LNHY: Death of Trophy Wife #8: "Trophy Wife Actually Appears In This One"

[Drew Perron]

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     Issue Eight: "Trophy Wife Actually Appears In This One" by Drew Perron
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Content warning: General horniness, horny for death.

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Trophy Wife stood, alongside Death of Trophy Wife, at the foot an endless, 
ethereal staircase, flanked by enormous golden humanoids, radiant like the sun, 
and leading up into a dazzling, multicolor sky. It was breathtaking, wondrous, 
like every climactic moment of relief in a movie.

Or it was at first, anyway. But her Death had told Trophy Wife that there was 
going to be a wait, and boy, was there ever. The line might've moved ten feet. 
Backwards. And even though she was no longer tied to temporal sensation, even 
though her body was neither flesh nor gold but pure spirit, she was getting 
*antsy*. Even heavenly beauty got boring when it was just... *there*.

"We could make out," said Death of Trophy Wife, arm around Trophy Wife's elbow.

Trophy Wife sighed, hand on her Death's hand. "We've done that three times 
already. And there's not anywhere to slip off to and do *more*, and it's 
frustrating."

"We could get under one of the robes that those enormous golden humanoids are 
wearing. I bet they won't mind."

"Ick. They probably have transcendent immanent self-awareness, and I really 
don't want to be some angel's cosmic wank-fodder." Well, not without getting to 
know the angel, anyway.

"Hey, babes. How's it poppin'?" Trophy Wife turned her head and saw a man; a 
luminous man, round like the moon on the ocean, radiating a warmth that was no 
less cheerful for the twisty, spiraling paths it corkscrewed down.

"What do *you* want, Dayspring?" said Death of Trophy Wife, but Trophy Wife 
couldn't miss the fond edge to her words.

"Just hiding out from the fuzz, as you do, and wanted to meet your lady friend." 
He bowed and doffed his dandyish hat. Trophy Wife found herself giggling, less 
artificially than she usually did; maybe it was because he was so obviously 
performing for her, or maybe it was just the lack of that hungry gaze. Not that 
he didn't have the feel of someone ready to fool around...

"Yes, well. We're a bit occupied..." She glanced up at the endless stair and its 
queue of patient-ish souls. "...buuuut I suppose a bit of distraction wouldn't 
be out of place."

"Distraction, eh?" He put his hat back on, casually flexing a spectral muscle, 
making the spectral tattoo on it - a snake curled around an apple - dance. 
"Well, since she's so interested in getting to know death, you could take her to 
see *the* death."

"*The* death?" Death of Trophy Wife frowned, her slight unibrow arching. "What 
do you-- oh, no. *No* way in hell, or indeed heaven, am I taking her on a 
trip... *there*."

Trophy Wife raised her own eyebrow. "Ah... where is there?"

"The big kahuna," said Dayspring. "The death to end all deaths. The Death of 
Looniverse-Y."

"*Oh*." That certainly sounded dangerous, terrible, and more interesting than 
hanging around here.

"I can't take her to see that," protested Death of Trophy Wife. "She wouldn't... 
it takes a while for mortal souls to let go to the point where they can handle 
that."

"Now, wait just a moment," said Trophy Wife, turning to her Death. "I *have* 
stared an Elder God right in its lidless eye. As you should well know."

"Yeah, I remember that a little too well." Death of Trophy Wife fingered the 
chest of her spirit form, and the old scar of memory there. "But this is as high 
above that as that is above some kid with a Oujia board."

Trophy Wife looked off into the distance. "I was born to die. We all are, 
really. And I think I did a pretty good job of a heroic ending. But I've always 
been pulled towards death, a visceral, animal attraction. And even if my soul's 
light gets snuffed out here, I really wanted to go out with a *bang*."

"...was that melancholy and bittersweet, or are you just horny to have sex on 
top of the death of an entire universe?"

She grinned. "It could be both."

"Oh my god." Death of Trophy Wife rolled her eyes and heaved a huge, 
performative sigh. "Well I guess I can't turn *that* combination down. Thanks, 
Dayspring."

"De nada. And here's one for the road." He took off his hat, did a little 
magician's twirl, then pulled out a box from behind Trophy Wife's ear and set it 
in her hands. It was long and rectangular, with a clear panel on the front, 
showing a golden fashion doll inside, looking just like Trophy Wife. Her name 
was written in looping script on the side.

"Hmmm," she hmmm'd. "And is this supposed to say something about me, Mr. Dayspring?"

"Not at all, ma'am," he grinned. "I'm just a fiend for gifts. And it might come 
in handy, down the road."

"I see." She stowed it away in her memories and squeezed Death of Trophy Wife's 
hand. "Shall we?"

Death of Trophy Wife grumbled a bit. "We're gonna lose our place in line..." But 
she lead Trophy Wife off the path, and past the sentinels, and beyond, to the 
secret places...

Drew "no notes this time, I think it's quite good tho" Perron