knight. A moment passed before she finally allowed the short twitch of a smile appear; she untied a handkerchief from her scythe and seemed to settle for playing with it indolently. It was probably cruel, but that's what made it fun.

"He seems to be more interested in the tall, dark, aristocratic type," the joker answered regretfully.

"Egh, you have no idea," the doom beast said, drooping his ears and tail a little.

The Black King transferred one of his hands - excuse us, his midnight death gauntlets - to his hip and addressed the Knight. "Yes she is, cur, so I'll thank you to stop giving her the eye. I know all about you errant sorts."

The Knight's gaze flicked towards him briefly. "Indeed, sir?"

"It seems someone else has seen through your carapace, and hit upon the effete underneath," the Queen said cheerfully.

"What about my feet?" asked Weft, looking a little hurt.

"Effete, your majesty. The lady says you are an irrelevance. A spent force," White Knight helpfully told him.

Black King rallied back into character. "Ooh! I shall have you thrown in the tower for that!" he said to his 'wife'.

"By whom?" the Joker asked eagerly, trying to send a message of 'I'd like to find some fellow minions'.

The Queen cracked a wide predatory grin and sidled up to Black King, placing a hand over where his collarbone lay underneath the armour. "Yes, I too would like to know how many of your people are more afraid of you than me," she said gently, this time as if talking to a geriatric.

The Black King's mouth was very dry. The height difference (the Queen was a good three inches taller) added a further touch of the ridiculous to this little tableau.

He took her hand and moved it away, eyes fixed on hers.

"I'm not at all sure you'd find the answer to your liking," he said. "Beautiful you may be, but the people know a sickle-toting upstart when they see one."

"Oh, such flattery -- and such impotent words," the Queen said, the white side of her face home to a twitchy smile. She casually gestured with her wayward hand. "The people know that, but they also know that hell hath no fury like a scythe-toting shrew. Am I right, beastie, good Jester?"

"Mrf? Yeah!" said the beast through a mouthful of red-hearted marshmallows.

"As far as I know, that is so," the Joker answered earnestly. The only hellish scythe-toting shrews she'd met had been minor imps, not furies.

"Minion! Doom beast! You will pay for this disloyalty. As for you..." the Black King continued, turning back to the Queen.

"Your majesty, if I may offer a word of advice?" put in the White Knight.

The glaring Black King threatened him diagonally.

"I should not talk in such a manner to a lady, especially one who already happens to be dressed becomingly for a widow," said the Knight, who was resting one hand on his fake sword hilt.

The doom beast was trying to dislodge some sticky sweets from his palate, and making a great many funny faces in the process.

The Hell Queen looked suitably amused. Especially when she caught the doom beast at work. Ignoring the two men, she then looked at Joker and shrugged innocently enough.

The Joker gave her a grin and a nod before helping the hellbeast to a bowl of water. Good organised, this place, and knowing the usual guests, providing one along with the glasses.

The doom beast said "fankf". The servants, all wearing those blank horse-head masks still, were efficient.