The Real Royal Wedding

The Real Royal Wedding started this morning with a cup of tea at Fat Sister’s flat. We had a few calm minutes together before my sister’s wedding day began in earnest.

As a doctor, Fat Sister is great at making quick decisions but if she’s given more time, she’s the most indecisive person I know. What she was going to wear to get married in has been an ongoing issue over the last few months. She’d whittled it down to two white dresses but hadn’t made a choice by the time I’d left. I had to wait until she turned up at the registry office to find out.

She wasn’t the only one wearing white – her bridesmaids were too. White isn’t a Tourettes-friendly colour, but I managed to keep it clean all day except for one green streak on the back from where I suddenly dropped down and sat on a plant pot.

Family Stress
The day was rainy so there was lots of ferrying back and forth. My dad drove me to the lair from Fat Sister’s to get ready. He didn’t put the child locks on as I’d asked him and I kept opening the door. He snapped, “You need to control yourself and behave better.”

I understood why he’d said this but it still upset me. We were both stressed and short with each other. Back at the lair King Russell’s sister-in-law calmed me down and said, “You are who you are and we all understand, you don’t need to worry – just enjoy it.”

I made up with my dad later. He and many other people helped me out throughout the day and I felt incredibly well supported. King Russell’s dad Arnie was particularly brilliant and really looked out for me.

The Ceremony
The entrance music started and Fat Sister walked in with my dad.

TH: Here comes the sheep.

Registrar: If any person knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage they should declare it now.

TH: Don’t worry they’re not siblings.

Registrar: Do you Fat Sister take King Russell to be your lawfully wedded husband?

Fat Sister: I do.

TH: Including the eyebrows?

Fat Sister told me later that the registrar, who was brilliant, wiped away a tear of laughter at this point.

I was sitting at the front shouting, ‘Biscuit’ throughout the whole ceremony but there wasn’t a single moment when I worried that this wasn’t exactly what my sister and King Russell wanted.

The Speech
Hello and good afternoon, biscuit, for anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m a biscuit, I’m Fat Sister’s sister. If you don’t know me, biscuit, biscuit, this speech will make a lot more sense, biscuit, if you also know, I have, biscuits, Tourettes.

Some of this speech is planned and some of it, keys, will be a surprise to all, biscuits, of us including me. It is likely to contain many biscuits and a number of, biscuit, inaccuracies.

For the record:

They’re not siblings.

King Russell, biscuit, didn’t break the shower.

He’s not able to read minds, biscuit, hasn’t to the best of my knowledge, biscuit, fallen out of a wormhole, or taken a bullet for my mum. Biscuit.

He has however been engaged to my sister, keys, fuck, fuck, biscuit, Happy Christmas, biscuit. It’s evident to all who meet them, biscuit, they have a solid, loving, balanced relationship and should be together always. Biscuit.

A relationship, which started exactly, biscuit 42 years ago, biscuit, biscuit, that’s not strictly true, exactly eleven years ago. Biscuit. Quick shout out to Lee who was there at the beginning on 17th June 2000, biscuit. One of Fat Sister’s friends, biscuit, determined to find her a boyfriend, fuck, biscuit, biscuit, had organised a party for prospective suitors. King Russell arrived first.

Biscuit, biscuit, biscuit.

It has been a privilege, biscuit, to see each of them, biscuit, and their relationship biscuit, flourish, biscuits, biscuit, develop and, biscuit, strengthen. Fuck. Having lived with them, biscuit, biscuit, I’ve seen, biscuit, I’ve seen them have sex! Just remember the inaccuracies bit. Keys, keys, I’ve got to find my place again now. Having lived with them, biscuit, I’ve seen, biscuit, biscuit, day in day out, how caring, thoughtful and perfectly matched they are, biscuit, biscuit, biscuit. It also means I know:

Never to ask King Russell to change the position of his desk, biscuit, biscuit.

That if Fat Sister, biscuit, discovers a hissing gas leak, Transco will be her fourth call, eeeek, ahhh, biscuit, biscuit.

That, biscuit, there’s, biscuit, no alarm, biscuit, on earth that can wake King Russell up.

That Fat Sister, biscuit, biscuit, ahhhh, is a skilful first aider, especially when drunk.

That they have many shared loves: Come Dine With Me, biscuit, mini Babybels, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, biscuit, sleeping, biscuit.

Recently, biscuit, Fat Sister, biscuit, told me she’d been at a party with King Russell about a year, biscuit, after they’d first started dating. Fuck biscuit, biscuit. She’d turned to him and drunkenly said, biscuit, “I think we’ll still be doing this together in ten years time.” Today proves she was right. Biscuit, biscuit.

I knew King Russell was serious about Fat Sister when he bought her an iPod for Christmas. Most of you will be aware how much he hates Apple, but he knew it would make her squeal with glee. Hi, boof, biscuit, boof, hoof, hoof. King Russell, biscuit, you are, biscuit, thoughtful, calm and patient in everything you do, or in Fat Sister’s words, ‘You’re awesome.’ Biscuit, biscuit, biscuit, biscuit, biscuit.

Anyone, biscuit, who’s heard Fat Sister, biscuit, discuss her role in King Russell’s zombie plan will know, biscuit, she’s clearly committed to their relationship, fuck. Fat Sister, you are generous, compassionate and kind, biscuit. You have always had a mind of your own, biscuit, and an innate sense of good and what is right, biscuit. Your humour, biscuit, and spirit of, biscuits, adventure make you a great, biscuit, sister, biscuit, friend, biscuit, and potential zombie-fighting partner. Fuck off.

Biscuit, on behalf of all your bridesmaids, ahh, biscuit, I would like to say, Fat Sister you look beautiful, and to King Russell, we’re really pleased we’re not dressed as Orks. It’s been an amazing day, keys, and we’re proud to have been part of this landmark in your, biscuit, lives together. Biscuit, biscuit. Today is a celebration of all you have achieved and shared so far, biscuit, as well as all that is to come, biscuit. Wishing you many more years of love and happiness together. Fuck, fuck biscuit.

To Dr Boska and King Russell.

My tics interrupted all the other speeches too. I told my dad not to make jokes, and ticced punch lines to the best man’s anecdotes.

It’s been an amazing day full of love, laughter, friendship and family.


Related tics

Leave a Reply

Login Register

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.