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Moonlight and Mayhem
A Very Odd Romance
© 2010 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
patches_namaki
Eleven
September 5, 1934:
“Is that your formal uniform? You look stupid in red.”
“Shut up, Mary.”
“Don’t tell me to shut up, you little runt,” Max’s older sister growled. Nevertheless, she and her husband Chuck left the small office and took their seats out in the hall. Military policefurs in the military’s maroon and dark green formal uniforms stood vigil at the doors and at strategic points along the walls.
They could have been ushers, were it not for the two-foot-long riot batons in their paws.
The Catalina fox closed the door and looked at himself in a mirror. His stock collar was hanging open, the two gold anchors slightly askew. The holster on his Sam Bruin belt hung empty; Sam had insisted on it.
No sense in inviting trouble.
Max blinked as the door opened and Sam walked into the room. “Sam! You’re not supposed to be here.”
“I thought we were getting married.”
“We are, my love – but you and I aren’t supposed to see each other until the actual wedding. It’s tradition, you know.”
The badgeress gave the tod-fox a tolerant smile as she brushed a speck of lint from the gold lieutenant’s bar on one shoulder of his uniform. She was dressed in a similar formal uniform, but with the two bars of a Commander. “Since when did you care about tradition, Max?”
“It’s supposed to be bad luck, Sam.”
“Then give me a kiss for luck, Lover Boy, and let’s do this thing.” She leaned in to kiss him. He murred as she kissed him and she straightened up. “Now, do up your collar like a good kit.” She pulled a filmy lace veil from a pocket and fixed it to her headfur, letting it drape down over her muzzle. “How do I look?”
“Silly.”
“Silly, Max?”
“Silly, Samantha my sweet. White lace does not look good with maroon wool.”
She blew him a kiss and left the room, and Max took one last look at himself in a mirror before heading into the hall.
***
The doors swung open, exactly on cue, and the bride advanced down the aisle arm-in-arm with her father, both in formal uniform. Captain Rain Sky winked at his wife as he escorted his daughter down to the waiting groom and the officiating pastor. When they came to a stop before the short beaver in the dark suit, Sam accepted a kiss from her father, who then took a seat.
The rest of the hall was filled with uniformed furs and those members of Max’s family who could be counted on to not cause a riot. His cousin Lucy, dressed in band box-clean gray with a broad black stripe, was seated at the back of the hall. The pawcuff connecting her to the prison matron escorting her clinked as she dabbed at her eyes.
His mother had frowned and growled at Sam as she walked past her.
Max had watched her approach with a manic, albeit somewhat glassy, look in his eyes.
Pastor Wanamaker raised his paws and intoned a blessing, then said, “Dear Friends, we are gathered together today to witness the marriage of Max and Samantha. If there is anyone here who knows any cause why these two should not be married, let them speak now – “
“Anyone does oughta get shot,” someone shouted, and the audience chuckled.
“Get on with it, before she changes her mind!” another called out.
The beaver slapped his tail against his legs and turned to Max. “Do you, Max – “
“Say all of it!” Mrs. Vreeland snapped.
Max started grinding his teeth as the pastor took a breath. “Do you, Maximilian Percy Vreeland – “ He broke off as Sam started to snicker. The audience snickered as well, but all eyes were on her.
The snicker turned into a chuckle.
The chuckle turned into a full-throated laugh.
The laughter continued until the badger was doubled over, and she finally sank to her knees, laughing for well over a minute until she was snorting through her nose for breath and clutching her sides as she hyperventilated.
The audience laughed as well, and Max’s brush bottled out as his ears laid back. As Sam finally caught her breath he growled, “That’s it. The wedding’s off!” He turned to walk away.
The best man, a member of the Army Union, tried to bar his path and instead went down hard, gasping as he gripped his crotch.
Sam’s paw closed on his tail. “Oh, like hell you don’t, Max,” she said sternly, hauling him back to her and catching him up in her arms. “You went to all this trouble, and you WON'T wreck the best day of my life. You made it this far – you go through with it.”
He struggled, but she turned him around to face her.
“Because I do love you, you lunatic.”
She kissed him, hard, then picked him up and threw him over one shoulder. He started to struggle again, but quieted as she swatted him on his rear. Sam then glared at the beaver as Max’s brush whisked over her chest.
“Well? GET ON WITH IT!”
Wanamaker jumped an easy six inches at her shout. “Um, er, as I was saying, do you, Maximilian – “
“Yes!” Max yelled from behind Sam’s back.
“And do you, Samantha Beatrice Rain Sky, take – “
“Would I be standing here if I didn’t?”
“Er, no, I suppose not. Then, er, with both of you accepting each other, and no one objecting – “
Sam half-turned to glare at the audience, who meekly kept silence. Most were grinning widely, though.
There was one lone, loud raspberry blown from the back of the room.
“ – by the power vested in me by the Synod of the Anarchcracy, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
“MWAH!”
Sam jumped an inch and slammed her palm into Max’s rear, causing him to yip as the crowd roared with laughter. “OW!”
“C’mon, Max.”
“Where we going, Sam?”
“Honeymoon time, Max.”
“Am I invited?”
With her mate still draped over her shoulder, Sam tore off her veil and let it fall to the floor, then turned and carried Max out to the cheers and laughter of the assembled onlookers.
"What do YOU think?"
Max grinned and waved to the congregation as Sam marched through the double doors into the sunlight.
"I think this may be the beginning of a bee-YOOTIFUL friendship...!"
end
<NEXT>
<FIRST>
<PREVIOUS>
A Very Odd Romance
© 2010 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
patches_namakiEleven
September 5, 1934:
“Is that your formal uniform? You look stupid in red.”
“Shut up, Mary.”
“Don’t tell me to shut up, you little runt,” Max’s older sister growled. Nevertheless, she and her husband Chuck left the small office and took their seats out in the hall. Military policefurs in the military’s maroon and dark green formal uniforms stood vigil at the doors and at strategic points along the walls.
They could have been ushers, were it not for the two-foot-long riot batons in their paws.
The Catalina fox closed the door and looked at himself in a mirror. His stock collar was hanging open, the two gold anchors slightly askew. The holster on his Sam Bruin belt hung empty; Sam had insisted on it.
No sense in inviting trouble.
Max blinked as the door opened and Sam walked into the room. “Sam! You’re not supposed to be here.”
“I thought we were getting married.”
“We are, my love – but you and I aren’t supposed to see each other until the actual wedding. It’s tradition, you know.”
The badgeress gave the tod-fox a tolerant smile as she brushed a speck of lint from the gold lieutenant’s bar on one shoulder of his uniform. She was dressed in a similar formal uniform, but with the two bars of a Commander. “Since when did you care about tradition, Max?”
“It’s supposed to be bad luck, Sam.”
“Then give me a kiss for luck, Lover Boy, and let’s do this thing.” She leaned in to kiss him. He murred as she kissed him and she straightened up. “Now, do up your collar like a good kit.” She pulled a filmy lace veil from a pocket and fixed it to her headfur, letting it drape down over her muzzle. “How do I look?”
“Silly.”
“Silly, Max?”
“Silly, Samantha my sweet. White lace does not look good with maroon wool.”
She blew him a kiss and left the room, and Max took one last look at himself in a mirror before heading into the hall.
***
The doors swung open, exactly on cue, and the bride advanced down the aisle arm-in-arm with her father, both in formal uniform. Captain Rain Sky winked at his wife as he escorted his daughter down to the waiting groom and the officiating pastor. When they came to a stop before the short beaver in the dark suit, Sam accepted a kiss from her father, who then took a seat.
The rest of the hall was filled with uniformed furs and those members of Max’s family who could be counted on to not cause a riot. His cousin Lucy, dressed in band box-clean gray with a broad black stripe, was seated at the back of the hall. The pawcuff connecting her to the prison matron escorting her clinked as she dabbed at her eyes.
His mother had frowned and growled at Sam as she walked past her.
Max had watched her approach with a manic, albeit somewhat glassy, look in his eyes.
Pastor Wanamaker raised his paws and intoned a blessing, then said, “Dear Friends, we are gathered together today to witness the marriage of Max and Samantha. If there is anyone here who knows any cause why these two should not be married, let them speak now – “
“Anyone does oughta get shot,” someone shouted, and the audience chuckled.
“Get on with it, before she changes her mind!” another called out.
The beaver slapped his tail against his legs and turned to Max. “Do you, Max – “
“Say all of it!” Mrs. Vreeland snapped.
Max started grinding his teeth as the pastor took a breath. “Do you, Maximilian Percy Vreeland – “ He broke off as Sam started to snicker. The audience snickered as well, but all eyes were on her.
The snicker turned into a chuckle.
The chuckle turned into a full-throated laugh.
The laughter continued until the badger was doubled over, and she finally sank to her knees, laughing for well over a minute until she was snorting through her nose for breath and clutching her sides as she hyperventilated.
The audience laughed as well, and Max’s brush bottled out as his ears laid back. As Sam finally caught her breath he growled, “That’s it. The wedding’s off!” He turned to walk away.
The best man, a member of the Army Union, tried to bar his path and instead went down hard, gasping as he gripped his crotch.
Sam’s paw closed on his tail. “Oh, like hell you don’t, Max,” she said sternly, hauling him back to her and catching him up in her arms. “You went to all this trouble, and you WON'T wreck the best day of my life. You made it this far – you go through with it.”
He struggled, but she turned him around to face her.
“Because I do love you, you lunatic.”
She kissed him, hard, then picked him up and threw him over one shoulder. He started to struggle again, but quieted as she swatted him on his rear. Sam then glared at the beaver as Max’s brush whisked over her chest.
“Well? GET ON WITH IT!”
Wanamaker jumped an easy six inches at her shout. “Um, er, as I was saying, do you, Maximilian – “
“Yes!” Max yelled from behind Sam’s back.
“And do you, Samantha Beatrice Rain Sky, take – “
“Would I be standing here if I didn’t?”
“Er, no, I suppose not. Then, er, with both of you accepting each other, and no one objecting – “
Sam half-turned to glare at the audience, who meekly kept silence. Most were grinning widely, though.
There was one lone, loud raspberry blown from the back of the room.
“ – by the power vested in me by the Synod of the Anarchcracy, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
“MWAH!”
Sam jumped an inch and slammed her palm into Max’s rear, causing him to yip as the crowd roared with laughter. “OW!”
“C’mon, Max.”
“Where we going, Sam?”
“Honeymoon time, Max.”
“Am I invited?”
With her mate still draped over her shoulder, Sam tore off her veil and let it fall to the floor, then turned and carried Max out to the cheers and laughter of the assembled onlookers.
"What do YOU think?"
Max grinned and waved to the congregation as Sam marched through the double doors into the sunlight.
"I think this may be the beginning of a bee-YOOTIFUL friendship...!"
end
<NEXT>
<FIRST>
<PREVIOUS>
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Badger
Size 87 x 120px
File Size 56.5 kB
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