An Attack Helicopter Brought us Together

Epilogue Part II

Epilogue Part II

Among Us, the army and Army

The next morning...

We touch down in the gardens of Buckingham palace (we decided it'd be safer to come here than to go back to our place in South Korea - too close to the scene of the crime!) and destroy a beautiful marble pebble pathway and the helicopter blades chop off the tops of a few historic topiaries, but they really shouldn't have been there - this is our landing space!

Servants scurry up to the helicopter and help us down and take our baggage. The twenty-six royal nannies I hired to look after Trash and Emily II come and argue about who will carry who to the nursery, and in the end I hand them over to my two favourites, who almost always end up taking them. Relieved to have the two grubs off my hands, Junk and I order breakfast and head up to my suite.

The food arrives, along with a message.

"'The Pharaoh of Egypt, Ember, enquires after your health'," the servants stammered, reading off a long letter, "'and hopes you are okay. She thanks you for coming to her wedding, and was saddened that you left early, but she also understands your plight'... your majesty, what happened, if I may enquire?"

"You may NOT," I squeal.

"Pardon, mistress," the servant bows his shiny bald head.

"Don't call me that," I growl, "It makes me sound old."

"Pardon again, mistre- your majesty. Would you care to hear the remainder of the letter?"

"Very well," I sniff regally as I dunk a giant chocolate-chip cookie in my coffee with a splash that leaves soggy crumbs all over the floor.

"'The Pharaoh, Ember, says she hopes to see you soon. She also must inform you that President Serena of the United States has... dealt with the threat.' Your majesty!" he dips his head, which is going red and sweaty as panic spreads across his face, "There was a threat!? To you, and your lineage!? Oh my! Whoever-"

"STOP YOUR BLUBBERING AND READ THE GODDAMN LETTER!!!" I yelp and start doing the Joe-y dance.

He suddenly clutches his crotch - which I find alarming - and a look of pure joyous amazement spreads across his face.

"Your majesty!" he beams, "You have cured my prostate cancer!"

"Ew," I analyse.

"Pardon, your majesty," he dips his head, "I have lived with the pain a long time. You have saved me! I forfeit my pay for a year, and pledge my eternal service to you."

"That's cute, but I'm taken."

"You sound like Penelope when Suga was going after her," Junk nudges my ribs playfully.

"Ugh," I roll my eyes, "Just read the letter, bub."

He straightens his back and turns back to the letter, "Hem, hem. As I was reading, 'President Serena of the United States has... dealt with the threat. Rather... violently?'"

He looks like he's about to go into another fit of 'OH NO YOUR MAJESTY HOW TERRIBLE!' so I cut him off, "Go on."

"'The Drunk Mosquitos are reconvening in your apartment in South Korea, and would like you there - there are several important issues to discuss, and things to do. Oh, and BTS want your esteemed husband back to play another round of Among Us-'"

"Heck yas," Junk jumps up, knocking the table over. It falls out the window in an explosion of crystalline glass and crumbs, "Whoops...?"

I peer out the shattered remains of the window and see a fat lady with straw-coloured hair pinned to the pavement by a thousand shards of glass through her fat bosoms.