Not The Royal Wedding.

Now I have been known to play computer games. What you may ask has this got to do with the Royal Wedding? Well, nothing actually, except I happen to frequent a game related website called The Hampshire Heavies and back in 2008, I had the honour of being best man at my brothers wedding. Now this was a big and confusing thing to do, even for a man of the world like me. So I thought what better idea than to ask a load of oddball characters who play computer games for advice.

It worked so well, the advice to drink loads, get a blow-up sex doll and bring a wild monkey were sublime and worked so well.

I shared with them the most spectacular result at the time and repeat fees permitting, I share once again:

I would like to thank you all for your advice regarding by role as Best Man, and therefore I thought that I would give you a little run down regarding the events of the day.
The actual ceremony went smoothly and without problem, other than the small matter of the rings being forgotten, but this hardly needs mentioning.
The advice of this forum kicked in as soon as everyone had gathered at the Reception. As advised by the majority of members, I partaked in the taking of various alcoholic beverages upon arrival, and this heightened the senses in a much different manner.
I had arranged delivery of the “wild” monkey by a confidant of mine, and he had been good as his word and arrived in an appropriate timescale. Said monkey was still contained within its cage, and I had been correctly advised that this was best method.
I had had some entertaining time the previous afternoon, equipping the monkey with its attire. However I have to say that the suit I had acquired from Burton’s was very fetching.
The fez however was a different matter. When I had last seen the “wild” monkey earlier that morning, it had looked smart to say the least.
Since that time however, the worse had happened, and let us just say, the “wild” monkey had “nibbled” upon the head adornment and leave it at that.
While dressed in his suit he may have looked smart, since being advised to “rattle his cage”, the noise the “wild” monkey was making had taken a somewhat turn for the worse.
However the guests were impressed, and took great glee in antagonising the simian further.
The greased blow-up doll was sadly less successful, as Uncle Charlie, who had drunk only slightly less than I, broke his hip as he slipped off the doll after trying to show everyone he was still fit enough to do some mounting.
It was at this time that I adjourned to the bathroom to take the narcotics that I had also been well advised to take.
These worked wonders, and it was little short of ten minutes before I had been heartily slapped by two of the bridesmaids, the brides mother, the bride and finally the six foot five inch Scottish barman. Reasons for being slapped by the barman I would rather not discuss, but I am happy to say all other slaps were genuinely received, and despite the slapping, heartily enjoyed.
After a short time the meal was ready to be eaten, and despite bringing a great part of it back, over among others; the bride, the groom, the bride’s father and finally the six foot five inch Scottish barman, as he tried to get me into the pubs garden, I greatly enjoyed the meal.
After my insides had finally decided to stay inside, it was time for the speech.
For this I had taken great advice from the forum, and my opening line of:
“Nice to see you, to see you. How’s about that then, didn’t they do well, now I’m in charge” was greeted with the kind of applause little seen this side of Kettering.
I engaged in several anecdotal tales which endeared me greatly to those gathered in the room, judging by the interesting noises being emitted by the guests.
I gathered myself for the toast, and there was a cacophonous sound of clinking glasses, which in my fragile state, was to slightly say, unpleasant.
Likewise the “wild” monkey was not impressed, judging by his increasing expenditure of noise.
Finally I closed my speech with the immortal words:
“You were so much better than last week’s audience”.
This final fling brought the house down, or let’s just say, the monkey did, as it sprang from its cage and started swinging from the light fittings.
Little of what followed I can fully appreciated. I do have memories of the monkey, which I can now safely say was wild, mounting several of the lady guests, and in true Victor Meldrew style at least one of the men.
Not unduly I suspect I have been blamed for much of what happened during this glorious event, and my final true memory of the events are of breaking free of the hold of the six foot five inch Scottish barman, and planting a proud and most glorious right hook across the face of the bride’s mother.
I have to say, I have much to be proud of…