This is Altahalib-12. Here, the OPEC nations are superpowers.
Throughout Dallas, church bells ring. Someone's about to get married. (And no, this isn't the intro of a Frank Capra movie, just to be clear.)
As the hours pass, many black Cadillacs park in the church lots...as well as a lot of lots that surround the church's. The black Caddy is, more or less, the family car of the Barnes family. (The Ewings, by contrast, mostly drive white ones.) Hence, few, if any, white Caddies will be parking in these lots, on this fine Friday.
There are photographers here. They're here for both the press, and the Barneses. With luck, the Barneses will get plenty of opportunities to wave some of these photos in the Ewings' faces. Hell, one night, they might even toilet paper the main Ewing estate...by having some of the wedding photos converted into tapestries.
Alas, it's too bad they wouldn't use actual toilet paper. It'd be a great chance to flip the bird at all of Texas's left-wing politicians...
Many, besides Barneses, attend the wedding. Oil company personnel from Iran, the Arab states, Zulia, Nueva Esparta, Táchira, Mérida, and Anzoátegui, among others, also attend this wedding...primarily because their own respective oil companies financed some of it. Officials from Austin also attend...as do a few high-ranking civil servants. Clergies from the Lutheran, Episcopalian, Mennonite, and Mormon Churches attend...although few of them are happy to be here codepending the greed of so many rich and influential people. High-ranking employees of Texas's Big Four are also in attendance: Bank of Texas, Wells Houston, Citiherd, and JPBass Latimer.
A Punjab family is in attendance, as well. They're Sikh. Their patriarch has a beard...and the beards of his sons are coming along. A few Hindu families are in attendance, too. Most of them are Hindi, by origin...although at least one of them is Tripura Bengali. A sole Sinhalese Buddhist is also in attendance.
A sole shaman, from the Wichita nation, is in attendance, too. To the wedding, he wears his ceremonial bearskin cloak. (And yes, this cloak comes complete with what was once the late New Mexican Rockies black bear's head...which, when he has to, the shaman wears around his head, like the hood of a coat.) Once, a long time ago, his family lived in the wild lands that've since become Dallas County. As a shaman, he used to do weddings for his people. He's even married some of the Barneses to his nation...as half-ashamed of that as some bystanding Barneses still are. For what it's worth, though, a lot of bystanding Wichita men are just as half-ashamed...for opposite-yet-equal reasons. Otherwise, this shaman's got some Wichita kin in Oklahoma who'd surely enjoy his presence more than a lot of these other mostly-white wedding attendants would.
Back at home, the shaman has a few sons. One of them is an alumnus of Texas State Technical College, West Texas. (The Canyon campus, specifically.) Since then, the shaman's family has secured a few connections in Canyon...and in Randall County in general. One of them is a Kiowa taxidermist/tailor, who once helped the shaman make this bear cloak.
Again, no Ewings are in attendance. And if they are, they're disguised as grieving widows. That, of course, is a bit out-of-context; this is a wedding, not a funeral. Even so, if the grieving widow guise doesn't fool anyone...there's always the Ewing man dressed as a Muslim woman. Alas, most Ewings are proud and pompous in ways that make the Barneses look humble; hence, most Ewing men, at least, wouldn't dare humble themselves that low. I'm pretty sure that J.R., for sure, would've rather committed suicide than impersonate a Muslim woman. And to think that his time was before the Twin Towers... But then, it was also during the "Shah" crisis, so...still makes sense.
Speaking of what, in this world, Iran has a shah again. And speaking of whom, some Iranian royals are also attending the wedding. And one of them just so happens to be none other than his Shiite Majesty himself.
He still gets irritated, when someone dares use the phrase "his shitty majesty" behind his back. Lucky for him, though, Tehran is just a simple flight away; when this wedding is over, all he's got to do is go home, sit on his throne, and meditate until someone bothers him. As the Shah, someone's bound to. (And when I say "throne," I don't necessarily mean the one in his palace's courtroom...)
As white as a lot of these natives are, the groom, it just so turns out, is not white. He's an Arab oil sheikh. He's the Sheikh bin al Shamgar. As you might expect, he comes from a long patriline of Arab noblemen and oil magnates.
It seems unlikely, that a racist culture such as Texas conservatives would permit the high-profile wedding of a white woman to a non-white man. But since the Arab race has clearly gotten to where they can now compete with white races in the oil industry, at least, Texas conservatives apparently will, for once, allow an interracial marriage. Arabs and white aren't that much different, anyway. After all, Shem and Japheth were brothers. And Ishmael was the son of Abraham, as well as the big brother of Isaac, and the uncle of Jacob... Hmm; that might've made him a monkey's uncle, actually... (Don't tell the Sheikh that, though...)
Most of the wedding's flowers are blue. Only a few are bluebonnets. A lot of them, of course, are blue roses. Every other one is a yellow rose. (Johnny Lee/Lane Brody reference half-intended...)
The bridesmaids are all lined up in a rank, near the bride's side of the altar. They all wear blue...except for the maid of honor, who wears yellow. The maid of honor is one of the Iranian Barneses. (She prefers the surname Sasyagara...or, alternatively, "Sassy"-yagara.)
Near the altar, a black chick plays a harp. She plays her own instrumental rendition of Alicia Keys's "Fallin'." It's very inspirational. Most are rather sad, that this performance will soon get doused by the wedding march...especially when they consider who'll be playing the wedding march...and with what.
The Ewings are all probably at home, placing bets, against each other, on for how long Ms. Barnes and the Sheikh will be married before they get divorced. Some of them, even, bet over WHY they'll get divorced. Some of them even bet that the groom will, one day, use his bigotry against whitefolk as an excuse to brutally sacrifice his wife at mosque, one Friday. (Sadly, the Ewings have a few KKK men in their patriline...as well as a few more KKK in-laws...outlaws, and otherwise...)
Down the hall, the bride's dressing room is locked...and has been for over an hour. Every now and then, a maid of honor shows up, knocks, and tries to hasten the bride. She always responds by flipping an old-fashioned Barnes bird, and shouting an equally old-fashioned Barnes "fuck you." Some of them remind her that she's in a church. The bride retaliates by telling them to fuck off.
You'd think that as much as the Barneses hate Christians, they'd be more qualified to be richer from the wealth of oil and cattle than any white-clad Ewing. Alas, it's too bad that it takes business contacts to get rich. And one would be surprised how many businessmen frown down upon people who swear and cuss as if it was the new English. Most of these hypocrites aren't even Christian themselves...let alone raised by Christian mothers.
Meet the bride. Her name is Domenica "Domina" Barnes. She's about to become Domina Shamgar. Then again, she'll probably remain a Barnes long after she takes this Arab man's ring...as well as the controlling interest of his gold.
Ms. Barnes's hair is raven. Today, she wears it in a bob...as she has for many months leading up to now. It suits her...as does a certain bustier-clad rack that would make the famously redheaded Christina Hendricks bleed green. (Hendricks doesn't have green eyes, does she?) And today, it sports a very special Pantene-washed sheen. It has to. As an Arabian bride, she has many standards to meet today. Although she must confess that it wasn't too hard, agreeing to have a wedding on a Friday.
She almost got married in a mosque...in Abu Dhabi, at that. Alas, her groom decided that today's mosques aren't ready for interracial marriages...between Muslims and infidels, specifically. Maybe one day, such mosques will become more open to the idea of interracial marriages... It just won't happen in this century.
She stands before a mirror, and applies her makeup. She sure likes her mascara. A lot of Barnes women do. That's a big thing that makes them different from the Ewing women. Most Ewing women, by contrast, like to use a lot of creamy-white lotions. As much as Ms. Barnes would almost love to recite the specific body parts on which she's heard that Ewing women like to apply lotions to...she won't.
Ms. Barnes is a HUGE fan of how this bustier brings out the girth in her boobs. It's not too tight, either. She can actually breathe in it. And to think that it's not even the latest thing in Paris's higher-quality clothing stores...or Victoria's Secret, even... But then, when it comes to country music, the Barnes women have always rather revered Miranda Lambert and Gretchen Wilson. The Ewings, by contrast, would rather invest in Carrie Underwood and Kellie Pickler. If you asked Ms. Barnes, though, the Ewing women ought to go to operas more often.
For her groom, she wears heeled sandals. She's already polished her nails. Her feet look perfect. Or rather, a lot of guys at this wedding would think so. On one foot, she's got a tattoo of a pair of fish. On her other one, she's got a tattoo of a pair of wolves.
A lot of women in Ms. Barnes's patriline have married Wichita men...fresh from the wild. (The Wichita nation; not just the city in Kansas of the same name.) Some, even, have been fresh from Oklahoma. They'd often get disowned this way...and it's probably because of this that the Ewings, as a corporate family, are often ahead of the Barneses. They've lost a lot of their women to the likes of certain Wichita bad boys.
For Ms. Barnes, an admirer arrives. Or rather, he's more of an admiree. And he is NO Wichita. Even so, Ms. Barnes thinks that his mother might be a Jew...but she's not sure.
Right over the nail of one of her big toes, a portal of chlorophyll magic opens. From it, a boy falls. Via an unexpected stint in the Chlorophyll Dimension, he's now a thousandth his normal size. He has a hard landing on her big nail.
Meet Elisha Ewing. He's a runt of the collective Ewing litter. And by the looks of it, the Chlorophyll Dimension has given him a makeover. Or rather, it's stripped him down...to a mere pair of Bohemian chic-colored briefs. He's just coming of age. As a normal-sized boy, he has a lot of female admirers...as well as a few male ones. Now, though, he'd be lucky if half of them could see him now...and much less lucky, he has no doubt, if they could.
Above him, the portal vanishes. He's trapped here. It takes him a moment, to absorb his new surroundings. One he has, he hardens for this Barnes giantess...who's about to marry a foreign man who knows more about oil and wealth than he yet does.
All his life, he's been taught to avoid the Barnes family. So, for now, he stays very still, and hopes that his latest mount doesn't notice him...or feel him. He's very small, after all. There's a very fat chance that this heathen Barnes woman won't... Also, she's a Barnes; hence, she's a bad girl. She likes her men tall, and with money. And right now, tall is one thing Elisha is not. Hell, he wasn't much taller when he was normal-sized.
Outside, someone hammers on the door...rushing the bride once more. Ms. Barnes slows...but doesn't leave just yet. She turns, and lumbers over to a chair.
On her nail, the little Ewing earwig starts to get dizzy. Somehow, though, he manages to maintain his balance atop her nail.
"Please don't sit," he whispers to himself...and to her too, although he knows she can't hear him. "Please don't sit, please don't sit, please don't..."
Ms. Barnes turns...and sits. Little Elisha almost dreads what happens next. And yet, at the same time, he anticipates it, too...
As of now, he's on the big nail of her right foot. (Her right foot, as Elisha will soon come to learn, is controlled by her left brain...which is hardly her best asset.) On one foot, one of the fish in her fish tattoo is a shark. On the other, one of the wolves in her wolf tattoo howls; the other runs. Either way, to tiny Elisha, they all look terrifying. Now that he's so small, her foot tattoos are SO much bigger; a thousand times bigger, to be more accurate.
Behind him, half of her nail seems to lean away. He turns around...and his heart nearly stops beating when he realizes that the nail of Ms. Barnes's index finger has been extended to him, like a very big polished ramp. It's huge. Elisha's like a bug to it.
And just as he both dreads and anticipates...he looks up, and sees that Ms. Barnes has seen him. Shit; his folks aren't going to be happy about this at all...if he ever sees them again. He doubts he will. As young as he is, Ms. Barnes has always had a lustful eye for him.
She orders him to ascend her nail. At his size, she sounds very powerful. At his size, she IS very powerful.
So, he does as she orders him to. He gets dizzy, and falls over, as she brings him up closer to her chest. He's as hard as ever.
With one finger, she pulls down his briefs. With two, she holds him upside down...by his hardened cock. He's facing away from her face. As she holds him in this position, she holds his rear to her huge lips, affectionately. She keeps him in this position, with his butt to her lips, for a very long time.
Yep; Ms. Barnes still, very much, has a lustful eye for little Elisha. She also doesn't seem too paranoid, that her most lustful wish is coming true moments before she marries another man.
Outside, someone hammers on the door. Ms. Barnes pulls Elisha away from her lips, and drops him on her other index nail. He's now a burgundy mess, because of her lipstick.
"We'll have sex on my honeymoon," she tells him. "But for now, your new Domina has some VERY important business...with the Arab oil industry."
With that, she stuffs him between her huge boobs. They're rather comfy...although Elisha's a bit disturbed that Ms. Barnes plans to cheat on her husband on their honeymoon...as well as, possibly, for at least seven years after that...
"Don't come out," she orders him, while adjusting her bustier one last time, "unless I order you to."
He doesn't dare disobey her. She has the power, after all, to crush him like an actual earwig.
Back in the chapel, the harpist finally plucks her last string, stands, and takes her leave. For the march, the wedding crowd stands.
For it, a Goth girl sits at a synthesizer. Her hair is deep black, and bobbed. Most of what she wears is black...and that includes a Goth-themed LBD. Also, she's a Barnes. Or rather, she's a Bach-Barnes.
With black polished nails, she performs the wedding march. It's to the tune of Katie Armiger's "Better in a Black Dress."
At this, a lot of ultra-conservatives roll their eyes. They, of course, miss the old-fashioned wedding march. Some, even, would consider THIS particular song an abomination. It doesn't even matter to most of them that Katie Armiger was a country music singer, when she first started out...if she still isn't.
The Mennonite preacher isn't at all amused by Ms. Bach-Barnes's performance. He, of course, misses the old-fashioned pipe organ. It's as if he doesn't even know that Johann Bach himself once dreamed of synthesizers, back in his day. (They hadn't been invented yet...but then, that's why he had to dream about them.)
For most of them, though, this is a good time to put on their high-tech, custom-programmed headphones. This is helpful, to those who aren't enjoying the wedding march. But more importantly, the headphones will translate the priest's words, for those who can't claim Texas English as their first language. The Arabs sure can't.
As she gets to the first chorus of the song, Ms. Barnes appears in the archway. Here, she pauses, and looks both left and right, acknowledging both sides of the chapel.
Where that is, the Barneses are almost in awe of her. As for the groom's side... Well, let's just say they're still warming up to her.
At the altar, the groom stands...anticipating her approach. He stands highly and mightily, like a warrior who's just won a land war with the Hebrews. He seems dreading, though, of any white American fast ones she might try to pull, both before and after she ascends the altar.
Now, Ms. Barnes proceeds. The march still plays. As she makes her way, she passes many wide eyes...both male and female. All the males, no doubt, are saying goodbye to their last chance to court her, before she takes someone else's ring...inconvenient, though, it would be for the groom. All the females, by contrast, are half-relieved that she's getting married...as much as they don't expect her, in particular, to STAY married, once the ring is on her finger.
In her chest, Elisha is still wedged. He's a press-ganged gigolo...that the bride plans to smuggle to her honeymoon...and into the marriage home of her husband. She's going to cheat on her husband, with him, for quite some time. She might never stop. And yet, only he knows of the bride's deep dark post-nuptial plans.
For now, though, Elisha can't get over how fluffy Ms. Barnes's boobs are. Funny; back when his folks taught him to avoid the Barneses, they never told him how hospitable their women's boobs could be...
For the march, Sassy Bach-Barnes only performs the first verse, the first chorus, the bridge, and the final chorus. By the time the bride ascends the altar and takes her place next to the groom, she's halfway through the final chorus...and hurting the ears of everyone who didn't adapt to the disco revolution, no doubt.
Baroque music was a lot like disco, back in the day... But then, Bach himself would've actually preferred disco...if only the technology of his time could've sustained it.
With iron-forged Gothic passion, Sassy finishes strong. She clings to every note...but tries not to cause a scene. Alas, as many sentiments as she's used to repressing...that can be VERY hard for her to do, at times... Nonetheless, this time, she manages to keep it short...and within the expectations of Goth-lovers...if not the expectations of all.
With a heavy heart, and VERY ignorant of how much heavier the bride's boobs are, now that she's harboring her future boy-whore...Father Alvis, the Mennonite reverend, begins the ceremony. He tries not to take too long. He can't honestly say that he's too honored to be hosting this particular wedding. He still misses the days when Muslims weren't allowed to get married in Mennonite churches, unless they'd converted to the Mennonite faith first. He also misses the days where only pure women could become Mennonites...let alone Christians. If anyone asked him, this couple needs a peace justice's services, not a priest's. Alas, the groom is a Muslim; he doesn't believe in peace justices. And in a way, neither do the Barneses.
In general, the Barneses are more centrist than the Ewings... Alas, very few have become socialists. None have become communists...yet. Some of their men, though, are more likely to become communists than the worst of the Ewing men. And, of course, as far as most Barneses are concerned, the only good Ewing man is one who doesn't exist.
Hence, that just makes it a good thing that Ms. Barnes has "confiscated" Elisha while he's still young and pliant. If left in the Ewings' care, after all, he'll surely become just as bad as a lot of Ewing men who she already hates. Although personally, she can't confess that she's liked every Barnes man she's met to date.
From between his new Domina's humongous boobs, Elisha can see the groom. Naturally, he's MUCH bigger than he is. He doesn't wear a military uniform...but he might as well. He half-expected him to wear a turban...and he would, if not for the church's long-time "no headgear" rule. In many ways, the Sheikh doesn't look like a foreign man. It's hard for little Elisha to believe that his mother's race (i.e. the Jews) and the Sheikh's race are perennial enemies. But then, Elisha certainly can't say he's not used to it. The Barneses and Ewings, after all, seem to hate each other just as often, and as much, as the Muslims and Jews do.
Elisha can see, though, that he's got nothing that this Sheikh does. On one hand, Elisha thinks that Ms. Barnes is wise, for wanting to marry him. On the other, he's never quite understood her lustful obsession with him. He's an Ewing...alas, at his age, the only money he'd have access to would be inherited from his older relatives. But then, this Sheikh doesn't exactly strike Elisha as the kind of billionaire who built his own company from scratch. So at least they're equals in THAT respect...for whatever that's worth...or NOT worth, rather...
But of course, this Arab sheikh is only taller, older, wiser, more political, more skilled, more of a veteran, more of a Muslim, has a longer resume, can drive, can smoke, is less white...and more within legal and sociological limits, marrying Ms. Barnes. Elisha is none of those things. Plus, Elisha doesn't expect the Sheikh to take it very well, if he ever finds out that his white wife plans to cheat on him with one of her family's enemies. On the other hand...polygamy does run in a lot of Muslim patrilines... And in contrast to most Mormon patrilines, it practically rockets...
Elisha watches, as the wedding rings are applied. He watches hopelessly, as Ms. Barnes puts her ring on the Sheikh's hand. He watches a lot more fearfully, as the Sheikh puts his ring on Ms. Barnes's left one. His ring, that's on her hand, is gold with an emerald. The emerald is rose-shaped. It's also got a few crescent moons engraved in its band.
The right brain controls the left hand. Hence, that can only mean that whatever Ms. Barnes is up to, she's doing it intentionally. Elisha...just can't quite figure out why she'd risk adultery...other than the fact that adultery isn't as much of a big deal in the bigger world as it still is in most conservative societies...
At long last, Father Alvis gets to the long-anticipated vows. He asks the Sheikh first. He responds, affirmatively, in Arabic.
Ms. Barnes's boobs get bigger within her bustier, as Father Alvis asks her the same question. Hence, Elisha starts to feel crowded. He even starts to suffocate.
His Domina comes to his rescue, by first adjusting her bustier, and then her hair. As soon as she can feel little Elisha relaxing in her boobs, she adjusts her air, and responds affirmatively to Father Alvis's epic question.
On the bride's side of the chapel, some of the Barnes women seem confused...whereas the men seem amused...as sick as it is, that some men find their female relatives attractive. For now, though, the Barnes women dismiss their daughter's/sister's/mother's overtly sexual behavior. The Barnes family, after all, has a tendency to produce more Gothic female specimens than the Ewing one does... And most of them would be lying, if they said they expect marriage to COMPLETELY transform Ms. Barnes...who, by the way, is about to become Mrs. Shamgar...to some extent.
"By the power vested in me," Father Alvis finally concludes, "by the Mennonite Churches...and with the state of Texas's endorsement...I now pronounce this couple...Mr. and Mrs. Obadiah bin al Shamgar."
With that, a shower of rose petals fall from the ceiling, and shower the newlywed bride and groom. Sassy sits back at the synthesizer, and as a final salute, plays an instrumental chorus for the Civil Wars' "Barton Hollow." Funny; the conservative crowd seem to be just as much a critic of this as they were of "Better in a Black Dress" as a wedding march...
Otherwise, most of the wedding's patrons merely stand and cheer...both because of simple joy, and because they don't know the bride and groom as well as they think they do. But of course, if anyone TRULY knows a rich person that well...they're in a lot more trouble than they realize.
A rose petal, that falls from the ceiling, lands between Ms. Barnes's boobs, near Elisha. It, too, humiliates him...by being a thousand times bigger than what he's used to. And he's confused, when his Domina flicks the petal away with her huge finger, and tosses the bouquet across the chapel. (One of the groom's female relatives catches it.)
At the reception, there are hookahs. The groom's relatives share them...as they do their shisha. Some of them had to go all the way to Houston to get shisha to speak of. It's a bit contra-social, to smoke in church these days... But it's all halal to the groom's family, so for today only, this church goes by with what happens at the hookah tables.
Because of the Islamic taboo on liquor, there's no wedding champagne. There is, however, a coffee pot. And in lieu of popping the cork...a horseshoe, instead, is dropped into the pot. (If it stands up straight, the coffee's ready.) And in this case, it does. There's much rejoicing...and soon after, there's much drinking...and needing to take a leak, not too soon afterwards.
Chess sets have been set up, at some of the tables. Some are glass; others are made of stone. Crowds assemble, as oil Arabs and Barneses play one another, in chess. In most of the games, the Barnes competitor plays the black pieces. (This, of course, is a rivalry tradition, between the Ewings and Barneses; whenever their men play chess, the Ewing plays the white pieces, and the Barneses play the black ones. And for the Ewings, this is perfectly fine; for white ALWAYS moves first, in a chess game.) This time, though, there are no Ewings...other than the one stuffed down deep in the bride's boobs. But since they don't know about him, and because he'd be too little to play this game, even if he wasn't...the groom's kin will just have to do.
On the downside, all of this Arabian coffee makes everyone need to urinate more often than the restrooms have dummies. On the upside, though, it makes most of the guests more willing to dance. Whenever the DJ doesn't play Arabian house music, he plays red dirt music. At least once, the DJ plays Ben Smith's "Shuck N' Jive." It seems to please the Muslim guests, that the phrase "Friday night" is in the song's chorus... Many of them, though, still aren't sure about how they feel about the song's bridge's lyrics: "you gotta shake what your maker made ya, baby..."
Eventually, though, the bride and groom MUST perform the wedding dance. So, they do. For this, the DJ plays, for them, a song from Cliff Barnes's time...or, rather, from the zenith of his time: Alannah Myles's "Black Velvet."
For this, the church lights are dimmed. The dance floor is cleared. If everyone thought the wedding march was too Goth...they're going to hate the wedding dance.
Bride and groom embrace one another, and dance. Elisha is still sandwiched between the bride's boobs. The groom still doesn't know. For her and her new boy-whore's sake, she'd better hope it stays that way. Even more so, though, she'd better hope the wedding guests don't find out. And she'd also better hope that her new husband's imam doesn't find out. Cheating is against the Koran, too.
To all three parties involved, the song seems endless. At least Elisha can rest in security. Or rather, MATERIAL security, for sure. Truth be told, he's just as panicked about this as his Domina should be...if she isn't. With her, though, it's hard to tell. And hence, Elisha's almost sure he's starting to understand his own family's bias against the Barneses... With luck, though, he'll survive his Domina's wrath...if it even is wrath. Sure doesn't feel like it... Without it, he'll end up as a squashed bug under the Sheikh's shoe, and with only an imprisoned Barnes Domina as his legacy. And that, he's certain, is the best it can go, if they get caught.
Elisha knows that his new Domina and her new husband are going to leave the country, once their nuptial business in Texas is settled...as well as a few nameless corporate errands, both for the Barnes fortune and the Shamgar one...assuming, that is, that the Shamgar fortune isn't synonymous with the state's. Elisha would hate to think that it is. Capitalism, of course, has always preferred laissez-faire...
Ms. Barnes, no doubt, will soon swap this wedding gown for a little black dress. In it, no doubt, she will soon shame little Elisha even more than she already has. He's even sure she'll get into the BDSM, with him. At this stage, it's hard for Elisha to tell if she's doing this to score a big one against her rivals, the Ewings...or because she might actually love him like a potential mate...if not a potential husband. As insecure as Elisha feels about gambling on the latter...he'd love to.