Eviternity: Book 1 Jerry's World

Two

Jerry

Jerry Smith had no idea what was going on. One minute, he was leaning over a railing to make sure the lid to the next glitter shipment was put on straight and the next he was over the edge, falling through the air too suddenly to feel afraid.

Wasn't there something else? Was Rick there? Or had that been someone else? He couldn't remember. But he did remember falling straight into the glitter and having his weight send the whole crate tumbling onto its side, dumping him out onto the cold cement floor.

And now everyone was bowing to him and saying things about the prophesy. Jerry blinked. Did they think he was the one mentioned in the Great Prophesy? He looked down at himself, surprised to see how much of the glitter had clung to him. It almost made it look like he was glowing...

His eyes widened. He looked up and his eyes locked onto burning blue ones. His father-in-law was glaring at him furiously. What had he done this time? He didn't know. Moving on, he spotted Morty struggling through the chocking crowd. "Morty?"

Jerry reached out one hand to his son and immediately the crown parted, letting Morty run straight into his father's arms. "Hey champ! What's up? You uh... You alright?"

"Yes, I'm f-f-fine, Dad! Are y-you?"

"Yes, surprisingly." Jerry rubbed the back of his neck, sending glitter raining to the floor. "You'd think I'd be hurt, falling that far, but... Nope. I'm unscathed!"

Another ripple of murmurs went through the gathered workers and one man was shoved forward. He looked nervous, his bottle green eyes half hidden by his long blond hair. "Excuse me, um, your Lordship?"

Jerry looked around before meeting the boy's eyes. "Me?"

"Um... Yes, your majesty." He bowed at the waist, hands clasped in front of him.

"'Your Majesty'. I kinda like that! Waddaya think Morty, does it suit me?"

Morty rolled his eyes and gave hit father a gentle shove to the shoulder. "Of course not! I mean, you're Dad not his Lordship, dummy."

The crowd gasped, leaning back. Morty looked out, confused. "W-W-What?"

Jerry stood up, shedding yet more glitter. "Don't worry everyone. He's my son, it's fine." There was a collective sigh of relief as the workers were given reassurance. "So, what did you need?"

The blond seemed to have hoped to have been forgotten and jumped when 'His Majesty' motioned for him to continue. "W-Well sir, I was just, I mean we were just... Well, we were wondering what comes next?"

Jerry blinked. "Next?"

"Well... Yes." The man shuffled his feet. "Do we b-build you a palace? Clean up the streets? Get back to work? Go h-home? What do you want us to do, your majesty?"

Jerry considered it for a moment. These people seemed to think he was a god on earth. He didn't feel particularly god-ish, but if it was true then he had all of humanity at his beck and call. A grin slowly spread across his face. This was going to be fun.

-a few hours later-
Jerry was sprawled out in his makeshift throne with the nervous blond from the glitter factory beside him. The blond, whose name was Nikolai, had turned out to be quite smart once he got over his crippling anxiety.

"Your majesty, I believe that your decree against squash can be counterbalanced if we convert the current fields into fields for potatoes and grain."

"Then let's do that!" Jerry waved his hand. "Just so long as there's no squash. I hate that stuff..."

Nikolai bowed at the waist and hurried off to relay his leader's orders.

"Now for the next order of business..." Jerry muttered to himself, looking down at the government-ordered work suit he still wore. "I need some cooler clothes."

Putting his feet to the floor, Jerry got up and walked down the few stairs on the platform that his throne resided on. The throne was placed in the center of the cobblestoned plaza in the center of The Settlement, the last pocket of human existence ever since the Final War.

His worn boots clicking dully against the cobblestones, Jerry strode forward, head up, shoulders back. Whenever he passed, people bowed to him. The workers, like he used to be, looked at him with awed adoration, but the higher ups, dressed in far better clothes, seemed reluctant to bow to anyone. But Jerry wasn't worried; the workers far outnumbered the socialites, and if push came to shove, they would protect him.

He was quickly becoming used to being treated with such reverence, so when Rick suddenly came flying at him it was only Morty's quick interference that saved him from a broken nose.

"D-D-Don't do it Rick! Just c-calm down!" Morty had his legs spread to brace himself against the push of his grandfather's body as the older man fought to get to Jerry, snarling. Arms tight around Rick's waist, Morty let out a high-pitched wail as he was pushed back, boots scraping against the cobblestones.

That's when a group of about seven workers swarmed Rick and physically carried him off of Morty, slamming him to the ground and holding him there. Morty made a distressed noise and hurried to his struggling grandfather's side before awkwardly stroking Rick's hair in an attempt to calm him.

Jerry still just stood and looked on, blinking stupidly. Morty gave him a pained glance. "Oh, geez. S-Sorry dad! He just... H-He hasn't been right recently, I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it."

Jerry looked around to see that many people almost looked ready to rip his father-in-law apart right then and there. He didn't particularly like Rick, but he knew how much Morty loved him and so he couldn't just let the old man die...

With a sigh, Jerry waved the workers away. "It's alright Morty, just... Keep an eye on him, alright?"

Nodding furiously, Morty helped Rick up and led the man away, chattering nonstop. Jerry shook his head, wondering how his son could be so fond of a guy that didn't seem to care about anything.

Shaking the whole thing off, Jerry turned and kept walking, planning out a new outfit in his head.