"Don't you remember, Immy? We got married!"

Tina said the words so casually. What the heck was even going on anymore?!

"Could you... repeat that?" asked Imrahil, his mind still failing to comprehend.

"I'm your wife!" she responded cheerfully, "remember, we went to the church, and-"

"Patrick!" shouted Imrahil. Pat had the misfortune of walking by as the conversation was going on. Imrahil needed someone, anyone, who was sane. "Patrick, why do I have a wife?"

"You got a wife?!" exclaimed Pat, raising an eyebrow. "All I got out of that party was some bad food and a headache. How did you get a wife?"

Imrahil buried his head in his hands. "Patrick, get Travian down here. I need to figure out what the heck is going-"


Imrahil took his head out of his hands just long enough to glare. "'Everyone'?! I said Travian!"

"But bro," said Pat with a smirk, "everyone should congratulate you on your day of bliss!"

"There isn't any bliss!" yelled Imrahil, "I'm not freaking married!"

"Thanks a lot." snapped Tina.

By this time most of the family had appeared at the door.

"Everyone," announced Patrick brightly, "I'd like you to meet Imrahil's new wife!"

"You got married?!" exclaimed Glosur with a grin. This quickly fell when he realized who the girl was.

Eureka looked at Tina, then at Imrahil, then back at Tina. "That's... ah... Congratulations."

"She's not my wife!" screamed Imrahil, waving his hands desperately.

"I most certainly am!" exclaimed Tina, brandishing an important-looking piece of paper. "I have the marriage license right here!"

Faenor's eyebrows made a break for his hairline. He was the closest to Tina, so he took the paper and looked over it. "Er... Imrahil, this is all legitimate."


Faenor smiled wryly. "You, sir, are a newly-wed. Mazel tov."

"I... but..."

Imrahil fainted to the floor with a dull 'thud'.

There was silence for a long while.

"So..." ventured Glosur at last, "how's the weather. Pretty nice, eh?"


That evening, Imrahil sat somberly at the dining room table, his head buried in his arms. Travian walked up behind him and clapped him on the shoulder. "How's it going, Im'?

"I wish everyone would stop saying I'm some kind of blazing idiot."

"Nobody's saying that." comforted Travian.

"Yeah," continued Dark as he walked into the room, "we're mostly just giving each other significant glances and laughing incessantly."

Imrahil sighed deeply, and looked up just enough to make eye contact. "So, where's Shade? Plotting his revenge?"

"Probably." replied Dark with a shrug, "he's been sulking in his room all afternoon."

Imrahil's eyes sharpened. "Dark, what are you eating?"

Dark's plate was piled high with all sorts of pasta. "Oh, Tina cooked dinner!" he exclaimed brightly, "I have to say, she's an excellent chief. Her Italian food is... wow. Literally the best I've ever had. You've really married above your station, Imrahil." Imrahil glared. "Hey, hey, just kidding bro."

Tina herself appeared at the doorway, wearing a pink apron and holding a large plate of mostaccioli. "You look tired, dear."

Imrahil sighed deeply. He wasn't even going to respond to that.

"Well, in any case, I made you some dinner!" exclaimed Tina with a grin. She set down the plate and looked at him expectantly. "Well," she said after a moment, "aren't you going to try any?

Imrahil looked down at the admittedly delicious-looking food, then turned back to Tina suspiciously. "This is... normal pasta?"


"It's not drugged? Or spiked? Or filled with Tabasco sauce?"

"No, of course not!" exclaimed Tina, looking offended, "why would I do a thing like that to my devoted husband?"

Without breaking eye contact, Imrahil slowly took a bite of the food. His eyes brightened. "Good gosh, Tina, this is incredible!"

The ginger beamed, leaning back on her heals. "Awww, thanks. Anyways, I have to get back to the kitchen." She leaned down and pecked Imrahil on the cheek before disappearing into the hallway.

Imrahil looked down at the pasta, then back at the hallway. Down at the pasta, then back at the hallway. He felt his cheek, as if wondering whether it had been damaged. "What the heck just happened?!"


"I don't know why you want to divorce her." said Edacnik, shaking his head. It was the next morning, and sun streamed through the windows into the kitchen. Faenor was reading his morning newspaper, Morgul was quietly munching some toast, and all seemed normal with the world. Too normal. There had been no pranks, no chaos, no wildcardness of any kind! Tina had been as kind and helpful as any family member, probably more so. It was absurd!

"Edacnik, you literally only want her to be my wife so she can cook food for the family." said Imrahil, rolling his eyes.

"Never denied it." shrugged Ed. "But seriously, she's a nice girl. I can't believe you're just up and trying to break off the marriage."

"Edacnik, I was inebriated!" exclaimed Imrahil, incredulous, "From punch that she spiked! So yes, I'm going to try and divorce her! When I marry, I'm going to settle down and do it right!"

"Suit yourself." responded Ed.

"I don't know what has you upset." said Itallie coldly, walking into the kitchen. "Just because some people ship Tinrahil-"

"A SHIP NAME?!" shrieked Imrahil, "We have a freaking SHIP NAME?!"

"Frankly, I don't support it." continued Itallie with a glare, "she's too good for you. Do you know that girl was up all last night crying in the guest room because you want to divorce her?"

"BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" yelled Imrahil in utter frustration. He chucked the box of Lucky Charms at Itallie (who easily deflected it) and stormed into the hallway. "BAAAAAAAAAAAH!"


The rest of the day progressed much like the previous evening had. Tina was kind and gracious, making food for the whole family, engaging in pleasant conversation, and generally being un-Tina-like. More and more siblings were beginning to wonder why in the world Imrahil would want to divorce such a wonderful wife.

Finally, night time had arrived. Everyone was preparing to go to bed, and the first story of the house was completely empty. Except for Tina, who was dutifully washing dishes while listening to Irish Punk music.

"Hey." said Imrahil quietly, walking into the room.

"Hey." responded Tina with a grin. "Have a nice day, dear?"

Imrahil didn't even bother to reject the term of endearment. "Yeah, it was alright. Listen, Tina..."

A towel was throne in Imrahil's face. "Hey, if you're going to talk, you could at least help me with the dishes."

"Er... right." Imrahil stood next to Tina and began drying the plates and putting them in the drainer. "Say, Tina, I've been thinking... you know... about this whole 'marriage' thing..."


"And... you know... maybe... we should stay married."

Tina gasped, her green eyes widening in delight. "Oh, Imrahil! I knew you'd say that!" She threw her arms around him. "We're going to have so much fun together!"

Imrahil smiled wryly. "Yeah, I guess we are."

Their faces drew closer together, their breath mingling. Imrahil leaned forward and-

Was stabbed in the neck.

Granted it wasn't a knife or anything, it was just a syringe that Tina plunged into his neck while he was distracted.

"I really should have seen that one coming." he muttered with a glare. His whole body began to feel like lead, as he sunk towards the floor.

"Yeah, I thought you were smarter then that. Me, actually falling in love with you? Sheesh!" declared Tina, with an almost pitying voice. "Oh, well. Don't worry, you won't die or anything. The needle had a sedative that'll knock you out for a few hours while I rob the house."

"ifdshkdfgsdf." muttered Imrahil, his lips too tired to speak. He was soon unconscious on the floor.

Tina whistled a bit of an Irish tune while she dragged his body into the pantry. She was just about to walk back out of the kitchen, when she saw Shade at the door.

"Oh, darling!" Tina exclaimed immediately, "my dearest honeybadger. How I've missed you!"

Shade smirked. "So, you've finally quit that whole 'Imrahil' thing, eh?"

"Of course! I could never stay away from you for too long."

She threw her arms around Shade while plunging another needle into his neck.

"Bae..." muttered Shade, with a look of total betrayal. Tina shrugged and dragged his unconscious body into the Pantry beside Imrahil's.

"Wildcard!" she cheered, pumping her fist victoriously.

She was just about to leave the kitchen when another person appeared at the door. It was Faenor in a beige smoking jacket and brown slippers.

"Oh, Faenor!" exclaimed Tina, brushing a stray hair from her face, "you look so incredibly handsome! I think-"



The neighbors heard nothing but shattering glass as a beautiful red-headed girl was tossed out the kitchen window.


Faenor clapped his hands together. "That'll show the devil."

Then he calmly retrieved his tea from the cupboard and went back to bed.

All-in-all, an average start to the New Year.

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