“No, no, no! This is ALL wrong!” Daysha snapped her fingers at the wedding planner, Ernesto. “Ernie, darling, I said ‘haute couture.’ Are you daft? What are these bargain bin table cloths doing here?” Ernesto began clapping his hands furiously at his staff, instructing them in some other language to destroy the offensive table cloths. Mackenzie
(
Read more... )