The Universe's Mixer

The last thing Malcolm--otherwise known as The Mighty Monarch--remembered was falling asleep next to his pookums. People were seriously not kidding when they talked about how awesome newlywed sex was. And now that they were living apart from the henchmen, they didn't have to worry about anyone knocking on the door in the middle of the night wanting the keys to the kitchen for a glass of milk, or for him to check their dormitories for tarantulas. They'd never been the same since the little buggers had hidden themselves in the air ducts during a trip to the Amazon the year before.

One of the many reasons he could never figure out why on Earth anyone would question Dr. Girlfriend...Wife...whatever...on her femininity was that luscious body of hers. He fell asleep after watching her in the dimness for a long time, and her sensuous, curvy frame was the last thing he laid eyes on.

Before waking up in a city park. In the nude. Covered in nothing more than a bedsheet.

( WHAT THE F- )