The Wedding - a short tfm fic

[X]

You can hear the chatter of mice all around you.

The tribe is gathered in a utility room, all eager and waiting for the wedding to set up and begin, and the person meant to be married is absolutely clueless.

"Pick one." You demand as you hold up a list of map codes. All of these contain wedding maps, and with this, Squirrel will be able to have the proper wedding they deserve.

This is going to be an exciting wedding, you can tell. The giddiness in the atmosphere is thick and you can barely resist smiling, but the groom must hurry and choose.

Squirrel fidgets before a string of code flickers before his eyes and he enters the numbers to the map. The room suddenly changes, shifting and morphing to more pleasant scenery. The once random map with dark undertones changes into day, and a gazebo made of ice stretches before them, tall and regal. Just beside that icy gazebo lays an old tattered book on a stand, it's pages flipped wide open; clearly for the marriage officiant. Chairs are placed on either side of the gazebo, and farther down the map is an open dining area, a huge and blank screen projected, ready to play any type of music or video. It looks dusty though, old and cracked. You doubt it will work.

'Finally.' You sigh to yourself. The chattering of the mice grows louder, and Squirrel smiles triumphantly to themself. Excitement is thick in the air as everyone marvels at the wedding map, and quickly make to sit in seats by the sides.

Squirrel and their soon to be spouse, Coffee, quickly make their way up to the gazebo and asks: "Who will be the priest?"

"I will." You immediately chirp, and though there's several groans of protest, Squirrel agrees and you quickly enter the gazebo with them, pulling the stand up to eye level. You are going to be the priest for this wedding, but you've never done this before. God help you. It takes a while before you realize you need to change your outfit.

"One moment." You say, and quickly don a tie and pretty red bow accompanied with a nice bell. "Now I look fresh as fuck."

You wait for everyone to settle down, then you clear your throat and begin speaking, making an effort to put as much grand feeling into your voice as possible.

"Today, we are gathered here in holy matrimony to celebrate the union of two mice in this gazebo." You begin. Several mice listen attentively, and others begin shedding tears for such a beautiful speech.

"We have Squirrel; she's been lonely for quite some time." You gesture to Squirrel. There's no applause however, there's silence.

"I'M A BOY." Squirrel interjects loudly at your statement. You pause, and inwardly cringe. Damn, you fucked up. You just referred to a him as a 'she' and you've never been more confused in your life.

"Yikes." You whisper under your breath. You made a mistake. A bit of a huge mistake. A very huge mistake. You hadn't realized Squirrel was a boy. Then again, you have a bad habit of assuming. You look Squirrel over for a bit. Yep, nothing noteworthy about this guy that could tip off his true gender. He looks kinda neutral.

You straighten your shoulders and awkwardly clear your breath. "Oops." You say. "Moving on."

You gesture to Coffee.

"And here we have Coffee...." You pause for a moment. Do you know Coffee? Not really, but they are a tribe mate. "Whom I don't know. Anyways," You continue boldly on. You can hear someone snickering in the crowd about your mistake.

"Coffee." The mouse looks up as you turn to them. "Do you promise to love and cherish Squirrel till death?"

A nod from the spouse. "I do."

You turn to Squirrel. "Squirrel, do you promise to protect and uphold your marriage?" Squirrel nods.

"Then you may now kiss the bride."

The tribe mice are cheering, throwing an assortment of fireworks as the new married couple gather for a kiss. You throw fireworks as well, and soon, you all decide to gather at the dining tables.

"Where's the food?"

"There is none, this map is cheap as fuck."

"Hold up, I've brought something."

You make do. You pull out several fish from your inventory and throw two onto each table. The mice 'ooh' and 'aah' in excitement at the prospect of finally getting something to eat, and the fish set out on the table stop flopping. It's tacky, and there's no dishes, but at least you have something to eat.

"Bon apetite mi amors." You cry in a hideous mix of French and Italian language. You straighten your tie, sit down and lick your lips before pulling a fork and knife out from somewhere in the deepest parts of your ass.

You and the other mice dig in, and soon the room is filled with an assortment of snapping jaws and clicking teeth.

Over from another table, you hear someone express their dislike of the current dish in front of them. You frown. They have no excuse to be so picky when the budget is low, but you'll cater to them, this one time. You scoot out your chair, get up and walk over to the ungrateful party-goer.

"If you're not satisfied with your current meal, I can feed you something from my inventory. It can be paper cake or fizzle bomb deluxe. Choose." In reality, 'paper cake' is just paper shaped into a cake and the 'fizzle bomb deluxe' is a small but bright and expendable ball of energy. It shouldn't be eatable, yet mice over time have evolved not only to grow an insatiable hunger for cheese, but also the ability to eat anything that's edible. Seriously, the ability for you guys to down things that isn't safe is incredible.

The mouse once more declines, and you frown. The tribe mate that was sitting across from you before stands up, walks over, seemingly unimpressed with the pickiness of their guest.

"Paper deluxe it is you shall have then!" She cried wickedly, pulls a paper plane from her inventory and sends it hurtling for the table. The paper plane crashes against the table hard, jolting the two untouched fish that had lain there after the stranger refused to eat them.

The fish flop onto the floor and you give your tribe mate a frown. The tribe mate doesn't stop there however. They go into a frenzy, tossing paper planes left and right. More fish flop onto the floor. One mouse cries out in horror and crumples to the floor.

"Stop playing with your food!" You shout after you see the limp fish on the floor. The fish you worked so hard  to secure and deliver for this damn wedding- in all honesty, you're more concerned for the food than the safety of your tribe mates.

Chaos descends.

"NO!" You scream because everything descends into hell and more paper balls are being thrown.

In the end, you decide to leave the map and go to the tribe house for a boring after party.

This seems like a much more calm alternate.