Substitute (Mythklok, Chapter 38)

[tikific]

Title: Substitute (Mythklok, Chapter 38)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Tsk! Kidnapping again!
Warnings: Slash, AU, including an AU to the AU, OCs, tons of smoking, EXTRA SUPER BAD SWEARING, excessive cuteness (at the end) - this one just got totally out of control folks
Notes: Notes after the jump.

Cross-posted to capslokdethklok.

OK, here's your pie. I mean, your Mythklok. This is the last bit of the Santeria Arc, where I set the adorable-ness level to thermonuclear. SEE IF YOU CAN RESIST TEH CUTE!



Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU in which Charles is Sariel, an angel who fell to earth and subsequently got adopted by a death metal band. If you're behind and for some strange reason wanna catch up, the best place is my fic journal, tikific, where you are welcome to come visit the bits I’ve written and maybe poke them with a pointed stick. I've also written a general introduction in case you wanna jump in the middle of things, or have forgotten all this stuff due to Real Life.

So, Dethklok got their delicious cheese snacks, and their performance saved the universe (er, aside from the little supernova they caused). Unfortunately, it turns out that the spell that's holding Charles there is sort of irreversible, so he's stuck in an alternit yooniverse, doods! (Also, NO THANKS TO TAM, who was writing pie songs instead of helping him!!!) Oh well. I'm sure Dethklok will get on fine without him....

Substitute

Two angels sat talking in the gardens at Valhalla.

"So, the wanderers are definitely on their way back?" inquired Phanuel the Grey.

Raziel nodded.

"And your Brother?"

"Ganesha will take care of it."

"You seem utterly confident. Elegba is an adept. He is perhaps the most elegant practitioner of Santeria in any universe."

Raziel grinned. "Nope. Can't keep those two apart. Ganesha wouldn't let death keep him away. He's hardly gonna give up for a little voudoun."

Phanuel smiled thinly. "In future, it would assist me if someone were to convince Pickles to cease such wandering whilst in an inebriated state."

"I can talk to him, but you know, these days, he Walks where he damn well pleases."

"The destruction of Creation through a Pickles-induced discontinuity would be pleasing to nobody," the Grey angel sniffed.

"Hey. They just SAVED a universe. Give 'em a break."

Phanuel shook his head. "That was, by the way, a rather bold move against Seth."

She shrugged. "It was defensive."

"I don't believe such a thing is possible, from you." He studied her. "You could consider rejoining the Legion. Serving under me."

"Thanks. But, I'm gonna be busy for a while." She patted her stomach. "Maybe in another 20 years."

Phanuel rose. "I cannot long tarry here. Thank you once again for keeping Tzaphkiel in your care." He politely extended a hand and helped Raziel to her feet.

"You wanna listen before ya go?"

Phanuel extended a careful hand to Raziel's stomach. He closed his eyes.

His expression slipped to a brief smile. As the sound of small angels singing is wont to do.

He somewhat reluctantly removed his hand. "I really must be going now." He leaned over and kissed Raziel's forehead. "Goodbye, little one."

"Goodbye, Father."

In another universe....

Sariel stumbled back to Ganesh's estate, not willing to think.

"My Ganesh sent these with the boys," he said, handing over some drawings to Raziel. She unrolled them, arching an eyebrow.

"Pretty racy!" she said. "You pose winged for him?"

"Yes. I do. But, he's tried to capture the anatomy of them."

She started rolling the drawings back up, sadly shaking her head. "Thanks. But, I just don't think this will do any good. For one thing, I'm so fucking big in my Seraph Form...."

"You don't have a smaller Form?"

"What?"

"Human-sized? Like me?"

"I'm a Seraph, Sariel! We don't have ... beings like you here."

"Try," he urged.

She scowled at him, but then shrugged, and appeared to be concentrating.

And then, suddenly, she was winged. Small dark angel wings had burst out, right through her blouse.

She blinked at Sariel.

"Whoa! She does have great tits," Dethklok Nathan shouted from the next room.

She grinned at Nathan, but then emitted a cry, as Sariel suddenly had her up over one shoulder and was marching her into another room.

"What are you fucking doing, Sariel!" she howled, changing back to Court Form as he thumped her down. "Nathan is cute!"

"No!" he said. He started to remove his shirt.

"Oh, is that...?" she started, but then he abruptly shoved her back and started to pull his shirt on her.

"I said, no!" he told her, pointing his index finger in her face.

She blinked at him, upset and confused. "What do you think you are, my big fucking brother or something?"

"I am your Little Brother," he told her, buttoning his shirt on her. "You always protected me. And somehow, I don't know how, that kept you out of trouble. Well, the worst trouble."

"But Ganesh...."

"Ganesh isn't my Honored Sister." He glared at her, holding her shoulders. "When I got here, he was bored and unhappy. You were in a fucking wheelchair."

She scowled. Then sighed. "Yeah. I guess."

"Let him look at your wings. It will give him something more useful than those idiot models."

"Sounds sorta kinky. OK." She looked at him curiously. "Aren't you gonna go with your band."

"There's been a hitch."

"Oh, shit. Sariel. What did Jacque do?"

"He says Elegba's spell was irreversible."

"That motherfucking sonuvabitch! I'm gonna go-"

"Raziel. No. I'll figure it out. OK? Somehow I'll figure it out." Or else I won't. "Just, don't tell the boys for now. OK?"

"Dood? Yoo ready t' go?"

He turned to talk to Pickles.

"I still gotta work something out. With my father."

"Oh, like wut?"

Charles didn't answer. "You need to take them back now," he told Pickles. "To minimize whatever damage."

Pickles frowned. "You wanna say...?"

"I will be back soon. Then I can say anything and everything I have to say." Charles was staring stubbornly at the floor.

"OK, I'll take 'em. But dood...."

Charles remained stubbornly silent.

He didn't actually see Pickles leave, as he was still staring furiously at Ganesh's beautiful hardwoods. But he knew when the drummer had gone.

And he could feel it when the band was no longer present.

His back against the wall, he sagged down to crouch in the doorway, alone and utterly miserable.

He felt a familiar small hand grip his elbow.

"We have this really dumb thing that we've started doing," Raziel said, pulling him up to a standing position and leading to the next room. "Do you like human movies? We get popcorn and we watch 'em."

She led him to the media room, where Ganesh was already seated on the couch. "Are you familiar with a film called, 'Bringing up Baby?" he inquired

"That's a good one," Sariel told him.

Raziel eagerly curled up on the couch next to Ganesh, and they clicked on the remote. Sariel sat down on the other end of the couch, thinking sadly that at this point, his Ganesh would be trying to figure out a way to get Sariel to sit like that. He wasn't an easy bastard to live with, he guessed.

They watched and ate popcorn for a time. And Sariel even might have smiled.

Then they turned to the news, and were for a time mesmerized by the top story: a gun battle had erupted at the Dick Knubbler Presents a Dr. John's Celebrity Rehab Mystery Concert After Party and Invitational Charity Miniature Golf Tournament, between Dick Knubbler and his old rival, Gil Ejector.

Then they heard a commotion that didn't involve the recording industry.

A very large, very red god was in their midst.

“Uncle?” said Ganesh.

"Can't find a confounded thing in this ridiculous house of yours! Such nonsense!"

“Great Brahma! Auntie Sarasvati!” said Sariel.

“Oh, hello, little jaanu!” Sarasvati trilled. The large, many-armed goddess was holding a small bundle in her many arms.

“Wait, you know me?” Sariel asked.

“Of course we know you! Why wouldn’t we know you?” Brahma harrumphed.

“So, you’re not from this universe?”

“We’re from ALL universes! Couldn’t go around being different in every universe! Such nonsense! Would completely cock up the record keeping!”

“Ah.”

“Young people and their alternative universe. Bunch of nonsense. Not, there’s just one Great Brahma! That’s all the worlds need!”

“And you were going to tell him something, my little gumdrop?” Sarasvati asked.

“Oh, yes! So, I had started wondering why my Sarasvati took to you so, Sariel the Angel. She doesn’t take to just everybody, you know! Do you, Sarasvati?”

“No, I don’t take to just anyone!” Sarasvati trilled.

“And then we remembered, didn’t we?”

“Yes, jaanu, then we remembered!”

“We had this one come in. I thought it was a cock up in the record keeping! Not possible! I’m not like that great cow turd Morningstar! I don’t cock up my records!”

Sarasvati tipped down the bundle.

She was holding a baby.

She pulled down the wrap. Sariel and Raziel crowded around. Sariel sputtered.

The baby had a crop of fine, silvery hair. As Sarasvati pulled back the blanket, it blinked open a pair tiny silvery eyes, and flapped a pair of very small, downy-feathered wings. The down already had a distinct silvery tint to it.

The baby started to fuss. It obviously possessed a very healthy pair of angel lungs.

“Obviously not one of ours!” boomed Brahma over the infant caterwauling. "But I checked the records, didn’t I, my pet?"

“Yes, he rechecked the records.”

“My Sarasvati is always inclined towards the babies, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yes, I’m so inclined towards the babies.”

“This is Tzaphkiel’s baby?” Sariel managed to break in.

“Oh, yes, jaanu, this is you! Well, not you, but the you in this universe!” Sarasvari told him.

“Alternate universe. A bunch of confusing rat dung, as far as I’m concerned!” Brahma huffed.

Ganesh had quietly stepped forward. He was staring, transfixed, at the tiny infant. He held out a pair of trembling hands to Sarasvati, and she gently placed the crying baby in his arms.

He clasped it. It gave one or two very small rasping breaths, and then ceased fussing. And then the small silvery eyes fluttered shut, the little wings furled, and a terribly tiny snore emitted.

“Oh, look at that, he’s a natural. Isn’t he a natural, Brahma?” Sarasvati asked.

“Hmpf! About time the boy was good for something. You were never a cricketer! Not like your brother.”

“Can I take him, Auntie?” Ganesh asked Sarasvati.

“Well, of course you can!” Brahma harrumphed. “This universe has been lacking! Someone not on the job! Those fucking angels and their intrigues! I told Sarasvati, they’re going to cause a rift. Didn’t I just say that?”

“You were just saying that, jaanu.”

"And we can't give him to that rascal, Jacque! He's an undue influence!"

"Yes, he is extremely undue," Sarasvati agreed.

"Well, unless you want baby's first words to be 'cocksucking motherfucker,'" Sariel grinned.

Ganesh scowled at him.

Sariel sat down in Ganesh's living room. He told himself it probably wasn't for the best that he remain around ... himself too long, despite the difference in ages.

He wasn't clear how he felt. Complicated? Was that a feeling?

"Doooooooood!" He looked up. Pickles. Death Frog Pickles. It was getting easier to tell them apart. He had always doubted it when parents of identical twins claimed the brats were nothing alike. Now he was beginning to wonder.

"Pickles. Did you, ah, Walk here?"

"I totally walked here! It's so cooooooool!"

Sariel wondered precisely how much psychoactive substance Pickles had had to ingest to being himself to this state. He surmised that this one was as drug resistant as his own.

"You realize that the Spirit Walk can be quite dangerous, correct?"

"Doooooood."

Sariel sighed. Well, for the record, he had tried.

"Dood, what's wit' da baby dood?"

"That's uh..... Well, uh, that's actually me. In this universe."

Pickles blinked. His eyes suddenly seemed to focus. "Dood. Dat's our angel?"

"Well. I guess so."

Pickles was getting teary eyed. Sariel prayed this Pickles wasn't a hugger.

"Den, will he help us?" Pickles asked.

"I think.... Well, I think Ganesh, and Raziel, and Dick will help you. For now."

"Yeah. 'Cause. He's a small little dude."

"That he is."

"I don't t'ink he can kill people yet."

"Uh, no."

"Or negotiate wit' record doods."

"Probably not. For another year or so."

"But, he totally smiled at me!"

"Well. That's very nice."

"So, are you gonna go back t' yer doods now?"

"I hope so. I really, really hope so. Uh. So you think Death Frog is a go?"

"Oh, we're nawt Deat' Frog no more."

"Ah, another name change?"

Yeh."

Pickles' grin was so much like that of his own Pickles, Sariel found himself smiling. "And...?"

"Tit Clock!"

"Well, that's very...."

"See, we're t'inking, a clock. Only, it's made o' tits! An', everybody likes tits!"

"That's.... Yeah. That's true."

Sariel was awake early the next day. He heard what sounded like a familiar voice singing, so he popped his head into the Ganesh's kitchen.

Ganesh had the angel baby in the sink. It was difficult for Sariel to think of it as himself. Ganesh was bathing it, and quietly singing. Sariel tried to think whether he’d ever heard his Ganesh sing. He had a pleasant voice.

The tiny slivery eyes stared in adoration as Ganesh soaped the little body. He smiled, and placed a dab of suds on the button nose. He got a tiny smile and a splash of tiny wings in return.

Sariel leaned against the door frame, transfixed. Then he felt a familiar hand entwine with his, and he let himself be led away.

“I guess I don’t understand,” he told Raziel.

“That’s what’s called love at first sight,” she grinned.

“But it’s not gonna grow up to be me. Not by a long shot. I had a terrible childhood. I sure as fuck didn’t have a gorgeous guy singing to me.”

“OK, no offense, but I don't think Ganesh was looking for you. He was looking for his Sariel.”

“I guess so,” Sariel said, finding he actually was a little bit offended by this.

“So, this Uncle Wotan, is he cute?” Raziel asked.

“You don’t waste any time.”

“I’m not really a baby person.”

“You’re not?” he laughed.

She frowned at him.

“Yes, Uncle Wotan is very cute. And he should be very rich, which makes him even cuter.”

She arched an eyebrow. “What does he do, this Wotan?”

“He’s king.”

“Cool. Will I like him?”

“Bring a change of clothes.”

She grinned. “Whoops! I think your friends broke the spell. You’re fading!”

He looked at his own hands. She was right. She pulled him down and, before he could protest, kissed his forehead.

And then he was on the floor.

Ganesh was holding him in two sets of arms.

He pushed himself back.

“Fuck! Am I in the right universe?”

“You’re fine!” It was Raziel’s voice. Sariel looked up. She was comfortingly pregnant. “I told him the beard was a bad idea.”

Bearded Ganesh was still looking at him through watery eyes. Bearded Ganesh's breathing started getting ragged.

“OK. Bearded Ganesh?" Sariel pleaded. "Don’t do it! Pleeeeeease don't do it.”

Raziel giggled. “Aw, let him! He’s been awesome since this started! Well, except for that horrible beard. He guessed about the other universe. And figured out the binding spell thingie!"

Sariel sighed. He motioned Ganesh on, and the waterworks started. “It’s OK. There there.”

After a time, to distract himself, he looked around the room. "Whoa. What happened here?" The usually spotless and neat residence looked as if Dethklok had just hosted a party for spree killers.

"Voudoun!" Raziel grinned.

"I am new to ... Santeria," Ganesh sniffed, "I think ... I made a bit ... of a mess."

Sariel stood, helping a rather unsteady Ganesh to his feet.

"Jacque told me he used an irreversible spell."

"You couldn't reverse the spell. So, I didn't!" Ganesh told them, proudly. "I just cast it in this direction, only I made it an order of magnitude more powerful!"

Sariel looked in wonder. His boyfriend - his strict vegetarian boyfriend - had saturated the floors - with blood.

"I think as a consequence," Ganesh continued, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, "you are now free to walk between universes. So, if you'd like to visit your father again...."

"Yeah. I'd like to. And come back with the cocksucker's head on my machete."

"Machete?" asked Raziel, her eyes widening at the mention of a novel pointy object. He pulled out the silver blade from Jacque, to much clapping and squealing from a delighted Raziel.

As they were not able to persuade Bearded Ganesh to dispense with the beard nor to take a nice week long nap, they had seen him off to work.

“You know in that other universe, you guys were together?" Sariel told Raziel. "I mean, together.”

“Holy shit! Really? How did I do it?”

“I dunno. He seemed kinda bored. And, he didn’t have me.”

“Oh, so all I gotta do is knock you off?” She grinned.

“Raziel! What about Wotan?”

“Hey, you got Ganesh and Pickles. Greedy bastard.”

“Yeah, I am. But, anyway, he got a me, so I think you decided to go after Wotan.”

“Oh, well, that was probably a good decision. Though I bet her Wotan isn’t as cute as mine.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“And where did they find the you?”

“Brahma and Sarasvati brought me!”

“What?”

“The angels had killed me. Me and Tzaphkiel. Right after I was born.”

“Wait. So the other Ganesh...."

"Has a reincarnated baby Sariel. Yeah.”

“Isn’t that a little weird?”

“He’s immortal. He can wait.”

“Yeah, but….” She shook her head. “Well, anyway, what’s your dad like?”

“Colossal asshole." Sariel feinted with the silver machete. "He drinks like a fish, smokes like a chimney and curses a blue streak. He wears machetes as a fashion accessory.”

Raziel smiled. “He sounds awesome.”

Sariel grinned. “Yep.”

“But, he kidnapped you?”

“Well, we obviously have some issues to work on.”

"And he had that made for you?" she asked, pointing to the blade.

"Yeah. Says I'm a fucking Ogoun now."

"Wait, he gave you a Name?"

"He just kind of mentioned it in passing."

Raziel stood, arms crossed over her ample stomach. "When he just kind if mentioned this in passing, was there rum involved? Or cigars?"

"Yeah," Sariel shrugged. Raziel didn't speak for a while, so he finally said, "What?"

"Nothing. I just think you're gonna be spending a bit of time working on your issues."

Mordhaus....

"Look, I took care of everything. We've got a contractor. They clean up after our record release parties. I've sent 'em up to your place. They'll get it all back to normal, no questions asked."

Ganesh was sitting on Sariel's bed at Mordhaus, his shoes already kicked off. He blinked. "The people who clean up after your parties can get rooster blood out of a carpet?" he asked dubiously.

"Ha. Should be a sinch compared to what they're used to. You can just stay down here a couple days, then when you go back, it'll be like it never happened. I'll be better than before!"

Ganesh nodded blearily.

"Look," Sariel said. "I've been thinking. It's probably not good that we're always up at your place. I mean, I like it up there too, away from all the crap, but I think I just need to be down here more. Does that make sense?"

"Uh-huh." Ganesh lay back on the bed.

Sariel scowled. "Ganesh, is that an, 'I agree with you,' uh-huh. Or is that an, 'I'm too fucking tired to argue,' uh-huh? Or is that an, 'I have no fucking idea what you just said so I'll say uh-huh to fill in the space,' uh-huh?"

"Uh-huh."

Sariel grinned and hopped onto the bed. "OK, maybe not such a good time for talking." He crawled over and straddled Ganesh. "Know what I'm gonna do now? I'm gonna fucking pull off all your clothes...."

There was no "uh-huh" of any meaning this time. Just a soft snore.

Sariel sighed. "...and watch you sleep. Gods dammit."

He entered his empty office, meaning to finally grab his fucking laptop and get going back to bed. Sleeping Bearded Ganesh, he decided, was better than no Ganesh at all.

"Charles! Dood! T'ank god! Set's got my parents!" He wasn't entirely certain whether Pickles had appeared, or simply ran in, as he was breathless.

"Pickles? Seth did what?"

"Da fecker convinced my parents t' move t' feckin' Australia!"

"Huh." Charles found he was not quite prepared to go back to full metal manager mode, so hopped up to sit on his desk. "Well, did they..."

"Dick Knubbler isch quitting!"

"William! What-"

"You've got to schtop him!" the bassist raved.

"Wait, dood, I had my emergency first."

"Oh, I get it, Picklesch getsch priority now. Why don't I juscht kill myschelf?"

"He doesn't get priority," Charles patiently explained, "He just happened to be in the office first...."

"Oh, so yoo don't feckin' care about my parents, jist da feckin' album?"

"OK, maybe if you could both sit down...."

"WHY WASN'T I INVITED TO THIS MEETING?" Nathan boomed.

"Uh, Nathan, this isn't really..." Charles started.

"I HAVE ISSUES,"

"Well, all right, Nathan, why don't you sit down, and we'll...."

"I t'inks I ams gay!"

The room went dead silent as all present turned to stare at Skwisgaar.

"Uhhh," Charles said at length. "Can we handle Pickles first?"

"Dood, 'cause yoo made out wit' Ganesh in dat alternit yooniverse?" Pickles scoffed.

"So many ladies ams be's disappoint," Skwisgaar sighed, plopping down in a guest chair and swinging his feet up onto Charles's desk.

"Can you not.... The feet...." Charles started. "OK, whatever. Do you or do you not still wish to have relations with your female groupies?"

"Ja! Of course!" He fiddled with a riff on his Gibson.

"OK. Congratulations." Charles leaned over and made this sign of the pentagram before Skwisgaar. "You are now bisexual. Go forth and have relations with any kind of groupie."

"He's what?" thundered Nathan.

"I ams not have to give up da lovelies ladies?" Skwisgaar asked.

"No, you do not have to give up your lovely ladies."

"What about Dick?" Murderface insisted.

"Wut, yer dick is in trouble too?" Pickles grinned.

"Dick Knubbler!!"

"OK. All right," Charles started. "William. Is it Dick Knubbler or Samael?"

"He'sch the angel."

"All right. We'll probably need Raziel to translate. Maybe she can.... No, actually, can you guys take him up to Valhalla? That might be better."

"OK," Murderface agreed.

"What about my parents, dood?"

Charles sighed. "Did he kidnap 'em? Or did they agree to go because they think he's spiffy."

"Da spiffy one."

"Yeah, I was afraid of that. I don't have any contacts among the ex-Klokateers there, because it turns out they were loyal to Seth."

"Feck."

"But I might be able to figure out what's going on from some of the Dominions who work in the kitchen."

"Really?"

"Yeah. They gossip more than Cherubs. And they fucking hate Seraphs."

"What about me?" Nathan wailed.

"Uh, what was your issue again?"

"I don't have an issue. That's my issue! I need an issue."

"OK. OK. We'll find you an issue, Nathan." Charles put his head in his hands and sighed. "Ganesh grew a beard while I was away."

"Yeh. A full beard. Lame," Pickles agreed.

"Beards are awesome!" Nathan insisted.

"Dudes," Skwisgaar interjected. "No one ams looks good with a fulls beard but my dads."

"Schanta Clausch!"

"I don't sleep with Santa Claus," Charles grumbled.

"You ams if you wants a good presents," Skwisgaar snickered.

"STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM SANTA CLAUS!" Nathan warned Skwisgaar.

"Dood! Mebbe yoo can get him t' shave it into a goatee."

"Oh Christ not a goatee."

"Den Ganoshes ams be's da goatee guy,"

"Oh, yeh," Pickes mused.

"I'm going to GROW A BEARD!" Nathan declared.

"All right, Nathan," Charles told him. "You know what you could do?" Nathan shook his head. "You could grow it for a while, and then shave it off for charity."

"Whoa!" said Nathan, already feeling his chin for stubble. "That sounds AWESOME. Uhhhh, though, what kinda charity dude?"

"I dunno. Some shit we can deduct from the taxes."

"That's what I'm gonna do this month! I'm gonna GROW A BEARD!"

"That's good, Nathan."

As the remainder of the band wandered out, Pickles lingered behind.

"Uh, Toki?" Charles asked him. Pickles rolled his eyes and motioned Charles to follow.

They opened the door to Toki's room. It was somewhat changed. The walls had been painted black. Every single furnishing, from the bedspread to the curtains to the his desk and chair, were now black. Instead of toys there were now skulls and some specimens in jars.

"He's kinda into da Got' t'ing," Pickles explained.

"Well, that's, uh.... Yeah."

The next morning Ganesh looked into Sariel's washroom mirror, inspecting his handiwork.

“Oh THANK CHRIST!” He turned to see Sariel. “That FUCKING BEARD!”

“I liked the beard,” mused Ganesh, turning back towards the mirror and rubbing his now smooth face. He frowned. Sariel had somehow gotten between him and the sink, but then they were kissing, so Ganesh found he wasn’t quite so annoyed.

And then they were really kissing. “Don’t you need to get to work?” Ganesh muttered, fingers entwined in Sariel's hair.

“Fuck me on the sink,” Sariel whispered to him.

“What? It’ll be uncomfortable.”

“Fuck me. On. The sink,” Sariel repeated, hopping onto the counter.

Ganesh didn’t need to be asked a third time.

They finished, Sariel laying back, gasping, one of his legs still slung over Ganesh’s shoulder. “You know,” he panted, “This is kind of uncomfortable.”

“I told you! Your washroom here is far too small."

“I'll get it remodeled. It's still not as annoying as the beard.”

“I LIKED the beard!”

“Wotan looks good with a beard. Nobody else looks good with a beard.”

“Santa Claus.”

“I am not fucking Santa Claus.”

“Not even on the sink?”

“Especially not on the fucking sink!” said Sariel, painfully hopping down. He felt his backside to see if it really did now have a faucet-shaped dent. "Look. Like I said last night. I wanna spend more nights down here.

"OK."

"Yeah. Ganesh, is that, OK, like you're OK with it, or OK, as in you don't wanna argue."

"Sariel. I will burn down my residence and come live here full time as a refugee!"

"Well, no need for dramatics."

"My home is nearly in at state already. I may just run up to fetch my back issues of Vogue."

"That's more like it."

"And your closet space is truly pathetic! I could not even use it for my handkerchiefs!"

"Yeah, yeah, you and your fucking couture. OK, here's what we'll do. I'll have 'em knock out this wall, you can use the entire room next door as your fucking closet."

Ganesh's eyes lit up. "An entire room?" he gasped.

"Why are you acting happier about this than me being back in the fucking universe."

"How big is it?"

"Why do men always ask me that question? Here, c'mon I'll show you." Sariel grabbed a bathrobe and headed out the door.

Ganesh soon followed, pulling on his pants while chattering into his cell phone (another benefit of having two sets of arms at ones disposal. "Raziel wants to know if is is where you store the dead bodies," he asked.

"WHY are you on the phone with Raziel?"

"I'm going to use the services of her closet man."

"Closet man? There is no such fucking thing as a closet man." Sariel opened the door to the next room.

Ganesh gawped. "I don't believe it."

It was absolutely huge. Bigger even than Sariel's office.

There were grand windows, with breathtaking view. And outside, a tremendous deck.

"I don't understand," Ganesh stated. "You have an amazing space like this next door, yet you live in that tiny room?"

"Long story," Sariel shrugged.

Ganesh prowled around for a bit, intermittently pausing to take a photo with his cell phone, evidently to send it up to a nosy Raziel. "OK, here's what we'll do...." he said at length. But he noticed Sariel was still standing stubbornly just outside the door.

Ganesh grinned and pocketed his phone. He strode over to Sariel, swept him over one shoulder, and, to much squawking, deposited him squarely on his angelic ass in the middle of the floor.

"All right. Over the threshold. Now, as I was saying, what we will do, we will simply move you into this room, and use your old one next door as the closet."

Sariel scowled and crossed his arms, remaining stubbornly on the floor.

"Dooooood!"

"Whoa!"

And like that, Nathan and Pickles were rudely surveying the room as well, opening drawers and cupboards.

"What's dis?" Pickles asked, sampling a bit of residue from one surface.

"That, my friend, is dust," Ganesh answered.

"Wut kinda dust?"

"Just dirt, I'm certain. It's blown in from elsewhere. I doubt you'll gain a new psychedelic experience."

"Dood. Remember where we live."

Ganesh had started to say something, but instead raised his eyebrow. Both he and Pickles sampled a finger full of the dust.

"Guys! The bar here is TOTALLY STOCKED!"

Ganesh and Pickles hastened over. "We need ice! And olives!" Ganesh called. Sariel was amazed. He couldn't recall having seen Pickles run before.

Ganesh, who hadn't yet bothered to re-don a shirt, was soon wielding a cocktail shaker. It is quite useful to have access to four arms for bar-tending purposes.

"Isn't this starting a little early, even for you?" Sariel asked as the potential of Ganesh-shaken martinis had finally urged him up from pouting irritably on the floor. He tentatively slid into a seat at the bar next to Nathan, Pickles, Skwisgaar, and a couple of Skwisgaar's lovely ladies. He wasn't exactly certain when the latter had shown up.

"What time is it in dat udder yooniverse?" Pickles asked. As Pickles was rather keen on metaphysics.

"Uh. I dunno," Sariel admitted, grabbing a martini with three olives.

"Dat ams da good things abouts da alternates universes! It ams always cocktail hours somewheres!" Skwisgaar grinned.

Somewhere, in that other universe, another Wotan was planning the life of another Sariel.

“We will teach you to hunt! And to ride! And how to use a sword! Won’t we? Won’t we?” He ticked the chubby tummy and received a giggle, which he interpreted as assent.

He handed the infant back to Ganesh. “He’s a splendid boy! We’ll start him riding as soon as his pin feathers have grown out!”

Ganesh smiled and cuddled the tiny angel. His angel. “Thank you, Uncle,” he said.

Wotan turned. There was another angel in his presence, scowling up at him. She barely came up to mid-chest, but looked like she could knock him over.

“And what are you supposed to be?” he smiled down.

“Me?” she told him, small hands on small hips. “I’m the best thing that ever happened to you!” she said, wagging a small finger.

Wotan grinned. This had definite possibilities.

And, still elsewhere, a brand new band was rehearsing.

"Tit Clock is going to CHANGE YOUR LIFE!"

"Feck yoo!"

"Wanna run through my schong schycle about the Schivil War?"

"Naw. Ams fucks dat."

"C'mon you guys, can't we get along?"

A young guitarist was nearly blown offstage by the enthusiastic chorus of 'No's.'