Bride of the Butcher

By Mary Potts aka Queen of the Capes <>

Rated: G

Submitted: August, 2005

Summary: Grab some popcorn and take a seat; Superman's daughter claims another victim with her strange taste in movies. A sequel to "Now That's What I Call Art."


The first five minutes were a shot of a chair in perfect black and white. Then, the scene changed to a field where a goat was grazing. Then the camera went back to the chair. Then the goat again, and finally, back to the chair again, but this time, someone was sitting in it. The figure, a man, was tall, muscular, bearded, and wearing an elaborate bridal gown. His expression was solemn and a bit forlorn as he stood and spoke to the camera. His language was obscure, but the subtitles at the bottom of the screen helped him convey his important message.

"My hopes and my dreams are dead. I am like a salmon without fresh water, who swims, but cannot be born…"

*3 Long Hours Later*

David's eyes never left his sister as they followed the crowd out of the theater and started walking towards their house. Martha skipped along, completely oblivious to the murderous look he was trying to give her. Finally, he spoke. "I can't believe," he said slowly, "that you dragged me out here to watch *that*!"

Martha turned to her brother, mildly surprised. "But David, you said you wanted to come!"

"You said…" David pulled a hand out of his jacket pocket and pointed a finger at his older sister. "You said it was a new movie called The Bride of the Butcher. I thought it was going to be some kind of horror flick! You didn't *tell* me that it was three hours of some guy in a dress, playing a funny guitar and singing to goats!"

They reached a stop sign and turned right, crossing the street.

"David," Martha said, "I'm just trying to get you to appreciate the finer things. That movie is a great work of symbolism!"

"But nobody was butchered!"

Martha blew a stray curl out of her face as they continued down the block. "The guy's *happiness* was butchered because of his poverty, which came about because he…"

David put his hands over his ears. Martha kept talking, but her voice was muffled. He started humming 'Exploding Salt Shaker', and when he reached the fourth refrain, he took his hands away from his head.

"…Industrial Revolution also played a part, of course, but the shoes were really the main focus. So in a sense, he was both the bride *and* the butcher, but I think the point the author was trying to…"

David put his hands back over his ears and hummed the rest of the song. When he gave his attention back to his sister, she was still talking.

"…which represented the European cultural pursuits, whereas the goats represented the economy of his impoverished homeland. I must say, I was relieved that they left that one scene in. I was afraid they'd delete it for fear that we westerners would misunderstand it."

David gave his sister a funny look, which she missed. Why, oh why did he not have a blunt object to knock himself unconscious with? Sure he was invulnerable…stupid Kryptonian genes…but maybe, just maybe, if he worked up enough super strength… "Hey, Martha," he said when he finally realized that she had stopped talking, "Why didn't you drag *Lara* to see this?"

"Lara stopped coming to the movies with me after I took her to see Twelve Thirsty Clowns," Martha replied. She stuffed her hands into her pockets. "Now, whenever we *do* go to the movies, it's only when Lara gets to pick, and she almost *always* picks those stupid movies with explosions and car chases."

David decided to make it a point to go to the movies with his *other* sister from now on.

They reached the house and Martha paused before turning the doorknob.

David saw her frown. "What's wrong?"

"Something's going on," Martha said. Before David could respond, Martha opened the door and headed straight for the kitchen. Her brother followed.

In the kitchen, Martha came to a sudden stop, causing David to bump into her. He was about to protest, when he saw what made her stop. Gathered around the kitchen table were their mom and dad, and Uncle Herbert, and their mom and dad again. It took them a second or two to notice that there was also a man on the floor, tied up with a sweatshirt and one of Lara's old jumpropes, which they'd never gotten rid of. There was some masking tape over his mouth, and for some reason, he seemed to be covered in baby powder.

David looked up at the two sets of parents. "Mom?!"

The one on the left waved to him. "Over here, sweetie."

David ran to her and she put her arm around him. "What's going on?"

One of his dads laughed. "I guess this must be pretty confusing to the poor guy. So he's your son, I take it?"

"Yeah," said his other dad. "This is David."

"Is that Tempus?!" Martha shrieked, pointing at the heap of moaning baby powder on the floor.

"I'm afraid so," Uncle Herbert replied. "You children have just caught the tail end of a minor scuffle that nearly ended in tragedy." He shook his head. "I don't know what to do. The peace keepers have nearly exhausted all of their ideas on suitable disciplinary measures."

David piped up. "*I* have an idea!"

*Much Later*

Tempus fidgeted and fought to get free, but it was no use; the duct tape held him fast in place. He looked up at the screen again and moaned as the camera showed a chair, then a goat, then a chair again…

Tempus groaned as a hairy man in a wedding dress stood up and spoke to the camera.

"My Hopes and my Dreams are dead. I am like a salmon without fresh water, who swims, but cannot be born…"

"Shoot me! Kill me! Someone, *please*! I can't take anymore of this!"

Someone in the next row shushed him.

"How I wish I were like the goats," the source of Tempus' latest punishment continued, "who are born, though they do not swim. But alas, I am poor…"