After sharing our woes, we wed on Wednesday under a withering winter sun.
I wore a loose white dress comfortable for gorging on food with.
My hair was curled and pinned up, comfortable for gorging on food with.
My makeup was minimalistic and concentrated on my eyes, comfortable for gorging on food with.
The person officiating the wedding was the trans- horse I met on the plane. I didn't listen to a word of what she was snorting (literally). I was gazing lovingly into the murky eyes of the perfectly grilled fish on the buffet table until Luciano tapped me for my part. I do! Hell yeah food! Any day any time.
Oh and by the way Luciano is a billionaire and my ex step brother so we work.
I could lie and say we lived happily ever after but:
A smokin' hot alien crashed our wedding and killed everyone including my "beloved" Luciano, then blindfolded me and whispered in a like super deep voice (ofc deeper than Luciano's) " Oswaliga frittata fritters bundesliga Ronaldo".
Which I assume is "Imma take you to my home planet, doll."
The end
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The bad boy stole my underwear drawers( OMG where are my sanitary pads?!)
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