Katelynn and Jonathan,
I just wanted to pop in and say I’m so honored to be the Best Man in your upcoming nuptials. I also wanted to let you know that I cannot promise to support a peaceful transfer of wedding vows between the two of you.
You might be wondering why I have found it necessary to update you on the status of whether I will support or obstruct your peaceful vow exchange. Well, everyone’s been asking, though I’m not sure why. I only had a raging meltdown at the one other wedding ceremony I’ve attended, and that bitch I was marrying totally asked for it (I love my wife). But, since everyone seems to be wondering, let me explain why I can’t guarantee I will not violently destroy the happiest day of your young lives.
Granted, weddings do generally occur with the supposition that they won’t be cantankerously objected to. But did you know that there is actually no codified assurance against such an interruption occurring? I mean, wedding vow exchanges are a time-honored tradition! Surely, if they were meant to be peaceful (and, dare I say it, weak) you’d think someone would pass a law about it. Or, maybe the Pope would weigh in, right?
Well, you probably should have thought of that and called up your buddy at the Vatican before you let the wedding planning you trusted me with get completely out of hand. I mean really, it’s a disgrace, Kay and Jay. You’ve left me no other choice than to consider wrecking the ceremony in protest and making everyone supremely uncomfortable. Though, remember, I might not!
Don’t get me wrong, I really love and am quite skilled at weddings. You’d struggle to find a better Best Man than the one you’ve chosen (me). I am, in fact, a medically and intellectually superior wedding guest and planner. Some have even said I am responsible for the best weddings of all time, even the ones I haven’t attended. How? It’s just what the records show (and any reports otherwise are fake)!
It is, in fact, how much I cherish and respect the institution of marriage that may or may not lead me to violently leap out of my pew and emit an ungodly multitoned bellow when the minister says to “Speak now.” I see it as my duty to not forever hold my peace when I see trouble is afoot. And trouble is certainly a stinky fungus-riddled foot in the lead up to this wedding.
Kay and Jay, my friends. You’ve surely noticed that I have been saying/tweeting/publicly screaming for months that your wedding’s flower arrangements and minister ordination are an absolute mess. You might wonder how I can say that. Did I not personally volunteer to both handle the florist and help Katelynn’s college roommate Brenda get ordained? Well, of course! I am the winner of all weddings, after all.
There’s a simple reason why the wedding logistics I’ve been tasked with are so messed up that it may be necessary for me to destroy the ceremony altogether. I am being undermined—conspired against, even—every step of the way! I have been hard at work selecting only the best, the absolute greatest of flowers. Yet, someone else (perhaps Katelynn herself? Just an idea!) has sabotaged the bouquet orders that never arrived when I did not pay for them! As to Brenda, well, I’m pretty sure Brenda’s existence itself is a hoax (have you ever met a real person named Brenda? Exactly).
Do I have proof to support these allegations? Not yet, but, in time, I know the truth will come out. Or, at least, my guttural screams of “NO, DEAR GOD NEVER, ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT, OVER MY ROTTING DEAD BODY, NO” as I empty my bowels onto the chapel floor during your vow exchange certainly will.
Or maybe not! No promises!