VII. Polygaymous.

[maleficentia]

Well, color me a blushing bride, if you can. If anyone else has matrimonial inclinations towards yours truly, I suggest they get the burning secret off their chest as soon as possible, because the boat is leaving for Iceland post-haste (this means you, Georgia). At least, I think Prudence said Iceland. She's the globe-trotter, not I

Comments

[cygnard]

Can I be the bridesmaid?

[maleficentia]

I don't see why not. This is a joyous time, and all should be involved.

[cygnard]

Don't make me wear anything hideous. Ruffles to a minimum, if you please.

[maleficentia]

I'm leaving that planning to the women. Ergo, watch your sleeves.

[hatesbears]

I demand a glorious wedding present to surpass the ages.

[maleficentia]

Oh dear, and all I had planned was this stuffed bear's head. Pity.

[hatesbears]

Well. You KNOW what they say, "something old, something stuffed, something stitched, something with its head askew."

[maleficentia]

My, if I'd known those were the rules, I'd have gotten married years ago.

[cometospain]

My my. And last fall, I had almost thought myself too old to renew my passport.

[hatesbears]

Wait.

[hatesbears]

Fuck, NO.

[hatesbears]

No one said ANYTHING about bringing on the living dead.

[maleficentia]

My dear Watts, I'm only trying to get into heaven. Can't something be arranged?