Anatomy Of a Wedding

Shane McMahon sprung from his bed with extra enthusiasm, rubbed his hands together with glee. Today his little sister was getting married! Without delay, he bustled into his best suit, polishing up his shoes. He felt thankful when he remembered that the bachelor party had been held in Andrew's room the night before, and his showed very little wear-and-tear. He beamed with pleasure at the way things had turned out; he only had a small headache, and his mouth only tasted a tinge like stale vomit. Even the old man curled up on the table looked pristine...
Old man?
Between the early morning hour and the hangover he was experiencing, he didn't recognize the sleeping form. Cautiously, he poked it. Pat Patterson unrolled from his tightly tucked ball, and fell with a clatter to the floor.
"PAT!" Shane cried.
"It's only 5:00." Pat Mumbled, curling into a ball on the floor.
"It's 7:00 and why didn't you use the other bed?"
Pat sat up in shock "7...Oh no, it's not 7...." He flung himself into a sitting position, groping under the bed for his shirt, "Shane, do you have an extra set of pants?"
"Why?"
"I flushed mine down the privy around 4 last night."
Shane shuddered, "Check Jerry's draw...Hey, where's Jerry?"
Pat paused. "The last thing I remember before blacking out was sending a hundred pizzas to Barbra Streisand's room!"
Shane blanched. "Oh, no, you didn't..."
Pat giggled, "Hers was the first name in your day planner. She'll be eating til the millenium!"
"Are you crazy?! She was supposed to sing 'Greensleeves' to Steph and Andrew during the reception!"
He rushed to the phone, punching out the woman's room number quickly. When he reached the Wilson Family, he knew that he had lost a huge wad of his father's money.
"The happy couple isn't going to be so happy?" Pat tried to ask jovially. He blanched slightly at the sight of Shane's face, then an idea seemed to pop into his head, "What about my hiring an impersonator?"
Shane shook his head, "No, no, that won't work. WCW is counter-programming with Englebert Humperdink performing 'To Dream the Impossible Dream' while Hulk Hogan slow-dances with Nash!"
Pat's eyes widened. "Well, what else do you do when you're competing with a wedding?"
"They could run repeats of Mayberry RFD. It's almost the same thing." Now Shane gave Pat an incredulous look.
Shane reached into his bag and shoved a book of number into Pat's hands, "Try these."
Shane commenced his search for Pat's pants, and, failing in that, he withdrew a pinstriped pair of Jerry's, which were two sizes too small.
When he looked up, Pat wore a smile of triumph, which faded the second he saw the pants. "I can't wear those! I have a tan jacket!"
"You should have thought of that before the last Boilermaker!" Shane snapped, tossing the pants in Pat's general direction. To the tune of the Ex-stooge jumping as he donned the pants, Shane began calling Jerry's name. He got no response. Pat blathered about the "hot singer" he had gotten for the party.
"Are you sure she's current? Are you sure she's a she?"
"Yes, yes.." Pat stood up and gestured to himself as he finished, "How do I look?"
"Like you were dressed by the National Association for the Colorblind."
"Har Har." Pat retorted. "Come on, we're late."
As they approached the door, the sound of a party streamer became more prevalent in the room. Shane pulled open the bathroom door, following the noise.
He felt both relieved and amused at seeing Jerry Briscoe curled up the bathtub, a noisemaker faintly "twee"-ing as he snored contentedly.
"Rise and Shine, Jer." He smirked, and promptly turned the cold water on full-blast.


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