Here's chapter 10 of Kingdom Idiots. Wow. Chapter 10. That's ten more chapters than I usually do. Typically, I have a hard time actually finishing stories. My other stories have been left for the dead, really. It's kind of sad but when you just don't feel like writing it anymore, well, you just don't.

XXXXXXXXX

Bob held the Soul Release forms to his nose, scrutinizing them in detail. "What's this part about the stripper? Is that for if I get so drunk I cheat on my wife with one?"

"No, no." Xemnas waved his hands. "That would be section A-2-mini .5. That one's for if you get so drunk that you mistake your wife for a stripper."

Bob snorted. "Not bloody likely. I love the woman but she ain't exactly a hunk of cake that I would pay money for."

Xemnas smiled. "You're going to have to sign on that, too."

"On what?" Bob asked.

"On insulting your wife, you clout." Dr. Dumb interrupted. "If she does anything terrible to you because of that…well. It isn't his fault." He turned to Xemnas. "Good call on that one, by the way. Vengeful wives are a hassle. Fred barely protected me from my last girlfriend."

"Oh, yes." Bob said dryly. "I'm sure women just crawl all over you."

"They do," Dr. Dumb insisted. "They just usually use nails first. I got love marks all up and down my back." The heartless pointed to his back. It was a futile gesture, seeing as how heartless do not really scar and their skin is black with more than a little shadow, which probably causes problems in the "love mark" department.

"Let me guess, I can't see it because they used invisible nail polish, right?" Bob said sarcastically.

"Hey, don't you try that sarcasm on me or I'll have Fred here beat you…no, scratch that. Fred doesn't beat. I'll actually have Fred accidentally, unintentionally, not-my-bloody-fault squish you while trying to touch the sun."

"Trying to touch the sun?" Bob asked incredulously.

"Hey, don't question me. I can't help it if Fred believes everything I say." Dumwitten shrugged. "His little brain might fry before he gets to the sun, though." He smiled with the sentence.

"What was that, boss?" Fred asked.

"You weren't listening and you didn't ask that question," Dr. Dumb replied.

"I wasn't? Hmmm…my individual self must be getting in the way again." Fred knocked his head. "Maybe, I can hit it out."

"Yeah, you're really going to have to work on that whole individuality thing, Fred. It just isn't working for you," Dumwitten agreed.

"I'll try, boss!" The large body heartless said enthusiastically.

"Good. Now go act like a rock or something." The heartless ushered him away.

"I'll be the best, most conformed, unthinking rock ever, Boss!" The large body ambled away, widened his eyes and fell to the ground, on his side, rock still.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm sure it wouldn't be too hard for you," The heartless said dismissively.

Bob examined this paper. "Hey," he exclaimed. "This section on the varying uses of rocks that you are not responsible for, wasn't here no two minutes ago!"

"I just had a lemonade-induced thought," Xemnas said. "I had to add it, for safety reasons."

"And, what's this section that just says the word: don't?" Bob asked in once more.

"That one's optional! You still have to pay if you sign it, though," Xemnas explained.

After a few minutes of soul giving and business talk (only on Xemnas' end, of course) Bob finished the slow, meandering task born of his highly corporate and flashy world.

He handed the forms to Xemnas. "Everything signed, except the optional one."

"Terrific!" Xemnas bubbled. "Now, here comes the important question: Do you want your beer to be a Banana or BC?"

"Huh?" Came the highly intelligent reply. Find a metaphor in it and then we'd be talking literary!

"Totally!" Xemnas bubbled again. "BCs are for losers! Bananas rox my BCs to shame! Here, I have promotional propaganda to prove it." He held up a piece of paper. There were two stick figures on it. It looked to have drawn in some sort of glittery crayon, but was inevitably the work of the company and had been trademarked as Banana Corp. One of the stick figures had glasses and a suit and was awful lonely. The other was totally rad, totally hip, and oh so totally teh cool that the coolness radiated of him and to the two lovely stick ladies in lovely stick bikinis, that hung from his stick-y arm. The first guy was a BC user. The second was a Banana user.

Dumwitten glared. "You stupid goat beard! BCs have all the games, Bananas have none! How are you cool if all you can do is surf through internet porn and work?"

"And, did I mention that Bananas get NO viruses!"

"That's because everybody feels sorry for the tiny group of over-compensating individuals that actually buy into this crap," Dumwitten explained heatedly.

"Just yesterday, my Banana talked to me!"

"Did it talk to you in a sexy, woman voice?" Dumwitten mocked. "If so, I think that's all the woman you need. You don't need those stick babes."

"Pfeh! He's a typical, bitter BC user! Switch to Banana! Even my employees love Banana! Watch this!" He grappled the cardboard cut-outs of Larxene and Axel by their cardboard heads.

"OMG! I LOVE MY BANANA! IT TEH ROX! LOOK AT ME! I'M HIP!" He affixed sunglasses onto both of the cut-outs and somehow managed to twist his voice into a shadow of theirs.

"You can't be serious…" Dr. Dumb mumbled.

"I like to use my Banana with my Icool." Xemnas smiled.

"Oh, really." The tiny heartless asked. "Tell me, what does the Icool do?"

"It does whatever you want it to do and comes in a variety of flashy colors. And, we advertise it with dancing, sexy bikini babes…rawr! I shall now demonstrate the Icool's versatility!" He dropped the Icool into a pitcher of lemonade. It floated; must've been made out of hot air. "Not only can it serve as a hip toy and ship, it can also be an educational tool for young children!"

"And, a weapon." Dumwitten grinned.

"I'm talking about children here!" Xemnas replied.

"Ever been to a nursery? Trust me, you'd understand," The heartless said.

Xemnas threw the Icool aside. "Did I mention it has great throwing/flying/invisibility mechanisms?" He drew himself over the stand eagerly. "So, what do you say? BC or Banana? Need I remind you that BC has yet to do anything innovative in years?"

"Hey!" The heartless squeaked. "That's a cheap shot! We could be innovative; we just choose to use our time more wisely!"

"Like stealing ideas!" Xemnas screamed.

"Yeah, so? You know how hard it is to train the spies? We don't have time to actually make anything new." The heartless stood firmly.

"Choose now or no SUPER tankard!" Xemnas exclaimed.

The man blinked, blank. "Ummm…how about Linux?"

They both glared at him. "Don't you ever mention that-that…MONIKER in my presence ever again," Dumwitten said darkly.

"I would sell a Linux using costumer poison." Xemnas hissed.

"Oh…" Bob was intimidated.

"Isn't what you already sell?" The tiny heartless asked.

"That's beside the point!" Xemnas screamed. "Now, join Banana!" He flashed a flashlight in Bob's eyes, the light constantly changing its neon colors. "Join it, love it, and cuddle it! The banana knows all!"

"Okay, okay, I choose Banana! I just can't take the colors…GAH!" Bob covered his eyes, cringing.

"Perfect." Xemnas smiled his victory at Dumwitten, who in turn glared his bottomless hatred.

Xemnas poured a something brown into a huge vat. The vat was labeled with a neon-colored banana wearing sunglasses.

Bob began to walk towards it.

"Wait!" Xemnas held up a hand. "You have to drink it over there!" He pointed farther down the beach. To a place. A weird place.

He looked closely. Wow. It was that place.

He could smell the alcohol from where he stood; his nostrils cringed in absolute terror.

Xemnas carried the vat over to a platform. The platform was shaped into the curious shape of a coffin.

Bob stared. "I truly hope that coffin isn't there for reasons I think it is…"

"Oh, it is." Dumwitten grinned. "It is."

"Does that include allowing me to 'handle' your funeral insurance?" Xemnas asked smoothly.

"You couldn't do that," Bob replied.

Xemnas held the Soul Release form aloft. "Oh yes I can. You already signed it all away to me."

"Oh, shit," Bob said darkly.

"You signed that away as well!" He caressed the paper, humming.

"I hope you don't mean that literally. Though, I suppose you handle shit all the time." The heartless gave a pointed look to the lemonade stand.

"I have absolutely no idea what you are implying," Xemnas replied. He held a paper up. "However, you can write it all down here so I can work on deciphering it later." He turned the paper around, revealing the words Soul Release Form. "Make sure you sign on the dotted line."

Dumwitten glared.

Bob stepped forward, breathing with reckless abandon, polluting the air with the sheer human-ness of the action.

Another step.

Another step.

Again, a step.

With a great suddenness of moment, something squeaked as it…flew by. When the minds caught up to what it was, they gawked.

"Whoo! I won the box race!" Annie Vader screamed from his flying/hovering cardboard box. He flew in circles.

"What the hell is that?" Dumwitten asked, disgusted.

"Why, it's Annie Vader! The wonder boy!" Xemnas exclaimed cheerily.

Annie gave them a salute before diving head first into the Super Tankard.

There were strange animal like noises and a slurping sound. The boy crawled out from the top of the vat, screeching wildly. "WOOT!" He screamed. "I'm going to go practice my youngling killing skills now!"

He rode off in his box.

The three walked towards the vat.

It was empty.

"Eeeh!" Xemnas screeched. "He didn't sign a Soul Release form!" Xemnas felt a fainting spell come over him and he breathed heavily against it. Then that breathing became hyperventilation.

"The damn kid drank it all!" Dumwitten stared surprised.

"I still have to pay for this, don't I?" Bob asked weakly.

"Yes," Xemnas replied. "You do."

"Oh," Bob replied. "I think there's still some left."

"Hey, boss." Fred walked over.

"Go away, Fred." Dumwitten said darkly.

"Anyway, Boss, I think I was a great rock." He smiled. "The lady rock next to me thought so. So, I decided to come on back!"

The tiny heartless gave him a glare.

Fred was oblivious to it. "What's that?" He stared at the vat. Walking for it, he whistled a tune. That tune kept rolling and rolling and rolling until he ran into the vat, spilling the little rest of the beer.

"My drunk juice!" Bob cried.

"Eh. Whatever." Dumwitten preened an antenna. "Just Fred being a dumb ass."

"I'm still getting my money," Xemnas said loftily.

"Ugh. I know." Bob rubbed his temples. "I know."

XXXXXXX

And, so ends Chapter 10. Next, episode we shall see a classic tale of the clash between good, evil and fangirls. Stay tuned.