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This is a question Weddings Part II

Attending a wedding is like being handed a licence to act like a twat. Oh how I laughed when I sobered up and realised I'd nicked most of the plates and cutlery from the posh hotel lunch and those vague memories of stealthily exiting like a cat-burglar had in fact involved falling out of the hotel, knives and forks clattering onto the steps.

Tell us more of your wedding stories.

(, Mon 3 Nov 2014, 18:10)
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Annie's Song
My long time friend felt obliged to ask me to be his best man so I agreed.His fiancée Annie was quite hot but spoiled and a bit of a control freak.She used to check his car mileage before and after any journey he took without her,she 'took care' of their joint finances,she inspected his underwear after every lads' night out for DNA evidence of lady juice etc etc. (Oh how I wish control freakery could be a topic for Question of the Fortnight).
He wasn't allowed to have a stag do, just a quiet drink with her and his best man on the night before the wedding. So it was Dave,me and Annie too.We found a charming country pub high on the misty hills above Todmorden and somewhere between pint six and pint seven I helpfully observed that to liven up the evening someone could piss in the illuminated ornamental fountain.Dave dutifully obliged after being offered the incentive of a bag of nuts.As he aired his own bag of nuts to add an extra dimension to the water feature the goldfish giggled, not at the size of his dick but at the size of the bouncer standing behind him. In one swoosh Dave was lifted mid air, in mid stream,and thrown forcefully out through the heavy front door. Annie and I finished our drinks and his drink and his nuts and then rushed out to join him. He was not happy and neither were we when we saw him staggering towards the large picture window with a breeze block raised above his head.We fled in terror towards my car in the car park and had almost reached it when we heard the crash and the tinkling glass. Dave joined us at the car as I fumbled with the keys but I was too slow.We could hear the angry voices of men... lots of them.
"Under the car!" I hissed.
Now there wasn't a lot of room under a Renault Dauphine (yeah,I know) but we squeezed under and waited with bated breath. It was cold,it was dark and for five, ten... fifteen minutes we watched the boots and shoes of fuming country nutters pacing the car park within metres of our hiding place.Half an hour passed before we emerged,now strangely sober.The plan was to free wheel down the slope out of the car park before starting the engine but as the car began edging slowly forward there was a grunted "Oi!" ...and the chase was on. We got a head start but the headlights in my rear view mirror were looking bigger by the second. Speeding down the twisting,narrow hill I rounded a bend,switched off the lights and crunched onto the gravel of someone's private drive.Two car loads screeched past. I waited for a while before toddling back to my place with the happy couple crouched out of sight in the floor well behind me.
With morning upon us,Annie went home to prepare for her big day but within two hours she was back. Mascara streaked her pale cheeks as she explained she'd had a call from Sergeant Wilson at the local nick.Witnesses had seen her at the scene of the fracas and the police needed to speak with the man responsible for the criminal damage.I suggested that rather than risk being arrested at the alter, we should present ourselves immediately at the nick to make a statement and then go ahead with the wedding as planned. Dave was not keen on the idea at all and was visibly shaking as we climbed the stone steps to the police station. On the top step I stood in front of him and grabbed his arms.
"Dave, there is no Sergeant Wilson.It was me.I made the call to Annie.It was a joke!"
The look of confusion slowly turned to a look of realisation and as I looked into his watery eyes I could sense his relief; I could then sense his forehead making contact with the bridge of my nose. It hurt but not quite as much as the back of my skull when it hit the stone steps.
Three hours later we were standing together at the front of the church as some guy played with his organ and then the organist piped up with John Denver's 'Annie's Song'. We turned to see the beautiful bride making her grand entrance. She glanced down the aisle to see her beloved standing next to a black eyed retard wearing a blood stained plaster on the bridge of his nose and a white bandage wrapped around his head.
I was politely asked not to appear on any of the wedding photos.
(, Tue 4 Nov 2014, 13:03, 4 replies)
Annie sounds alright.
You and Dave are clearly fucked in the head though.
(, Tue 4 Nov 2014, 13:18, closed)
Is she still married to the twat?
(, Wed 5 Nov 2014, 15:45, closed)
Please stay away from Todmorden
I do not want to meet you on a night out.
(, Tue 4 Nov 2014, 14:18, closed)

Not even for a bag of nuts? To be fair though,this happened many years ago. I am now mature and sensible.
(, Tue 4 Nov 2014, 15:05, closed)
like a night out in Tod' is a real thing.

(, Tue 4 Nov 2014, 15:07, closed)
Had a good one at an Electro Swing thing
the other week
(, Tue 4 Nov 2014, 15:28, closed)
sounds filthy. when is the next one?

(, Tue 4 Nov 2014, 21:17, closed)
About 2 weeks

(, Wed 5 Nov 2014, 11:44, closed)
(Oh how I wish control freakery could be a topic for Question of the Fortnight).
It was. Where were you?
(, Wed 5 Nov 2014, 1:13, closed)
I was being sarcastic, ironic, moronic, colonic etc.

(, Wed 5 Nov 2014, 13:46, closed)
Ah, sorry. I was being literal and a bit-of-a-tit-eral.

(, Thu 6 Nov 2014, 13:19, closed)

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