[ WP ] You live in a world where your permanent profession is entirely decided by what you wanted to be when you were four years old . You and your friend , Cowboy Knight , begin to discuss the disturbing number of mail order brides .

“ I couldn ’ t come to anyone else with this. ” 
 
 Cowboy Knight stood with his hands wide on the desk, looking down and averting my gaze. His black, wide brimmed cowboy hat cast a shadow on his face from the nearby sconces. His lower jaw tightened and loosened as he often did when he was in thought. Normally I couldn ’ t wait for him to finish thinking about the best way to flank a roving gang of Gunslinger Firemen or Lead Guitarist raiding parties… but this time the subject was more personal. 
 
 I had to do this. And I really didn ’ t want to do it alone. 
 
 Cowboy Knight looked up and smirked, his shining steel plate armour clinked as he moved. “ Fuck it. I ’ m in. ” 
 
 *** 
 
 “ Get a fucking grip! Who the fuck do you think you ’ re talking to? You better show some goddamned respect. You think you stand a chance, buddy? You ’ re a fucking dentist. I don ’ t know what kind of sack of shit wants to be a dentist but you ’ re it, and guess what? Your dumb ass friend? No one will give a shit that he ’ s dead. If they even believe you. If I hear from you again, bucko, it ’ ll be the last time you ever get to stand to take a piss. ” Salem swiped the touchscreen and dropped the phone in a single motion letting it clatter loudly on a desk cluttered with cocaine, golden necklaces, and cigarette butts. 
 
 He sat up and took his boots off the desk and decided that ending an angry call with a fucking touchscreen feels like absolute dogshit and so picked it up and tossed it hard behind him, disintegrating into a fine powder of what used to be plastic, metal, and glass. 
 
 His head panged its usual wake up calls to sobriety and he massaged his forehead, long flocks of black hair falling around his oversized sunglasses. 
 
 The door to the far room shrieked open like twisted tangled metal. A tiny panicky girl in a gold Leia bikini stood in the doorway like a deer. One of the new ones. “ Uh, Mr. Salem, sir? ” 
 
 He didn ’ t look up. “ What. The fuck. Is it? ” 
 
 “ Mr. High President Overlord left a message for you. It was about the security. He says they lost contact with President Jason— ” and suddenly the words tuned away. Every time someone mentioned goddamn George it sent a pulse of battery acid through his veins. Salem only chose President Overlord Super Rockstar. How could he have known someone else chose *High* President Overlord? Salem sighed heavily. 
 
 Salem stood up and grabbed the underside of the desk, *Fuck this! And fuck fucking George! *, and threw it into the ceiling. He looked back down to the wench and pointed a finger, “ Listen, you tell… ” 
 
 She was gone. No girl. 
 
 “ Salem. You ’ re a real peace of work, you know that? ” 
 
 Salem knew that voice. The other door creaked open revealing a silver armored figure in a black hat. A quickshooter in his left hand and a longsword in his right. “ Cowboy Knight. I can ’ t believe you ’ d show your face here again. Don ’ t you remember what happened last time you tried this? I couldn ’ t believe Shaman Medic actually managed to put you back together again. ” 
 
 “ Except he ’ s not alone. ” 
 
 *Oh shit*. Salem knew that voice too. 
 
 Salem snapped his fingers and a bright red 24-string Frankenstrat covered in black and white lines appeared in his right hand by the neck. 
 
 Samurai Astronaut turned the corner. His dark red Japanese armor, translucent force field Hannya mask, and beamsword katana weren ’ t the flashiest of weapons… but Salem had heard about his space adventures. 
 
 *Fuck these guys*. 
 
 An explosion of marble tile and fragments of wooden doors blasted in all directions as Salem slammed the body of the guitar down into the floor, ringing out a clear guitar “ BRRRRNNGG ”. But Knight and Samurai dodged, somewhere behind him. 
 
 Salem turned quickly parrying a slash from Cowboy Knight who struck in a giant leaping slash. “ That the best you got?! ” 
 
 Samurai Astronaut ’ s footsteps were like the quiet patter of raindrops. All Salem saw at the last second was Samurai Astronaut ’ s coiled body holding his katana in its sheath and about to draw. A millisecond later and Salem was in the air while a bright blue energy blade cut through the marble wall like it was paper. 
 
 Salem ’ s feet touched down onto the ceiling. He stood against gravity, holding his guitar underneath his arm and lit a cigarette. “ Looks like you guys are serious. ” 
 
 “ This injustice has to stop. ” Knight declared somewhere down below. 
 
 “ Did you ever think of how many girls you enslaved? ” Samurai was probably pointing at him. 
 
 Salem laughed. “ And look at you two. It took you this long. No one fucking noticed. Everyone was busy being goddamn Karate Woodcutters ‘ n ’ Boxing Fighter Pilots that no one really paid attention to what happened to the girls. Ever since fucking George became High President anyway. Every punk got his dream… and what dream would that be, if there wasn ’ t a girl forced to live it? ” Salem picked up his guitar. 
 
 Astronaut Samurai and Cowboy Knight appeared on the ceiling. Salem fired a kick into Knight ’ s gut, crushing armour and sending him skidding backwards. He parried the next strike from Astronaut, his guitar purring loudly and sparking against the energy blade. The next exchange of blows would have been impossible for anyone to follow, luckily for Salem, the cocktail of drugs he was on—namely, all of them—gave him the mental fortitude to keep pace with Astronaut ’ s Space-Japan training. He heard the cocking of Knight ’ s revolver and not a second too late zipped down to the ground and cut the six bullets out of the air with his guitar. 
 
 “ You guys can try all day if you want. You ’ ll never beat me. ” 
 
 “ That ’ s where you ’ re wrong! ” 
 
 Salem ’ s guitar blared as he swung a wide arc around, clashing with both Knight and Astronaut. Astronaut was good, but Knight was slow. Always was. He ’ d have to take him out first, then victory was guaranteed. Salem moved in as Knight fell back, trying to raise his sword to defend himself. Only, it ’ d be too slow. 
 
 Salem pulled the ripcord on his guitar as he swung and it moved quicker than colour right into Knight ’ s— 
 
 & nbsp; 
 
 When the giant wall made of windows in Salem ’ s chamber exploded, Knight wasn ’ t exactly sure what happened. Really, he thought he was dead. It wouldn ’ t have been the first time, but if Astronaut Samurai got hurt it would ’ ve been the worst. 
 
 But that didn ’ t happen. 
 
 Instead, glass rained down into the room and Salem ’ s body fell to the ground about 8-10 lbs lighter. Whatever ’ s the average weight of a head. Salem ’ s head was probably on the lighter side what with all the devil ’ s drink. 
 
 A completely ripped and garbled neck stump gave no indication as to what could completely destroy a head, leaving nothing but chunks of flesh all strewn out from the point of whatever hit him. 
 
 The sound of crunching glass instantly turned Knight ’ s gaze up from the corpse to the broken window-wall. There stood the prettiest girl he had ever seen with long hair like sunlight in a golden Leia bikini. In her right hand was a 4.5 ft Barrett M82 0.50 caliber sniper rifle. In her left hand was a book. 
 
 “ Well. I think we owe you one. ” Astronaut said first. “ I ’ m Astronaut Samurai. ” 
 
 Knight stared. 
 
 “ …and this is my partner, Cowboy. Knight. ” 
 
 Knight felt his partner ’ s gaze and snapped awake. “ Yes. Hi. ” After a moment. “ Who are you? ” 
 
 She brushed a strand of hair from her face. “ I ’ m Librarian Assassin. You ’ re going after High President Overlord George? ” 
 
 Astronaut nodded. “ We won ’ t let him imprison anymore girls. No more mail order brides. We should n't ever have let him control our future. ” 
 
 She walked over to Salem ’ s corpse and stripped off his black leather coat. “ Then I ’ m coming with you. ” 
 
 *** 
 
 High President Overlord George sat in the Whitehouse, smoking a cigar. A light bleeped up on his presidential telephone, which would n't have been too strange except he had never seen that light before. 
 
 There was a label next to it. ‘ SECURITY ’. 
 
 Hmm. 
 
 High President Overlord George picked up the phone and pressed the light. The phone clicked on… but then the line went dead. No tone. 
 
 *Weird*. 
 
 The lights flickered and High President Overlord George felt the quietest change in air pressure. 
 
 Did something…?
