Stretch

The last king of rubberhose animation pulled up a stool at the bar. The zoetrope lady and the claymation cowboy nodded somberly, the former putting an arm around him and the latter buying him a tall drink. The king's arm stretched out, looping around the other drinks on the bar until it grabbed his own and rubberbanded back.

"It's not the end," said the zoetrope lady. "It may feel like death, but it'll be more like dreaming in time."

"Heh, at least you got your time in the light," said the cowboy, smiling ruefully with a clumsy mouth. "Big headlines, the best the industry had to offer. All me and Zoe got was the dregs."

"Clay..." said the zoetrope lady, shifting to a new frame where a single eyebrow's raised. The cowboy shrugged and ordered a drink of his own. "Where kings fall, dukes will rise, Hosea. And when dukes fall, lords rise. As long as we are loved, we are alive, and you and I and Clay are loved."

The last king of rubberhose didn't respond to the claymation cowboy or the zoetrope lady, knocking back seven drinks in succession before walking out of the bar. The cowboy shook his head.

"He'll be alright, but damn if that ain't the sorriest sight I've ever seen." The zoetrope lady nodded.

"Poor thing. He really thought he'd reign forever."