Geric - The Golden Edna

No Winning

The ground shook ferociously. Stones dropped from the ceiling, smacking down with an echoing bang. Cracks rippled across the architecture as Edna began to shine. She grew brighter. Blinding. Eric covered his eyes, as Horseman chirped nervously. He rocked on the spot, trying to maintain his balance until--

Nothing.

Peace. Serenity.

Eric removed his hand gingerly, apprehensive of what might be before him. He blinked rapidly, rubbing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. In front of him stood a figure. Just barely taller than him, with the posture of someone proud to be existing.

"Gerald." The name slipped through his lips.

"My Eric." His grin was hearable in his inflection.

They ran towards each other - not very far - before embracing each other in a swift handshake.

His eyes began to water. "I can't believe you're alive, Gerald."

"I don't remember a thing, Eric. And now, I feel fine. Great, even. Empowered, perhaps. Invincible, maybe."

Eric laughed dryly. "Let's not test the Overlord, hey?"

"You have no idea how much I've missed you, Eric. I was there in spirit, you know. I kept your boxes on the boat when times got tough." Gerald said, smiling as he flexed his huge muscles.

"That was you?"

"Of course it was. I'm crazy good like that. Although, throughout it all, it only felt like seconds for me."

"It's been months for me." A bittersweet grin on Eric's face as they shook hands gently. "And it was so, so worth it."

"For sure, for sure. I mean, have you seen me? I'm one in a kind." Gerald said, grunting as he power-posed in more positions. "Actually, where are we? Where's the nearest mirror?"

"Sewer underneath the gender-neutral toilets after we got flushed after three months of sea travel."

"Mirror can't be that far then. I need to see my glutes in this outfit." Gerald said, walking towards the side door and stepping over the robed man's unconscious body.

Eric followed after, pushing up his man-pecs in his crop-top. "You're dashing as ever, Gerald."

"I know. I'm more dashing, even. Say, where's the closest local with a mirror? I'm tired of doing this myself." He said, releasing an obnoxious sigh as he came to a stop in the middle of a hallway.

"It can be our first date!" Eric replied, desperate to appease his gentleman.

"Pshh, please. I could think of a million things better than that."

Eric gulped down his worries, and puffed out his chest. "I don't appreciate this, Gerald. I went through torture to get you back, and all you can think of is looking at yourself! I'm looking like a bomb-ass bitch right now!"

"Eric, I'll deal with you soon." He announced, before turning away to the hallway. "How do I get out of this god-forsaken hell-hole?" He mumbled to himself.

"Gerald! Don't use such language!" Eric gasped in dismay.

Horseman snuck up behind the shocked man, sliding his flipper across Eric's shoulder. "Psst, Bromeo, I think we need to talk."

Eric's eyes watered, a downtrodden frown on his face. "What is it, HorseyM?"

"Your wish... You said something about sacrificing the bourgeoisie for him, right, my Brossiah?"

"I think..."

"I'm the King of the World!" Gerald screamed, running backwards and forwards at the same time.

"What if it went wrong? What if, instead of killing the bourgeoisie for him, the bourgeoisie went inside him. And that made this into a Bad Bromance?"