Number Twenty-Two: Death by the Queen of England
Somehow, for no reason at all, Scott Summers received a letter in the post. The letter was all the way from England.
“What weird British person would write to me?” Scott asked himself out loud. No one answered. He turned the envelope over in his hands and opened it carefully.
“What the heck?” he asked when he’d finished reading. “Huh? They want to give me a knighthood?”
“What are you on about?” Jean asked, appearing beside him. He forgiven her for the death attempts, mainly because he was lonely and no one else wanted him. She leant over his shoulder. “Oh. They want to hit you over the head with a big stick.”
And so, later that day Scott boarded a plane heading for London. Amazingly, his flight was fairly uneventful apart from an airhostess (stewardesses, you call them, right?) throwing a cup of orange juice all over him. And he managed to get off the plane without anyone attacking him.
And so, there Scott was. Bending over so that the queen could take the sword and knight him with it. “And with this, one proclaims you Sir Scott... no, one cannot do this. DIE!!! DIE!!” she screamed, stabbing him with the knighting sword. She stabbed him in the back until he fell over, dead. And then she stabbed him again and again, and stamped on him, until the guards came and dragged her away, while she still screamed, “die evil one, die!!!” and waved the sword.
Next death
