Chapter 13
"You're sweet on him," Priscilla Sarsaparilla Barbarella Thorn accused, as the Mad King lightly stroked the Viscount of Candy Corn's sugary scalp.
"My dear, you are reading into the matter," the Mad King said. "This is a purely professional massage, between a king and his loyal subject. Now, I'll admit Franklin here is quite a snack—I do love the way he murders those hapless trick-or-treaters—but YOU are my wife."
"So was Lyrica. And Estella. And Henrietta!" And many more she couldn't remember at the moment. "Look what happened to THEM!"
"Yes, well," Oswald laughed, "nothing is going to happen to YOU, dear. You're already dead."
The viscount purred.
