The big day

I’m the type of guy that likes to have things planned out, not just for how I expect things to go, but for every possible contingency. Regardless of how a situation enfolds, I will always be prepared. That’s why I’ve already fully planned out my wedding.

The idea for this really started after I attended the bachelor party of a good friend. It was nothing fancy; we just went out to a local bar to quietly have a few beers. I’m not a huge fan of beer and tend to go for the hard liquor. As Mohandas Ghandi famously stated, “Don’t drink a lot of Jaeger. It will pretty much mess you up.” At least I think it was him, I could be mistaken.

As I was driven home, my friends started to ask me questions every so often to confirm my consciousness. Seeing as how they were going to a wedding the next day they appropriately asked, “Fool, what do you want your wedding to be like?” I gave a muffled groan, raised to a sitting position in the back of the vehicle, clearly stated “Ninjas,” and then passed out.

My wedding shall proceed as follows: The wedding will take place in a church that has a large glass window in the ceiling near the altar. I will be wearing a tuxedo with tails covered by a frilled leather jacket. A gold rimmed monocle will complete the ensemble. I will not be wearing a top hat, that’s just tacky.

The wedding will begin as planned, but fifteen to twenty minutes will pass with me waiting at the altar with not sign of the groom. As whispers among the wedding guests transforms into unmasked chatter, the sound of a helicopter will grow near. The window above will unexpectedly shatter and in will repel my soon-to-be in a commando outfit. he will unzip the uniform and reveal his tux as well as a bouquet. “Sorry honey, my hair appointment ran late,” he will say accompanied by a wink. The ceremony will then begin properly as the priest suddenly appears in a puff of purple smoke.

In the back of the wedding hall will sit a three tiered wedding cake. Most often, this tradition is reserved for the reception, but sometimes I like to be slightly unconventional. Six ceramic pillars will hold up each consecutive level of the delicious baked good. Everyone will assume these pillars are merely an aesthetic choice. They will be wrong.

Model rocket engines will be housed inside each pillar. Each layer of the pastry will be on a timer to coincide with a significant happening of the wedding, for example the completion of the priest’s sermon. With simultaneous ignition of the six engines, each level will blast off accordingly, reaching heights of well over twenty feet…or however high the ceiling is. If financial holdings permit, there will be parachute recovery. Guests are welcome to whatever bits of frosting they can scavenge, as long as they are quiet about it. It’s a wedding, for god-sakes!

This cake situation may seem a little elaborate, but I just want people to be clear on where we are in the schedule. This whole thing may run a little long, and I’m not even Catholic.

As the pastor is about to conclude the wedding with the vows, three guests will leap from their seats and simultaneously shout, “I object!” They then reveal that they are actually ninjas…the evil kind! Of course, these ninjas will be highly paid actors, but no one including my future spouse will know this.

I will grab a nearby brass candle holder, do a back flip off the wall, and engage in battle with the ninjas. This is also where more pyrotechnics come into play. Through the carefully choreographed fifteen minute battle, you will learn through deftly divulged plot points that each ninja is actually an ex-boyfriend of the groom. The unique way in which my fiancée had dumped them will determine their individual combat styles.

Since my guy is radiant with quality and class, the ninjas will be especially vicious when it comes to winning his honor. The audience will learn that the ninjas were unable to deal will the emotional pain of rejection, and had sadly turned to violence and vengeance. Special attention will be paid to enumerate their transgressions against my companion to provide proper justification for the severe beating they are receiving.

If for some reason the groom has had fewer than three previous boyfriends, then we will attribute the ninja’s appearance and past history to the groom’s previously unknown retrograde amnesia. Looking at the big picture, this segment of the wedding will resemble a soap opera episode with significantly more explosions.

After the last ninja has fallen I will rejoin my husband near the altar, look him in the eyes deeply and proclaim, “I do.” As we walk from the wedding hall a large platform will lower from the broken window carrying the band ZZ Top. As they play “Gimme All Your Lovin” I will take off my leather jacket and put it around my newly gotten hubby.

Waiting for us in the parking lot will be a dune buggy, including roll cage. Many would question why exactly I would choose a dune buggy. To this I would retort, “Have you ever driven a car?” The answer would most likely be yes. My second question would be, “Have you ever driven a dune buggy?” Our stylish transportation would be fitted with a sign reading, “Just married, paid for in ninja blood.” That outta get some honks!

The reception will be held shortly after. The centerpieces on all of the tables will be blue lightsabers if the guests are people I like and red lightsabers if they are from the grooms’s family. There also will be one of two types of masks distributed at each person’s seat. These party favors will be printed on the highest quality paper. The masks will be detailed replicas of myself and groom’s faces. Each mask will have the eyes and mouth cut out for practicality purposes. The wearing of these masks is to be considered mandatory fun.

It is my feelings that there should be no dancing of any kind at my wedding. It’s not something I really have ever cared for. No, that’s a lie. It’s more like something I can’t remember not hating. However, I realize that I am now in a partnership. If my husband has a strong preference to do so, I am prepared to make compromise and agree to at least a single dance.

The lights will go dark, “our” song will start to play, and we will proceed to the dance floor with my him leading me. At this time a trapdoor in the floor will open and I will stealthily slide into it. A man of roughly equal height and stature will replace me for the next five minutes. With any luck my husband will be as unobservant as I am.

As the night progresses and the time for guest departure draws near, I will raise a crystal goblet and give a romantic toast to my him. I will take special care to verbalize my reasoning for entering into this relationship, and promise to make it an exciting, fulfilling, and ninja-free experience. After the toast is concluded, he will produce a jet pack from under the table, give me a kiss, and fly through the ceiling (hopefully avoiding injury). I will sit down calmly and continue my dinner as if nothing had happened. After some time I will quietly look inwards on myself, realizing that it has indeed been a very special day.

The first man to agree to all of this will be my soul mate.