"Thanks for coming in.
I'll get right to the point," Reverend Hasley said. He
was the reverend of a special sect of religion called Toloniscegy
(pronounced 'tow-lon-is-kegie'), and as such was not dressed
in the typical priest's garb, but a sharp business suit. Judging
from it and the rings adorning his hands, his Church was doing
just fine for a non-profit entity.
Reverend Hasley was fifty-seven,
but you couldn't tell that from the extensive work he'd had
done on his face. He looked to be in his mid forties, with
only his graying hair being any indication of his true age.
"I, we, our Church take marriage very, very seriously.
I've known the two of you for over a year now, and I have
no doubt that you both deeply love each other."
Francis and Michelle were
holding each other's hand and facing him from across the abyss
that was his oak desk.
Francis was thirty-two, and
his fiancée was 30. They were an attractive couple,
and Michelle was in love with Francis.
And he loved her toohe
really didbut there was something missing. Something
he chose not to think about, especially at moments like this.
Looking in her deep green eyes, he could see nothing but love
and adoration. She was so in love with him that it bordered
Michelle was 5'4", in
excellent shape, and had long dark hair that complemented
her olive skin. Whenever he looked into her eyes, he knew
he couldn't leave her; he knew he had to give her exactly
what she wanted.
And what Michelle wanted more
than anything else was to be married; she'd made that clear
from their very first date. That sounded warning bells in
Francis's head, but there was something so sad in her eyes,
something that said that without a doubt if she was dropped
once more, she'd shatter into a million irreparable pieces,
and he didn't want to be held responsible for that.
So now here they were, a year
after their first date, with the Reverend discussing marriage.
"I don't have to tell
you that the divorce rate is incredibly high. Your marriage
has a better chance of not making it than making it."
"Don't remind me,"
"I wouldn't be doing
my job if I didn't."
"He's got a point,"
"The Church wants to
make sure that you two are meant to be together. You can understand
that, I'm sure. So wewe being the heads of the Churchhave
devised a little test to make sure you two are indeed the
two that are right for each other. Now, understand this will
be the first time we've done this type of marriage before,
so nothing's guaranteed and surely there will be some bugs
to work out, but we have to start somewhere."
"So our wedding will
be an experiment?"
Hasley said. He saw no point in not getting right to it. He
wasn't the type to mince words.
Michelle looked at Francis
and said, "I'm not sure if I want our wedding to be an
Francis didn't know what to
say. He hadn't been sure about the whole marriage thing from
the beginning as it was.
"But," the Reverend
continued, "in an effort to show our gratitude for your
cooperation, we're willing to pick up the tab. The reception,
the honeymoon, everything."
Francis quickly became a lot
more interested. Both of Michelle's parents were deceased,
and he was the one footing the bill for the whole thing. "Well,
that doesn't sound too bad now, does it Michelle?"
"No." Her voice
quivered a bit. Something about the whole 'experiment' scenario
wasn't resonating with her.
But it didn't sound bad to
Francis. It sounded kind of interesting. Especially the part
about not having to pay for a thing
* * *
The Church sent out invitations
the first business day after Francis and Michelle signed their
names on the dotted line.
The invitations themselves
had complete instructions of what was to be done, where to
go, and what to expect when they got there. It was the oddest
invitation each of the nine guests had ever received: no name
of the couple being married, no information. Just instructions.
Five men, five women, one
of whom was the bride to be, and the groom. An RSVP was required,
and not one of the nine declined.
Undoubtedly, the $20,000 dollar
check cashable by RSVPing in the affirmative had something
to do with it.
* * *
One Month Later
Michelle woke up nervous like
most brides on their wedding day. Like the guests that the
Church of Toloniscegy invited, she was given instructions
after she and Francis had signed the papers.
At first hearing what the
Church wanted to do, both she and Francis started laughing.
It had to be a joke. Reverend Hasley made it crystal clear
that it wasn't, and that they'd already signed the contract.
She could see by Francis's
face that he was sold on the idea the minute the Reverend
had mentioned picking up the tab. He'd expressed concern about
their financial situation before, so he was obviously relieved.
Michelle loved him so much
that she was willing to do whatever it took to have them as
a real, legal, married couple. Added to which, all that she
was really giving up was a 'normal' wedding ceremony. The
deal was the Church was in charge of all aspects of that and
she had free reign over the reception.
So all she was missing were
the actual pictures of the ceremony itself and, of course,
guests in the congregation. But they'd all be at the reception
anyways, and she and Francis had decided to tell their friends
and family that they were eloping and only wanted a reception.
But still, something felt
At one thirty in the afternoon,
two limos arrived at Francis's house, one for Michelle and
one for him. They were driven not to the Church, but to a
hotel. It was there that they were supposed to get ready.
Their limos pulled up to the
front of the hotel, and the chauffeurs let out their respective
Francis looked at Michelle
and forced a smile. "So, are you ready for our big day,
She didn't quite smile back.
She tried, but was just too damn nervous. "I know I am.
The question is, are you?"
He couldn't answer with a
completely one hundred percent yes or no either way, and right
now, he felt it impossible to lie to her, to give her any
sense of false hope. He thought it would all go smoothly,
but he just wasn't sure. So, instead of saying anything, he
walked over to her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and
said, "I love you, darling."
"I love you too."
Francis had been with her
intensely over the past month, watching, learning, memorizing.
Doing his best to catch every little detail of her movements.
The way she carried her arms at her side when she was walking.
The subtle sway of her hips as he walked behind her. Her frontal
motion as she walked towards him. The way she held her hands
with her fingers slightly curled.
How hard can it be to pick
my future wife out of a whopping five women, regardless of
the disguise? He knew her. He didn't know whether or not
he would know who the other women were. He expected that would
be revealed at the reception.
But for now, walking to the
elevator hand in hand, he felt like he was cramming for a
final. Memorize, memorize, memorize!
As per the Church's instructions,
they already had their room keys. She was in a room on the
twelfth floor, and he as in a room on the fourteenth floor.
That's where she'd be dressed into her wedding costume and
he into his tux.
The elevator door opened on
the twelfth floor. She turned wordlessly towards him and kissed
him on the lips. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting him
to see that her eyes were watering. Then, she left abruptly
and didn't look back.
The elevator doors opened
on the fourteenth floor. He had an hour and a half to kill,
and his instructions had specifically stated that he wait
in his room until a representative from the Church came to
get him. If he broke this or any of the other rules, he had
to not only pay for the reception, but reimburse the 180,000
dollars it had put up to ensure the proper attendees were
at the 'wedding'. According to the lawyer that was there when
they signed the papers, the contract was legally binding.
So, Francis didn't even think about leaving.
The way Reverend Hasley had
put it, all he had to do was pick his wife out of the five
women there. So long as he knew his 'wife' well enough, it
would be a piece of cake, even with the costumes on.
He didn't go into detail about
the costumes with Francis, but he did with Michelle in a separate
room. He remembered how fragile she'd looked when she came
out of that meeting.
He stood up as the Reverend
and Michelle walked back into the office. "You still
all right with this?"
The Reverend went on to explain
to Francis his set of rules, which consisted of sitting in
a hotel for an hour and a half and never, ever discussing
the actual 'wedding' with Michelle. He said if they did, in
any capacity, the deal would be considered null and void.
He also made it clear that the Church would 'know'. Neither
asked howthey just believed him. They were two members
of a very elite 'religion', and they knew their place was
not to question.
His tux was laid out on the
bed, and there was fruit and a glass of champagne by the table
next to the window that overlooked the pool. Not a whole bottle,
but just one glass. The last thing he wanted to do before
the 'wedding' was add to it the distraction of booze, if even
only one glass. After all, the Reverend had said, "Be
ready, Francis. Study your fiancée in the month before
the wedding. Learn, memorize every move, every little gesture."
He'd taken Reverend Hasley's
advice. He nibbled on the fruit but didn't touch the champagne.
Francis had been told that
all of the Brides would be wearing the same thing. Reverend
Hasley had said the whole point was to make sure that Francis
really knew who his beloved, his future wife was. In theory,
it made sense. He'd been with Michelle long enough to know
her subtle movements and gestures, and knew he could pick
her out of a crowd of 100, much less five, even with a costume
The contract also specifically
stated that while the costumes would clearly hide identity,
no secret hand gestures or any other physical signs were allowed.
He wanted desperately to know
what would happen if he chose the wrong woman. The contract
stated simply that the Church would "take action it deemed
acceptable", all of which had been approved by her and
Francis's signatures. He said he'd explain all of that prior
to the wedding, but in his hotel suite. Only Francis would
be privy to this information. It was all in the contract,
of which neither Francis nor Michelle had taken the time to
read the fine print.
* * *
Entering the hotel room, the
first thing Michelle noticed was a garment bag on the bed
next to a white box with a red ribbon tied around it. Underneath
the ribbon was a cream colored envelope with her name on it.
She took it out from underneath the ribbon and sat on the
edge of the bed. Oddly enough, her first thought was, 'Whose
saliva sealed this envelope?' Michelle opened it and read,
Congratulations on what
should be the happiest day of your life thus far, and may
you have many more to come!
In the box is a mask. It
is identical to the masks the other nine women and men will
be wearing. It is made out of a special foam that will mold
to your face. You will be able to breathe in it just fine,
and although it may feel like it's permanently attached
to you, I assure you it is very easy to remove. It feels
a bit strange at first, so I suggest putting it on and taking
it off to reassure yourself that you are indeed able to
do so. The special foam allows you to move your face muscles
as you normally would, but its density makes it so that
others cannot see your facial expression(s). The foam will
also conform to your lips, but there is a screen over the
mouth. Again, you'll be able to breathe normally, but the
screen prohibits communications with others. Should you
speak, only static will come out of your mouth, much as
if you're tuned into a station frequency with no signal.
The dress you and the other women are wearing will be identical
and for all intents and purposes, you won't be able to tell
each other apart. The same goes for the groomsmen and their
outfits. We have taken the utmost care to assure that recognition
through body type will be impossible, from the shoes you
are going to be wearing that will make you all the same
height to the dresses and tuxedos that ensure you all appear
to have one body type. Don't worry, Michelle, Francis loves
you and he should be able to find you. Again, on behalf
of the Church, I thank you for taking part in this process.
You are truly making history.
Michelle didn't want to make
history; she just wanted to be married.
She unwrapped the red bow
from the box, opened it, and took out the mask.
It was pretty much what she
had expected. It looked like a mannequin sans the hair and
the weird contraption that went over the mouth hole. That
looked like the front of a speaker cover on her (soon to be
'their') home stereo system.
In lieu of eyes were dark
shades. The whole get up reminded her of a cross between a
mannequin and a fly.
Michelle decided to take Reverend
Hasley's advice and try it on. The first thing she felt was
it sucking to her face like a mold. She held her breath as
the mask grew firmer around her face and head, although it
wasn't until about twenty seconds later that she realized
she was doing so.
She exhaled deeply through
her mouth and the nose holes. Just as the letter had said,
she could breathe fine. Michelle also noticed that while she
could hear the air coming out of her nose, she didn't hear
a sound coming out of her mouth. "Hello," she said,
and heard only static. "Hello," she said louder.
Again, static but the volume hadn't changed. And, although
her shades on the mask were dark, she could see as if there
was no hindrance. It was all so creepy.
Taking Reverend Hasley's advice
once again, she took the mask off just to assure herself that
she could. It came off as easily as if she had pulled off
one of her socks.
She put it on again, once
more feeling the strange suction as the mask conformed to
This time, she walked over
to the bathroom to take a look at herself in the mirror. It
was eerie, to say the least.
All I wanted to do was
She wondered if the other
guests had tried on their masks yet and what their reactions
were. Furthermore, Michelle wondered who the actual guests
attending the wedding even were. Were they the people she
and Francis had invited to the reception, or were they just
random people the Church had picked? What, if any, was the
Michelle put the mask back
on the bed for the time being, right next to the box. Looking
at the clock, she saw that she had 45 minutes until a representative
of the Church arrived to pick her up. Might as well get ready.
The Church had put her up
in a swanky suite, complete with surround sound. She walked
over and turned the radio station to an easy listening channel
to calm her nerves. Something by Sade was playing. That was
just fine with Michelle. She'd always enjoyed her music.
She went back to the bed and
took the garment bag, hanging it on the inside hook of the
bathroom door. She opened it and was stunned. It was one of
the most beautiful dresses she'd ever seen. If the Church
hadn't picked out this particular dress, she very well might
have. Did the Church know her that well? Did they know what
her tastes were?
As with the mask, there were
instructions, this time a sheet of fine peach paper tucked
neatly into the collar of the dress. These instructions were
I hope you like the dress.
It's difficult keeping something fashionable while at the
same time making it a 'disguise'. Simply put it on as you
would any other dress, and then the mask, tucking your hair
first inside the collar. Make sure that the neck of the
mask is tucked inside the dress so that your hair is not
showing. Included with your dress are white stockings and
shoes. The shoes have been adjusted accordingly to the five
women so that you'll all be of equal height. Lastly, put
on the white gloves, and place your right hand over your
heart. This will trigger a slight airflow into you dress,
inflating it to a degree so that all of the women will have
the same figures. (Don't worry, Michelle, we're not going
to turn you into a blimp on your wedding day!) The men are
going through the exact same procedures, albeit with the
tuxes. The clear exception to this is Francis, who will
be completely undisguised.
Again, all of my best,
She took the dress off of
the hanger, running her free hand over the fabric.
Silk. Definitely silk.
Michelle slid into the dress,
impressed by the feel of the fabric on her body. Whatever
the airflow source, it definitely was in between the fabric
of the gown, as she felt nothing but silk against her skin.
It was actually the most comfortable piece of clothing she'd
Michelle followed the instructions
to the letter, not wanting to jeopardize, well, anything.
After the mask was on and
her hair was tucked into the collar, she placed her white-gloved
hand over her heart. Immediately, she felt air inflating into
the dress. The feeling reminded her of inflating the flotation
device she used when scuba diving.
Michelle watched her transformation
in the mirror. The rush of air was anything but overwhelming,
and the changes were very subtle.
Nothing happened to her arms
or legs, which were completely hidden by the silk, but her
chest, hips and ass expanded. The Reverend was right. They
didn't turn her into a blimp. It was more like a slightly,
what, expanded version of herself? She was staring at the
mirror, amused, when she heard a rapping at the front door.
Walking to it she prayed to
God it wasn't the maid or room service. She wasn't sure if
there was a way to explain her appearance. Then she remembered
that she couldn't explain her appearance even if she wanted
to: if she talked, all that would come out was static.
She stood at the door, hesitating,
until she heard a familiar voice. "Michelle, it's me,
She immediately opened the
The Reverend smiled. "You
look perfect. Turn around for me."
Are you ready?"
"Yes," she said.
Static was all that came out. This non-talking business was
going to take some getting used to. Thankfully, it wouldn't
be for to long. Michelle nodded.
Hasley said. "Come with me."
She hesitated just long enough
to let the Reverend know that something was wrong.
He knew what it was. "Don't
worry, Michelle, nobody is going to see you. That's all been
arranged. We're going to go down a hallway with nobody in
it, straight to a limo with tinted windows, and from there
directly to the Church."
She nodded as he opened and
held the door for her, and together they walked down the hall
to a staircase Michelle hadn't noticed before.
"Is the dress comfortable
enough?" the Reverend asked, looking at her through the
He was making direct eye contact
despite the lenses. He was certainly familiar with the 'costume'.
At the bottom of the stairs,
he stepped in front of her and held the door open. In front
of her was a stretch limo and a chauffeur standing beside
the open door.
She got in and saw the four
other women dressed identically to her. Surreal, so surreal.
The Church was only about
five minutes from the hotel, and when they arrived, Michelle
saw that there were already two limos there. Francis was outside
the one farthest away. She knew him well enough to know clearly
what she saw on his face: fear.
Something had happened in
the time between being dropped off at the hotel and now. She
had only seen Francis really scared once before, and now he
had that same look on his face. She wanted to tell herself
that it was natural; that he was having pre-marital anxiety,
but she couldn't. She also couldn't run up and ask him what
was wrong or try to comfort him, and that disturbed her most.
Movement from the other limo
took her eyes away from Francis. The chauffeur for that car
was getting out.
At the same moment, she heard
the driver's door of her limo opening.
The chauffeur opened the door,
and one by one the women exited. Michelle was the first out,
and she saw a man get out of the limo next to her. Everything
was so perfectly choreographed. Despite the silk gown, she
still felt her flesh crawl.
Just as the instructions had
said, the men were all wearing the same white mannequin masks,
with the black fly eyes and the speaker-looking thing over
Reverend Hasley came between
the two pairs of limos and immediately started pairing couples
"Okay," the Reverend
said, "now I need you good people to go over to the Church
and wait in the back. When the all too familiar Bridal March
starts, you'll be assisted as to when to walk down the aisle.
Francis will be on the side, watching, figuring out who his
wife is. Just nod if you understand."
Without hesitation they all
nodded. Michelle was starting to feel claustrophobic in her
outfit and imagined that the others must be feeling the same
Apparently, the gentlemen
had been instructed to hook their right arm around that of
their partner. Michelle's partner 'escorted' her towards the
It was a place that Michelle
and Francis had been to many times before. It was a plain,
white box-looking building, with absolutely nothing to make
it stand out. To get there, you had to drive up a windy path.
Michelle imagined that the view would have been spectacular
had the Church not decided to surround the building and the
parking lot with a virtual forest of trees.
The front doors of the church
were already open, and the group was met by a woman Michelle
had seen at Church before but whose name she didn't know.
"Hello everyone, and
welcome to a very special day. I'm the one the Reverend told
you about, the one who is going to assist you on your entrance
to the Church. I need you to all pair up one behind the other."
Michelle and her escort were
the first through the doors, so they were also the first in
line. She looked over her shoulder and saw that the rest of
the wedding party was moving into place as well. Almost immediately,
the organist began playing the song.
"Okay, walk slowly, and
keep your arms linked while walking to the altar. When you
get there, you may split. There are five chairs on the left,
and five chairs on the right. Gentlemen go to the left, and
ladies go to the right. Stand in front of your chair until
you're instructed to do otherwise. Nod if you understand."
Michelle nodded and her escort
nodded. Then the lady said, "Good." She could only
assume that everyone else had nodded, too.
She motioned the first couple
forward without wasting any time.
Slowly, they began walking
down the aisle, and it wasn't until then that Michelle got
her first real glimpse of the interior of the building. It
was the first time she'd seen it 'done up', so to speak.
The main aisle she was walking
down was littered with white rose petals, and there were bows
all along the pews from the entrance of the Church all the
way to the altar.
And then there was Francis.
She saw him standing on the
far right, all the way across the other side of the pews.
If he'd looked scared before, he now looked downright terrified.
He'd turned a whiter shade
than he'd been outside, and he was visibly trembling. Had
it not been for the sweat on his brow, she would have thought
him possibly cold.
Michelle wanted to rush over
to him, put her arms around him, and tell him that everything
was going to be okay. But it clearly wasn't, was it?
His eyes were focused so intensely
on her, clearly trying to discern if this was indeed his bride
As they walked down the aisle,
Francis followed them from across the Church until they were
about halfway to the altar. Then, he walked back towards the
front of the Church, where by now the second couple had begun
Reverend Hasley was already
at the front of the altar, and as Michelle and her escort
approached, he said, "Please, go to the farthest chair,
but please don't sit until instructed to."
They did as they were told.
She stopped in front of the
farthest chair, which looked more like a throne than any chair
she'd ever seen.
Michelle watched as the rest
of the procession came in. Francis was following his pattern,
meeting each couple at the front of the Church, walking mid-way
down the aisle with them and then returning to the front.
The anxious look on his face only grew more intense as each
couple walked in.
He followed the fifth and
final couple all the way down to the altar, where he cut in
front of the pew and approached Reverend Hasley.
Hasley said, and then turned to the wedding party. "You
may be seated."
Michelle was watching Francis
the whole time through the bug-eyed lenses. She swore he'd
flinched when the Reverend told them to take a seat.
"Now that you're seated,
please put your arms comfortably on the armrests."
Each chair, each throne, had
square, wooden armrests. Michelle didn't know why she was
being told to put her arms there, but she did as told.
When each of the ten had their
arms on the rests, Michelle heard a quick buzz sound, and
then felt pressure on her wrists.
She looked down and saw that
her wrists were bound now, covered by semi-circles of metal.
They were secure enough to allow her only the slightest movement
of her wrists.
Michelle looked around at
the others, who were shackled too, and heard static coming
from all directions.
Apparently, this had taken
everybody by surprise with the exception of Reverend Hasley
and Francis. At least this explained the fear in his face:
he must have been told ahead of time, and it was only logical
that he knew what was to come.
His countenance hadn't changed.
"Ladies and gentlemen,
today we are here to witness an event nothing short of Sacred."
He wasn't the same man Michelle
had known. This wasn't Reverend Hasley. This was District
"Today, I promise, will
be a remarkable day for all of you. And after today's wedding,
there will be a feast to end all feasts. But, as you know,
like the Good Book says, you must be prepared. So I hope you
all have enough oil lest you be left outside to wail and gnash
She knew the passage well.
So did Francis. But he knew that wailing and gnashing of the
teeth wasn't exactly what the Reverend had in mind.
And Francis knew exactly who
his fiancée was.
But he also knew the movements
of another 'bride'. A woman that he had loved like no other.
A woman that had changed his life as he'd known it.
Francis knew the day she left
that for the rest of his life he would be settling. They had
shared something so special together, so real. Was it possible
that he could ever be without her and still be the same man?
When she left, the part of
him he'd shared with her disappeared, and he knew it wasn't
something he'd ever, ever find again, unless with her.
Francis didn't know it, but
she felt the same way. He'd always hoped she'd felt the same
but could never know for sure. The only way either of them
could 'move on' was to not see or speak to or see each other.
It had been three years since their last communication. He
knew, deep in his heart, he hadn't moved on, really, unless
you considered settling for someone else and living with the
ghosts of your past every day 'moving on'. Every morning she
was on his mind, and every night, thoughts of her were what
tucked him into bed.
Was her husband here too?
That, Francis didn't know. He only knew he recognized the
two women. Instantly. His fiancée was the first in,
and she was the third.
The only other thing Francis
knew for sure was he would never see any of the people he
didn't pick ever again.
Neither would anyone else.
This was the beginning and
the end; the Reverend had assured him of that in his hotel
room before the wedding.
The Reverend, Francis, and
one woman would walk out of there. The lady who assisted with
the entrance was already gone. If Francis didn't pick somebody,
the ten people would be tortured until they died slowly, and
he'd have to watch.
If he did pick, the pain they
suffered would be much, much less.
The Church would see to it
that all the legalities would be taken care of, with all of
the bodies being disposed of properly with no trace back to
the Church or Francis. The Church, apparently, had friends
in all the right places.
"And hey, Francis, everybody
in the Church has been cheating, so don't feel so bad."
"No, you're right, not
Michelle. But she pressured you, and if you were to cheat,
it would be her fault. And what if you had kids, Francis?
How many lives would that be destroying? The choice is yours,
Francis. But if you ever, ever cheat, we will know, and let's
just say that your past will come back to haunt you in ways
you can't even begin to imagine."
The Reverend walked across
Francis's suite and put his hand on his shoulder. "Don't
carry too heavy of a cross, Francis. Everyone in this room
has cheated one way or another, and Michelle is far from the
sacrificial, innocent lamb. Without our intervention, yours
is a lost cause. We're just doing our part to keep the divorce
rate down, Francis. Nothing more, and nothing less."
Of course, he had tried the
'just take me' approach, all to no avail. Likewise, reasoning
was an impossibility. Francis had even gone so far as to say
he'd leave right now and go to the authorities.
"Go ahead. You'll end
up with a needle in your arm after being repeatedly sodomized.
You're too pretty for prison, Francis. Besides," he had
that warm smile again, the one Francis had come to know and
even love so well, "if you do that, well, that makes
a total of eleven dead, yourself included, of course. Do the
right thing; you'll be saving lives, Francis."
"Do the right thing.
I'll strangle you right here, right now. And let the others
He was bigger than the Reverend
and could have him down in seconds. Even as he said it, though,
he realized his threat was empty. Anyone with an IQ over four
would have been prepared for that remark. The gun that Reverend
Hasley pulled out only reinforced the point.
So here he was, facing the
altar, with only one person's fate in his hands. The others
were already as dead and lifeless as the faces of the masks.
With tears streaming down his face, he pointed.
The Reverend looked Francis
in the eye and said, "Do nothing. It's too late now.
It's been activated and can't stop."
He watched, shocked, as the
masks subtly changed. On all of the masks with the exception
of the woman he'd pointed to, the nostrils were closing. Francis
heard the static increase through their voice boxes. Then,
black covers came down over where the voice speakers had been,
completely cutting off the air supply.
It was the longest, most agonizing
moment of his life, watching the panicked people dying of
suffocation. Fortunately, the final pair of legs stopped twitching
after about three minutes.
The shackles came off of the
one he had chosen, and she immediate took her mask off.
"Needless to say, there's
no reception," the Reverend said. "However, we are
sending you two on a honeymoon. We let her choose the location,
Francis. After all, you two have so much in common."
He chuckled. "You may kiss the bride."