| 9.28.2006 |
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Wedding of the Damned
The organ player got out of her car and locked the doors. You never know who might want to high-jack a VW Beetle Bus. Anywho, she waltzed into the chapel to get set up for the wedding that would be happening soon.
As she entered the chapel, a young man named Dale passed by her that almost made her faint he smelled so terribly bad. She continued walking and came upon another young man in a white sundress with giant sunflowers printed on it. He was talking to a girl in a blood-red bridesmaid dress.
“Aqui aqui, Mateo. Es no mal,” the girl said.
“Thank you, Kaplow, but I believe it is bad. Everyone will know that I didn’t shave my legs today!” Mateo said.
The organ player looked down at the man in the dress and noticed his hairy legs. She quivered slightly and continued walking.
A man rolled out in front of her on a rolling office chair and smashed into a wall.
“Whoa! The brakes aren’t working Professor BrINClHOF!” the man said referring to himself in the third person. He rubbed his eyes with his fists. What a strange group of people the organ player thought.
She walked further on and saw a group of young girls swooning over a fellow with blonde skater/surfer type hair. “Oh Lockehart!” they said. The organ player did admit to herself that he was adorable, but only from the neck down.
Finally, she gets to the doors for the room to be used for the wedding and sat down at her organ in the back of the small room. A few minutes later, Lockehart enters the room and stands at the front behind a podium. He was the priest for today’s wedding. Moments after that, the doors opened again and the chapel seats began filling up with friends and relatives that were with the bride and groom. The organ player started playing a soft tune on her organ as people entered.
Once everyone was seated, she stopped playing her soft song and started another. Dale, the best man, walked in first along with the groom, Alex. Next, a stream of blue dresses flowed in as the bridesmaids made their way down the aisle. The organ player finished her song and looked up at Lockhart.
He nodded at the organ player.
“Go ahead, Katie,” Lockehart said. Katie started to play “Here comes the bride” on her organ. The doors swung open again and Kaplow came running around the corner into the aisle. She quickly brushed a strand of hair out of her face and stopped. She took a deep breath and walked calmly down the aisle to join the other bridesmaids. Kaplow stood at the end of the bridesmaids row holding her flowers. Everyone in the audience started whispering to each other and pointing at Kaplow. Kaplow had gotten the wrong colored bridesmaid dress. Hers was blood-red instead of baby blue. Oops. Seconds later, the doors opened again and the young man in the dress, Mateo, came slowly walking down the aisle with lipstick kiss marks all on his face. He was the flower girl. He took a few steps and then dumped the entire basket of flowers on the floor. He took a few more steps and reached into the basket to get a handful of flowers but there were no more left. His jaw dropped and he collapsed on his knees sobbing like a little child. Andrew, another young man in the audience, took Mateo away from the aisle and comforted the weeping mess.
Finally the bride came out. Her name was Ashley and she was to marry this young Alex. She took her time walking down the aisle with her father both wearing a purple dress and Ashley with a giant ankle brace on. She stood in front of Alex and Lockehart began speaking.
It started to get hot in the chapel, and Dale, the young, stinky best man, began to sweat. His head started to gather a halo of flies circling him, puking and laying their nasty egg sacks on him. The poor souls in the front row had to suffer the intoxicating smell of his body odor. His long bum-like hair had gathered a birds nest and at one point during the vows the bird had to upright and leave.
“May I ask,” said Lockehart, “who has the rings?”
“I do!” Dale said, raising his hand up in the air.
The entire left section of the room moaned in pain to the putrid smell that came from under Dale’s arm and the first few rows even passed up due to lack of any oxygen reaching their poor little heads.
After the ceremony, everyone was happy to go to the reception and be able to keep their distance from Dale. Ashley and Alex sat together at the big long table up front with Alex having to sit next to Dale and Ashley being able to sit next to her bridesmaids. Kaplow clanked her knife against the side of her water glass and stood up.
“Aqui ye! Aqui ye! Yo tengo un habla! En ingles de curso! Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death. No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the house. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely and without reserve. This is no time for ceremony. The question before the house is one of awful moment to this country. For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery; and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at the truth, and fulfill the great responsibility which we hold to God and our country. Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should consider myself as guilty of treason towards my country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings.
“Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the numbers of those who, having eyes, see not, and, having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth, to know the worst, and to provide for it.
I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know what there has been in the conduct of the British ministry for the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen have been pleased to solace themselves and the House. Is it that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately received?
“Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called in to win back our love? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war and subjugation; the last arguments to which kings resort. I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its purpose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlement assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great Britain any enemy, in this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us: they can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us those chains which the British ministry have been so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves. Sir, we have done everything that could be done to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have petitioned; we have remonstrated; we have supplicated; we have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of the ministry and Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications have been disregarded; and we have been spurned, with contempt, from the foot of the throne! In vain, after these things, may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation.
“There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free--if we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for which we have been so long contending--if we mean not basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained--we must fight! I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left us! They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger? Will it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house? Shall we gather strength but irresolution and inaction? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our backs and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper use of those means which the God of nature hath placed in our power. The millions of people, armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery! Our chains are forged! Their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable--and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come.
“It is in vain, sir, to extentuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace--but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!”
Later, a young Japanese man that looked like a girl showed up. He declared himself Telemarketer Gackt and that he was there to sell shoes. Katie, the organ player, watched as Gackt tried to sell people shoes.
A little while after that, Chacha showed up selling pink paint. What the hell is with these Japanese telemarketers at this wedding? Katie thought to herself. Katie turned to her table buddies and looked at them. One was he husband, Tory Belleci. The others happened to be a man called Chicken and another that was to be known as the “Tory Dude” because he looked like Tory. She leaned over and kissed Tory.
Professor BrINClHOF rolled by in his office chair wearing a butler’s outfit.
“Is there anything I can get for you dears?” he said with a fake overly-British accent. Chicken ordered lasagna and the Tory Dude ordered some potatoes. Katie and Tory ordered some Fettuccini Alfredo.
“Alfredo! I know him!” Professor BrINClHOF said, still using his cheesy accent. Tory looked at him and furrowed his brow and looked at BrINClHOF like he was crazy, which they all knew he was crazy anyway.
Lockehart started to make his way around the giant ballroom, chatting it up with all the lay-dees. Tory had gone to the bar when Lockehart approached Katie. Lockehart was suave and smooth with his words and Katie couldn’t help but take him up on his offer to dance with him. Plus he looked really cute (from the neck down) and she liked his pants.
When she returned to her table, Tory was just coming back. Organ player Katie turned her head quickly to the kitchen door as she heard a crash and someone saying “Look Out! My brakes don’t work!” Professor BrINClHOF rolled passed their table and then had to stop suddenly and back up because he rolled too far.
“You dinner is served. Oh, and BTW, that means by-the-way, YOUR POTATOES ARE FAKE! Muwahahaha,” he said, lowering his tray down level with the table. Everyone leaned in towards BrINClHOF’s tray and looked at the food that had gotten knocked over and soaked with various types of drinks that had toppled over during his wreckless roll over.
Karaoke got going once everyone had opened up their wallets to the bar and Chacha’s Bucket-O-Pink-Paint which had been said drinkable. Gackt tried to get everyone to sing Happy Birthday to Chacha and you know what happened? Some people really did. Dale broke out his moves and his B.O. out on the dance floor as he tried the worm and the disco and other strange types of dancing. The janitor had to insert some car air fresheners into the air conditioning ducts to help eliminate the stench that lingered about afterwards. Katie had to watch as Chicken got an allergic reaction to the lasagna he ate and the Tory Dude who got food poisoning from his food.
Later, Bruno the big ugly purebred Irish bulldog gets thrown into the wedding cake by Mufasa. Josh, the hit-man hired by Professor BrINClHOF appears and takes out Mufasa. Katie, Tory, and Lockehart do some extreme freak-dancing and all the girls get jealous. Kaplow is later caught making out with Mateo and all ends well (Except for Mufasa who gets killed by the hit-man, Josh hired by Professor BrINClHOF) |
posted by Katie @ 7:35 PM  |
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