01 January, 2010

Had a break at me work so here be another chapter on the Weasil wedding

14 October 2005

R. Linda:

Leading up to the nuptials Mr. Weasil found himself in a quandary I tell you. He could no longer put off the date, and so with this dark event looming before him, he did as Weasils usually do, make the best of a bad situation.

While the lass was busy with bridesmaids and wedding planners, Mr. W was busy cooling his heels in Scotland. Yes, ladies and laddies, the lad took himself as far away from the pre-wedding events as he could. He informed his father that the wedding was to be held next to a small pond because his lady wanted an outdoor wedding and she thought a gazebo next to a pond would be a wonderful visual. However, there was no gazebo. The father of the groom needed to build one!

Now don't get suckered into thinking that Weasil was into the nuptial phase, no indeed. This was a ploy on his part to put the nuptials on hold a little while longer, a year or more. Yes, he told his flabbergasted father to s-l-o-w-l-y construct one for the occasion. Being a doting father, the man agreed. He had always thought a gazebo next to the pond would be a lovely addition, but just not that soon. "Oh welly," as the Weasil would say, it was commissioned to be done.

Weasil returned to the U.S. of A thinking he had bought himself some time. Hark, he didn't because his father had haired a crew of determined Scottish carpenters and Scottish carpenters are known for their accuracy, skill and fast work. That gazebo became ready a whole month ahead of schedule. Uh huh, the Weasil was sucking wind.

"I noze," (which means -- I know (in Weasilese)), "I'll jus git me a decorator of weddin gazebos from Japannie." Now we know none of the players in this tale could speak Japanese and I hate to say it, but I think Weasil hired a Japanese wedding consultant on purpose. Yes, to slow the coming nuptials to a crawl, why else would he do it? All right to be annoying as was his usual mode of personality, but would he do it just to put the wedding off for a few more weeks, even months? Why yes, this is Weas we are speaking of and of course he would and that was the dastardly plan.

The Japanese wedding consultant was one Hiro Fujiyuma from Tokyo. The young man was flamboyant and flashy and a constant source of amusement for young Weasil. To say the bride-to-be was beside herself in horror would be an understatement, but she was just that. Horrified. At the first and only meeting she was sitting quietly in the drawing room of Weasil's father's stately home enjoying the view of rolling green lawn and afternoon sunshine. The sun shining in brightly making interesting sunny patterns on the oriental rug at her feet. But not as interesting as young Mr. Fujiyuma's pajama-like outfit of royal purple, bright red piping and gold shiny shoes, that when he shifted position and the sun caught them, flashed one sitting across from him to blindness. Oh my no, the sun and carpet could not compete. Actually, even Mr. W dressed for the honourable occasion of Mr. Fujiyuma's presence, couldn't do justice to the sunlight and carpet, but he was a wonderful compliment to Mr. Fujiyuma's get-up, dressed in lime green silk suit, red and white stripped socks, orange shoes and topped off with a fushia bow tie. Um hum, hum. Yessirreee.

I'd like us to pause here just picturing it in our minds.


Pause over. So, you can envision the bride-to-be's wide-eyed stare, gaping mouth and brain banging around in her head communicating through electrical impulses to her eyes that what she was seeing, wasn't really real, but alas, it was.

Unfit for any vocal communication she sat there in dread and disbelief. Mr. Fujiyuma, oblivious to the effect he and the fiance' where having on the fiancee', greeted her in proper Japanese fashion, and when getting no response (which he was used to), plowed on in a fast firestorm of Japanese his ideas for the gazebo. Of course, neither of the two betrothed understood a word (and of course as was the Weasil's plan), Weasil at least, nodded vigorously. Mr. F was himself very pleased his decorative plan for the gazebo was a go and the monetary payment assured. Yup, big bucks coming Mr. F's way, thus the toothy grin at the lovely couple.

Off the two flashes in the pan went, Mr. F talking descriptively in Japanese to (what for all intents and purposes seemed like a spellbound) Mr. W. As for the poor lass, left in the shadow room, twilight creeping in, she sat with folded hands quite still trying to comprehend what had just happened. Not sure it was a dream, she sat there for a good six hours as darkness fell and no lights found her until the groom's father's valet found her, turned on some lights and then went to fetch her a book since he surmised she probably wanted a good read to take her mind off her betrothed. Well, who wouldn't think that?

Later, when book remained unopened in her lap, the man politely asked if she needed assistance, she muttered something as he helped her up and then stumbled off to her nicely appointed room above stairs. There she fell upon her bed and stared at the ceiling still trying to sort it all out. Poor lass had huge black circles under her eyes the next day, and looked wane and ill. It took several more days for her to get back to normal and never once did she ask her beloved if he was wearing a lime green suit and was having a muddled conversation with a man of foreign attitude dressed in purple pajamas.

Was a shame it was, took another two months before she concurred it was all a bad dream caused by wedding jitters. Yup, but all of it would come back with a resounding BANG when it came time for the wedding rehearsal, at the uh decorated gazebo.

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