My wife and I attended a wedding yesterday. Thankfully, it wasn’t a southern-style affair. The reception didn’t take place at a VFW hall, and we didn’t have to bring our own beer. Instead, since the bride and groom hale from the north, they opted for a gala in the New York vein. I enjoyed the party, but I thought the marriage ceremony even more entertaining.
Like me, the groom is a lawyer. Pete and I met at bar luncheon five years ago, and we’ve been friends ever since. At some point, I told him about the practical joke Sophia and I had played on our audience when we married. He loved the idea of messing with his friends and family. Consequently, when he informed me of his engagement, he also sought my input for a prank he and his fiancé could play while exchanging their vows.
I told Pete about something I’d found on the internet. There’s an improvisational group which specializes in mass practical jokes, mostly in public places. When two of its members wed, they’d arranged for someone posing as a professional wrestler to crash the wedding ceremony. The officiant and groomsmen were in on the joke, but the entire audience remained ignorant. When the officiant asked the standard question whether anyone present knew a reason why the couple shouldn’t wed, the masked wrestler appeared, shouted his objection, and attacked. A staged melee ensued between the wedding party and the wrestler, replete with simulated eye gouging, punching, sleeper holds and chair smashing. Eventually, the groom conquered his foe, and the ceremony resumed with the official asking something along the lines of: “Does anyone else have an objection to the wedding?”
So happens, Pete’s a pro wrestling fan. He viewed the improv group’s video and loved it. With his fiancé’s approval, he implemented the same deception for their wedding ceremony.
The ceremony took place in a hotel ballroom. Similarly to the video, when the officiant asked whether anyone objected to the marriage, Pete’s masked buddy shouted from the rear of the room that the bride was his and that he’d “rip that thief limb from limb to get her!” He sprang at the groom and commenced a credible WWF-like free-for-all.
Alas, Pete had failed to account for the performance’s southern setting. In the improv group’s video, audience members at a New York wedding sat rooted in place, too stunned to intervene in the fracas. No guns entered the picture either. Here in Georgia, however, everyone and his mother own a firearm. And our lenient laws let almost any idiot obtain a permit to carry a concealed weapon.
Much to Pete’s surprise, not every member of his audience passively stood by during the battle. When his buddy grabbed a chair and appeared ready to strike with it, two native Georgians rose from their seats, pointed pistols drawn from concealed holsters at his head, and simultaneously instructed the assailant to drop the chair or they’d shoot. He dropped the chair … and, from the look of it, a load in his shorts as well!