Jude x Cardan: Cardan is Coerced into a Honeymoon

The Pretzel

Jude and Cardan stood outside a box in the late morning. Well, at least, it looked like a box to Cardan. A giant box that they could walk into; the box had glass sides, and a small opening, and there was a giant twisted thing near the top, reminding him of how he was positioned last night because of those damn yellow circles on that mat-

"For the last time, it's not a BOX! It's called a store! We're getting a snack!" shouted a voice, startling him from his external monologue.

The voice belonged to none other than (ah) his beloved, the pride, the joy of his life-

"Shut it! I'm not anyone's pride but my own!" his dear wife Jude proclaimed.

Ah yes, the wonders of marriage and love. Personally, Cardan was offended by the fact he had to walk in there. I mean, food was usually served to the High King of Eflame. On a long, luscious table. With... grapes. And cutlery.

At least some good might come out of this. He carefully approached Jude (don't want to startle these wild creatures) and he managed to get his arm around her. Jude startled, but didn't push him away. He'd gotten quite close to her; he could make out the individual eyelashes feathering against her skin. Jude looked up at him with curiosity, and perhaps a bit of skepticism, which he ignored.

"What?" Cardan urged, "if I have to go in that tiny box, I have to make the most of the space available, right?" 

"Sure," Jude scoffed. At closer sight, though, she didn't look as put off as she tried to sound. Cardan grinned. A victory, then.

The long line that extended out of the store started moving forward, and he and Jude were pulled inside. It was quite impressive. The workers were taking orders and speedily putting toppings on top of the twisted things he had seen above the store. What was it called, a...

"Pretzel," Jude supplied helpfully, again answering his supposed internal musings--Cardan must be losing his touch, or Jude could read minds.

They got to near the front of the line in quite a short time. The person behind the counter looked at them expectantly.  Jude rattled off some mortal-sounding inadequacies (supposedly, they were called an "order", but honestly, when someone gives you several options, the least they can do is let you try all of them so you can make a decision!). And lo and behold, a few minutes later, they were handed two pretzels wrapped in tissue paper.

He held out his hand, trying to hide how eager he was. What could these "snacks" possibly mean to Jude? Before he could get his hands on one, however, Jude put one in her mouth and sucked on the edges. Cardan stared at her. He was unsure of the protocol surrounding how to eat these so called pretzels, but surely they didn't involve running one's tongue along the edges of the browned bread, and slowly biting into the (see: very) smooth texture, did it...?

Before he could notice how he was staring at her, completely lost, mouth hanging, and holding up a whole line of customers, Jude blinked at him and held out the remaining pretzel.

"Hey babe, look! It's twisted just like you were last night!" she exclaimed to him, before turning around to the slightly disgruntled people. Cardan nodded to the people, ascertaining (and reliving) the horrifying experience that was a game of Twister against Jude, a person who hated to lose AND could terrifyingly bend in weird places.

"It was our honeymoon," she explained to them, as though this were an Important Piece of News. What was not Important News, however, was the glint in her eye. He knew that glint well.

A second of silence.

Then: "you get em, baby!"

Snickers and jeers filled the store through the mouths of some of the youth. The others just looked like they, frankly, just wanted to get on with their day.

As Cardan watched the expressions on some of the young faces, he slowly started to realize what actually happened on a honeymoon.

It was not, in fact, Twister.