The Marriage of Cameron and Phunke

Dee couldn’t believe her luck—What luck? She’s stuck playing a freaking piano at a wedding! Why the hell did she even offer? That stupid girl… It had always been her dream to play the piano at a wedding (more like her parents’ dream), and she was finally given the opportunity. Only problem was she had no idea what she was doing. All she remembered was to take the cues, and do what she had to do. Well, at that moment, she had to go to the bathroom. Finally, you speak the truth! My gosh, who knew you could be such a filthy chronic liar?

So throughout the whole wedding, there was nothing Dee could feel but irritation. Didn’t help that the groom was the very same person who had raped her tree wife some time ago (Damn right he should be suffering from this! You go get him, Dee! Er…not in that way. >.>), and she was still every bit scarred from that moment. Granted, she had run away, but fate was a real b---- and now she was stuck playing the piano. For his wedding. She should have been beating him up and --I’m so proud of violent Dee. It’s just…-wipes tear away- They grow up so fast!—ruining the moment. Too bad she was too cowardly to stand up and slap him. She would save it for the wedding reception.

After cringing through all the lovey-dovey stuff, Dee wanted nothing more than to leave. And then he just had to cue another song. Rolling her eyes, Dee started playing for the heck of it (You know there’s a deeper—SHUT UP! Will ya just let me finish this thing? Jeez, you have such a big mouth!). She supposed it went alright, but she couldn’t help grimacing at her lack of practice. Even though she tried her best during that one hour before the wedding, it obviously didn’t show right then. Told you you should have practiced more. But do you ever listen to me? Noooooo. Humph. This is what you get.

Finally (and thankfully), the freaking song was over. Dee left the piano, deciding that she just had to go. When she came back, she noticed that Ben Gibbard was just randomly there. With a raised eyebrow, Dee simply found a random seat and tried to resist running up to him and hugging him and…yeah…. Just as she thought she was finally going to get some rest and peace and quiet (if that’s even possible at a wedding), she was randomly tossed into a trash can.

“WHAT THE F-ING HELL?!” Oh wait…she was dead. But through the awesomeness that was not to be, a little birdie or maybe it was an angel told her that she had died because she was a tribute in the Bouquet Bloodbath. Uh, yeah. Like we even know what that is. Well, just her luck. She died while being a piano player at a wedding she wasn’t even enjoying all that much. Or did she?

Because the next thing she knew, she was still in the chaos known as the wedding reception. Brilliant, just brilli—Hey! Stop thinking for yourself! I’m the one in charge of your thoughts, remember? And to make matters worse, there was a stupid Kesha impersonator. Or was it Ke$ha? Dee waved it off as she groggily made her way to the bar. Those damn drinks better be free. I definitely need to get drunk right now. Without another moment of hesitation, she ordered a glass of something or another and that was what she was given. The colour didn’t look all that promising but hell, she needed that drink. So she guzzled it all down. You chug that drink down, girl! Yeah, she was going to have a bad headache the next morning and possibly do regrettable things but no telling her mother! (Saph did not read that last part at all...>.>).


((CONGRATS TO THE HAPPY COUPLE! Sorry the post doesn’t seem to reflect that but Dee really is happy! She just needs a few drinks before she shows that. ))

Wedding=Eternal Promise To Have Sex With The Same Person For The Rest Of Your Life.

Its why I am single. Not like I could get any even if I tried.

I waltz in carrying my camera in an outfit that I can attack someone to get a picture with, but still look good in. A beige dress, {strapless}, with a red swirl that flows down around the dress, to {right above my knees}, where the dress stops. *Winks*. The dress looks better on the floor but that will never happen, by, uhhhh, my choice!. I tip-toe in my red high heels, and walk right to the, uh "refreshments" table, where I find a man working the bar.
"Listen, Pedro. I don't want any of your fruity cocktails or stupid-ass martinis. I want hard liquor. Strong beer. Or something that will make me forget that I am taking pictures of people getting "married". Right the **** now!"
He gives me a look of, "Hey, I am serving rich stupid people stuff that makes them even stupider, and less rich.", and I understand it perfectly. He motions for me to follow him, and takes me behind the bar and points to a cooler. I hop to it and grab a bottle of hard liquor. The bottle is downed in less than five minutes.

I have the sudden urge to talk to people.

"Cinder! HOW ARE YOU TONIGHT?! Yea, me too! What, REALLY? Wow. Oh, GLITTA! HEY! I LOVE ME SOME KE$HA! Phunke and Cammy-Cam-Cam-Cam CONGRATS on the baby! Or is it wedding? RIGHT! WEDDING! I am SUPPOSED to be taking pictures! I WILL GET TO IT!"

I throw my heels off, and fly from place to place taking snapshots. I make bootyful- oops I, uh, mean beautiful pictures of hot singles, uh, I mean the scenery. I glide like an angel with wings across the scenario and snap my camera all over the place.
My dress creates a red and beige beauty as I twirl right into- oh. I don't think I have ever seen such a beautiful caterer- I mean food layout! No. I don't. I observe this sexy beast that caters the wedding, and pick a piece of shrimp to persuade him with.
"This is a really, very nice arrangement of things you got going on here, some real hot stuff, the uh, food." I say as I put the shrimp in my mouth and chew it gracefully and slowly.

His body is so sweet, I could just eat him up. He smiles and I return the happy face.

"Hi, I'm Clove."