Marie did not like being single.
She knew that a lot of people enjoyed being single. They liked the alone time, they liked the flirting, the freedom.
Marie was not one of these people.
Sometimes, she did like going out with friends. She even liked that one song about being a single woman. It was liberating, and quite catchy. But more than anything else, she liked the thought of a big white reception, a large poofy dress, a string quartet, and a husband.
So when Death stated that she would be staying with Stein, she did a mental cartwheel, pumped her fist in the air, and screamed several "fuck yeah's."
Not that Stein was a model husband. Oh, no. Stein was one hundred percent, certified, grade-A batshit insane.
But she looked past the unfortunate head screw, the body stitching, the smoking, and the premature greying (which she hoped wasn't hereditary). And she looked straight to the abs.
She hoped those were hereditary.
Alas, to her dismay, Stein did not share the same womanising traits that his old partner, Spirit, did. In fact, she was sure that Stein held her in the same regard as the potted plant sitting on the windowsill. Or that used to sit on the windowsill, anyway. Marie had smashed it in a jealous rage when she saw Stein talking to it one day as part of an "experiment".
Yeah, right. She could practically see the 'come-hither" that plant was giving off. And everyone knew the household fern was the sluttiest plant in the plant kingdom.
She had prepared a list of tributes that a potential husband of hers should have, and tonight she would give Stein the third degree.
When Stein came home, he would see the awesome, romantic dinner she had planned. Then he would fall deeply in love with her, and they would run off into the sunset and have children with eyepatches and chiseled abs and psychotic tendencies.
Marie positioned herself at the head of the table, and waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
Marie began stabbing a steak knife into the table. Where was he? How dare he be late to this romantic gesture? When she saw him, she was going to rip open his-
The door creaked open. In a flash, Marie flew up and threw the knife behind her. There was a yowling noise. Evidently, she had hit Stein's cat, Mr. Fluffykins. Damn, that one was going to be hard to explain in the morning.
"Hello, honey!" she called, her voice several octaves higher.
"What did you just call me?"
"I said, hello, hubby!"
"What?"
"I said, hello, Stein!" Nice save, Marie!
"Oh, I guess I heard you wrong."
He walked into the dining room and looked at the table. "Marie, what is that?"
He was referring to the large, frosted, white cake that covered a hefty portion of the table. "Is that a wedding cake?"
"Of course not, silly!" She giggled. "It's strange how your mind immediately thought it was a wedding cake!"
Stein scrunched up his face, peering at the top. "Is that me?"
On the top of the towering cake were two figurines. The man owing the bakery was very insistent that they did not have wedding figurines that had stitches or head screws, let alone eyepatches. So Marie had bought the basic versions and doctored them up with a felt pen.
"It could be," she said coquettishly. "How about I cut you a slice?"
Stein reached out and grabbed the groom figurine from the top, bit the head off and began to chew.
"Stein, that's not edible! It's made of plastic!"
He chewed. Swallowed. Took another bite.
"I know."
Marie blinked. Moving on, then.
"Stein," she began, "where do you see yourself in ten years?"
Stein chewed contemplatively. "I think it's be really cool if I, like, chopped off maybe a leg or an arm, then replaced it with robot parts. Then I could be a half-robot guy. Awesome, right?"
It was not what Marie had in mind. All right, Marie. Just give him the benefit of the doubt, and keep going.
"You like children, right? I mean, you must if you're a teacher."
Stein had finished his figurine and had started on hers. He carefully wiped all traces of the icing, and took a bite.
"Oh, speaking of them, I did this thing the other day where I told them to fight to the death. Then I left, and when I came back it was like Lord of the Flies in there. I swear some of those kids would do anything for an A. Too bad no one killed Hiro, though. That kid is a total douche."
I don't need to have children. They'll just make me fat, Marie thought desperately. Though she secretly agreed that someone should've killed Hiro. He was a douche.
Time for the hard questions. "Stein, would you ever consider quitting smoking?"
Stein's face brightened. "Oh, that reminds me! Check this out!"
He fished a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and lit it. Taking a long drag, he blew out a cloud of smoke, which solidified into the shape of a hand giving Marie the finger.
"Cool, huh?"
Marie wanted to cry.
Desperately, she asked the last and final question,
"Stein, would you ever consider getting married?"
Stein tipped his chair back on two legs and clasped his hands behind his head. "You know, I've been considering it."
Marie's head shot up. "Really?"
"Yup, I've been thinking of settling down. I know that I don't really seem like the domesticated type, but if Spirit can do it, there's no reason why I can't. He did cheat on his wife, I guess, and she left him, but…"
Marie hadn't been this excited since Vogue declared eyepatches the "must-have accessory" for 1989.
"So Marie, what do you think? Think Azusa will go for it?"
Marie blinked.
Stein would awake three days later, with a severe concussion and dried cake in his hair. He would have no recollection of what happened.
Marie stalked out of the room. Becoming a lesbian looked pretty good at the moment.
