Stop That Wedding - 5/25

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Stop That Wedding - 5/25

Postby Brian » Tue May 25, 2010 3:52 am

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Stop That Wedding - 5/25

Postby Brian » Tue May 25, 2010 3:52 am

The love of your life is getting married to someone else. In a last-ditch attempt to win the love of your life back, you bust into the wedding and profess your love mid-ceremony. Start your story with the line, "Don't say yes!"

You can post your response (750 words or fewer) here.

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Re: Stop That Wedding - 5/25

Postby knob » Tue May 25, 2010 6:59 am

“Don’t say yes!” I yelled, running up the aisle. “Wanda, we made a promise! Charleston, Wanda! Don’t you remember Charleston?”

Wanda really was about to say yes. Her mouth was open and her teeth were exposed the way they are when you make the Y sound. I think she actually said, “Yeeeee” before she clamped her mouth shut. I trotted to a halt somewhere between the third and fourth rows, and bent over to catch my breath.

Then Wanda screeched, “Lewis!” and ran off the podium to jump into my arms. Everyone else stood up, too, and man, we were surrounded by well-wishers that day. I got more back slaps than when they pulled me out of the river. Willard walked up in his fine tux and gave me a bear hug, never mind that he was about to marry my girl, he was my best friend first and foremost.

We practically floated back onto the podium, and this time Wanda was saying yes to me, and Willard was my best man. We ran out the doors in a hail of rice and we got into the big limo, and we went off to Cancun to honeymoon in style. I told Wanda everything—the bridge, the counteragents, the bomb, the Ukrainians—the whole bit. I let her find the bullet holes herself. She cried some, she laughed some. She held me when I cried out in the night.

We settled into a fine little house with a white picket fence and flowers in the windowsills. The kids came along—handsome George first, the football star at high school and the congressman later. Beautiful Tricia, who won beauty pageants and went on to anchor a major news show. And quirky Benjamin, who spent his childhood killing bugs, but who went on to become a critically acclaimed screenwriter. We loved them desperately. They were the pride of the whole town. One by one they returned, and Willard, and later his son, presented them with keys to the city. Then they returned again, this time with our grandkids, whom we adored and spoiled shamelessly.

Then there was that night with dogs barking at fireflies, and Wanda and me relaxing on the porch swing, when Wanda put her hand on my knee and said, “Lewis, was Charleston you and me?”

“I don’t remember,” I admitted, after a long pause.

“I think that was Willard,” she said. “I think I was just so happy to see you alive. We all thought you had died.”

“What was Charleston, then?” I asked.

“A promise,” she said. “I’ve wondered and wondered why it was you that brought it up, the day we got married.”

“What was the promise?”

“Oh, it was just a promise that young lovers make,” she said. “We were teenagers, for goodness sake.” She was silent for a long time, the crickets chirping in the moonlight. “Oh, Lewis, was it really Willard?”

I’d been thinking of what the Ukrainians could have done to me. There were those lost months. They were like a hot, black hole in my mind. I’d never have them back. There was only what I heard in my dreams—a low, rough voice speaking slowly to me. Words I could never understand, but always made me cry out as I awoke. “Does it really matter now?” I asked.

She sat back. “You’re absolutely right, dear. Let’s forget about it once and for all.”

I nodded. “Let’s forget Charleston,” I said.

Of course, that was the second keyword. I understand that now. Wanda stood up when I said that, with a strange look on her face. She walked back into the house. I followed her in after a minute, and she was on the phone, whispering something. Some phrase, repeating it. I looked at the call log later. She had been talking to Willard.

They put me on the task force to stop them. After all, I know Wanda better than anybody. She and Willard haven’t done anything yet. They’re elusive. We have occasional contact. I talk and I talk to her. She asks me how the grandkids are. They’ve got special psychs working with me, trying to dredge up what the Ukrainians told me. After all, I’m some kind of activation device. They’ve got the recording of Wanda’s phone call to Willard. She was saying, “Do say yes. Do say yes.”

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Re: Stop That Wedding - 5/25

Postby acompton9KY » Tue May 25, 2010 11:43 am

"Don't say yes! You can't," I scream. The surprised look on both of their faces was almost comical, if the situation had not been so dire. "You love me, and you know it, " I breathlessly blurted out.
" Who do you think you..." the short, blonde began with her hands on hips. Bryan stood there, redfaced glancing between our faces.
"You need to leave, Carla. This is not the time...." he was fumbling to find a way out of the obviously uncomfortable confrontation. Bryan had always hated confrontation. I on the other hand relished it...thrived on it...needed it. Confrontation is a way to force situations to be rectified. Like now.
"Of course it is the time. When would be a better time? When you are already married? After you have had children? Tell her. Tell her you love me. Tell her you kissed me on the day you asked her! Tell her we slept together!" I demanded. I knew it was a risk. But I had to give it a shot.
"You kissed her?!" the blonde diva asked disgustedly. "You, you.....bastard!"
"I, uh, I...." and there he stood. He was at a loss. The little slut threw her bouquet at him, as she brushed past me on her way out the door.
Defeated, Bryan hung his head low. He kicked the old wooden courthouse chair. The aged judge stood there awkwardly, then realizing he needed to exit, scratched his head, mumbling,"Damn kids...." and shuffled out of the room.
Angrily he turned toward me, and stared. He was searching for the right words, but was so overwhelmed with anger, confusion, and love for this crazy woman in front of him. Perhaps he thought about sweeping me into his arms.
"Why? You ended things. I didnt. You walked out on me. I didnt. Now, when I have a chance to start over, you do this. Why?"
Those words resonated in the air for what seemed an eternity. Why? That was a good question. A great one really. One for which I had an abundance of answers. I could tell him the truth. I am a possessive, selfish nut who cannot stand the thought of another woman having a life with him. I could tell him I hated that bitch he cheated on me with and it served her right. I could tell him that I needed him desperately no matter what he had done. All of these things would be true.
But a familiar friend emerged just in time to save me from such humiliation. Just in the knick of time, before the words came tumbling out, Pride stood between he and I with its hands in front of my mouth in the "halt!" position. Coming back to my senses, I readjust my posture, throw my head back and sneer at this man who has caused me so much pleasure and pain, all at the same time. I had finally had my revenge. Yes, I loved him. But more than that, I hated him.
"My work here is done. Have a nice life, prick!" as I storm out the wooden door with as dramatic a slam as that blonde slut. Bryan was left standing there in the courthouse, alone. Poetic justice.

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Re: Stop That Wedding - 5/25

Postby isaiahman » Tue May 25, 2010 5:13 pm

“Don’t say yes!” I screamed as I came barrelling through the chapel doors, which were covered with hearts and velvet spades. The Elvis impersonator stopped mid sentence, and the couple turned to stare at me. I should have been more prepared.

I’d only known her for an hour. She’d come into O’Kelley’s, the bar I work, and she was nice. I don’t usually see nice in there. We get pimps and whores, some bums and some hard ups; a lot of hardups, actually.

That’s the way it is in this city, things can turn on a dime.

So, anyway, she came in and ordered a beer, and we talked, which was nice. Her name was Mary. I told her all the best stories I’d heard in my fifty years in this city. She told me about her dogs back in Iowa, and her job as a stenographer. I’d never wanted to visit Iowa before, but, like I said, things can change around here.

After a bit, in walked this guy, I guess her boyfriend. He was a dirtbag, trust me. I can spot one within five seconds. He was already drunk, so I had no use for him, and he was flashing greens. I guess he beat the table at Caeser’s.

He came up, grabbed Mary and stuck his tongue down her throat. She looked excited about the money, but a little embarrassed, too. He threw some money on my bar, then told her they were gonna get married. She squealed, but gave me a panicked look. Then they left.

Some of the dirtbags sitting around snickered after they went. That’s all I ever get in there, dirtbags.

I started wiping the counter. She hadn’t finished her drink, so I drank it when nobody was looking. After a little while, I poured myself another. I figured, at least she’d be happily married. Might as well drink to it.

My buddy Tony came up to me, said I didn’t look so good. I told him I needed a smoke, so he watched the bar. I went outside and jumped in my truck and started driving.

I don’t know how many wedding chapels there are in this city, maybe a million. I went to a few of them, but since I didn’t know the dirtbag’s name, they couldn’t help me much. I finally wound up at the Hunka Burnin’ Love Chapel.

I told the front desk that I was looking for a girl named Mary from Iowa, a nice girl with a lucky dirtbag. They knew who I was talking about and pointed me to the doors. I took a couple seconds to listen, and they were doing the vows, so I busted in.

The dirtbag asked Mary who I was, she smiled and told him I was her favorite bartender. I figured that gave me some room to talk.

So I said, “You just can’t. You can’t say yes to this guy. He’s a dirtbag, and you’re good. Too good for him. You don’t deserve to be bought in a bar, I know plenty of those girls, and you ain’t one of ‘em.

“Nope, you’’re a stenographer. And you like dogs, and you keep them back home in Iowa. And that’s about all I know about you, but I’ll never forget it, till the day I die. And if you tell me anything else, your birthday, or your favorite dessert, I swear to God I’ll remember it. Cause you’re a nice lady.

“I don’t deserve you, I know that. But this dirtbag doesn’t either, ever. So don’t do it, Mary. Don’t say yes to him.”

She looked at me, then looked at him. She chewed on her lip a little, then smiled. She handed him her little bouquet, then walked to me and grabbed my arm. She looked in my eyes and said, “Ok.”

So, that’s why I’m moving to Iowa.

Things can turn on a dime in this city.

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Re: Stop That Wedding - 5/25

Postby hobbyist » Tue May 25, 2010 10:18 pm

I love it, isaiahman. Don't stop posting, and I won't stop reading!

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RE: Stop That Wedding - 5/25

Postby Phoenix_Child » Wed May 26, 2010 9:02 am

“Don’t say yes!” I yelled, bursting through the cathedral doors.
“What? Darrin?!” Natasha gasped.
I begin to walk up to Natasha feeling the weight and power of the room full of people’s eyes on me.
Natasha began to speak. “Darrin, what are you doing here?”
“I came to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”
“Darrin, what are you doing?” The groom, Nathaniel, spoke up. “You know that it’s useless. I’ve won the battle; I’m soon to win the war.”
My nostrils flared and air hissed from my mouth. “Nathan, you sick, twisted bastard.” I swung my fist to knock him down good, but Tash, always the quickest, grabbed my wrist and threw it back at me.
“Darrin!” Natasha growled. “What is all this about.”
“Tash, I love you!” I grabbed her hands firmly in mine. “Can’t you see that?”
“You love me?” she wretched her hands away. “Then why are you just saying that now that I’ve moved on?”
“Moved on...?” I whimpered.
“Yes!” Nathan burst out. “She’s moved on to bigger, better, richer men. Not little boys that can’t keep a stable job.”
“You don’t know anything about me, Nate!” I roared.
I lunged for his throat and Tash quickly slid between us and grabbed my wrists tightly. “Darrin, stop.”
“Get out of my way, Tash; I have to finish this before it goes any farther.” I slipped out of her wrists and jabbed toward Nate, who was very ready for me.
Then we began to brawl.
I hear a loud, angry yell. I stop mid punch and look over at a very, very angry Tash.
“You two stop right now,” Natasha screeched.
Nathan and I looked at each other for a few seconds before we untangled ourselves and stood apart from each other. Tash made sure to stand between them and become the medium.
“You.” She spoke to me. “Speak up.”
“Tash, I tried to contact you, visit you, and find you, HE was always there in my way, keeping me away from you! I have tried so hard these last few months.”
She seemed to mull over this for a bit before she turned to Nathan. “Talk.”
“Natasha, don’t you remember the last few months that we’ve had together? I gave you everything that I woman could ever want, all of the riches that money can buy. Now I want to make you my wife. What else in the world could possibly make you any happier?” Nathan said every word in the smooth, sickening voice of his that most girls grumble when they hear.
Natasha thought over that too, and then began to walk back up to the altar.
“Wait, Tash.” I spoke up.
She looked at me sadly.
“After all that we’ve been through, shared, all the love that we felt. You’re willing to give it all up and go to him?” I cried. It was my last weak resort. If she still went to him, it was all over for me.
She took a deep breath, fighting back tears that still managed to escape and stain her horrible white gown that I knew she hated.
“And what about that gown?” I started. “White? I thought that you were into the slim black dresses. I guess that I was wrong.” I turned to the people watching us. “Where are your friends? Daisy, Raven, Iliana, Star, Shelly, and Erey? I’m sure that they would want to be here.” That was my last resort.
Natasha laughed to herself and in a small movement, slipped behind Nathan.
“You fool. She doesn’t need any of those people; they don’t have anything to offer her—” he stopped mid-sentence after there was a hollow “thunk”, and his eyes glazed over and he fell to his knees, then on his face.
Natasha stood behind him with a vase in hand and a smile plastered on her face. “I’m not materialistic, or shallow, but you head sure is.” She giggled.
I smiled up at her.
“What?” She said innocently. “I would rather be rich in friendship than in money.”
With a shrill squeak, she hopped down from the altar and into my arms, where she belonged.
“I want a black dress.” She told me as I carried her out of the cathedral, and for some reason, the crowd cheered.
The End

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Re: Stop That Wedding - 5/25

Postby ponzu » Wed May 26, 2010 6:49 pm

“Don’t say yes!” I shout, running up the aisle.

Guests rise to their feet, wondering what is happening. Some of them know me and scowl in my direction. Nobody wanted Aaron and I to date. His family hates me. My family hates him. Our friends don’t get along. It doesn’t matter. Aaron is the man for me, and I will do whatever it takes to get him back.

I approach the alter only to see my friend Connie ... in a bride’s maid dress. I can’t believe my eyes. I feel so betrayed, but there is no time to deal with her now. Turning to Becky, I ask, “Did you know that today is my birthday? Every anniversary will be a remembrance of me.”

Becky looks at Aaron, stunned. “Is this true?” she asks. Aaron only looks down and shake his head yes. He won’t meet her eyes.

I am surprised by the look of burning hatred in Aaron’s eyes when he turns to me. Speaking of burning, I smell something burning.

Becky’s bouquet has a lit candle in the center of the flowers. Her hair has fallen into the candle and is now smoldering. As people in the front row realize what is happening, snickers begin to echo in the chapel. Aaron and Connie are patting at Becky’s hair trying to put it out. Out of nowhere, Jack rushes in with a vase full of water and throws it on Becky. Her hair and wedding gown are now drenched. But hey, at least the fire is out.

Camille, Aaron’s 14 year old sister, is one of the bride’s maids. She is propping herself up on the railing to the choir box as she laughs hysterically. Suddenly, she gets a surprised look on her face and a pucker to her lips. As the smell of urine mixes with the smell of burnt hair, it becomes evident that Camille has peed her pants.

Becky is now balling. Her mother and Connie are trying to console her. Camille’s mother is dragging her towards the rest room to try and salvage her pee stained dress. And Aaron has a death grip on my arm as he drags me back down the aisle and out the front doors of the church.

“How could you?” he screams at me.

“How could I?,” I yell. “How could you? We were just together two weeks ago. Did you forget you promised we would be together tonight for my birthday? How were you planning on pulling that off?”

“I wasn’t. Don’t you get it? I am with Becky now. I am marrying her ... today. Or at least I was until you showed up and ruined everything,” he answers.

“I didn’t hear you say you loved her,” I say. “OK, answer me this, why are you with her? She is my height, has my hair color and style. She looks like me except not as pretty. Why would you want a poor substitute when you can have the real thing?”

Aaron sighs and turns away from me. With his back to me, he responds, “Dad.”

“Your dad is behind this? I thought our parents’ opinions didn’t matter. All that matters is that we love each other,” I remind him.

“Dad threatened to fire me and cut me out of the will. I would have nothing,” he says.

“You would have me.”

“Love doesn’t pay the bills. It doesn’t buy the groceries or put gas in the car. How would we live?”

“We would find a way. It’s not too late. Run away with me, right now. Let’s just hop in my car and not look back,” I beg.

Aaron takes me in his arms and kisses me passionately. I feel all of his love pouring into me. Then he abruptly stops and pushes me away to arms length. He says, “It just wouldn’t work out.” Without another word, he walks back inside, leaving me alone on the steps.

I feel like my heart has just been ripped out of my chest. I feel like I am going to die. This can’t be happening. How can he just leave me standing here like this? A light bulb goes off over my head as I realize that he never really loved me. I am such a fool.

I get in my car and drive away. I don’t stop driving until I run out of gas in Galveston, Texas. This will be a good place to start over.

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RE: Stop That Wedding - 5/25

Postby Mokso » Wed May 26, 2010 8:37 pm

"Don't say yes" I say just as Lana is about to say “I do”.

My heart is trying to burst out of the very expensive bridesmaids dress Lana got for me. Behind me, Carrie is groaning and muttering how she should have been the maid of honour, because she knew I wouldn’t be able to give up on Lana.

Lana turns to look at me smiling that crooked smile that always makes me want to cover her face with kisses.

“Bad timing sweetie. I’m kind of busy here.” On her other side Freddie is starting to get curious as to what’s with the holdup. He hisses a question I can’t hear and Lana waves it away.

“You can’t marry him. Don’t say yes.” I repeat.

This is the moment Lana’s mother understands what’s going on and bustles over to make sure it stops.

“Listen to me young lady, don’t you do this. Not now, not here, not ever. She’s going to get married to a nice young man and give me grandchildren like a good girl should regardless of what you say. I knew it was a mistake allowing you to be a part of this wedding.”

I ignore Maria, look Lana in the eyes as I take her hand.

“I know I can’t give you children the way he can, I know I can’t give you the life he can. But I’ve got something he doesn’t; I get you. You know I do. I understand your weird and dimwitted jokes. He will never understand or know you the way I do, even if he gets his head out of his arse for long enough to try. Which he probably won’t. I know when you’re picking a fight to make yourself feel better. And I know how to make you feel better. I know every line of your face and I want to take my whole life to get to know the ones that will appear. I love you the way he can never love you.”

A single tear rolls down her cheek as the minister starts catching on what’s going on.

“You don’t know what you’re saying girl. What you’re talking about is an abomination to the Lord. You shouldn’t talk about such things in a church.”

“I shouldn’t talk about love? Commitment? I’m talking about the kind of love that will be there through the good times as well as the bad. Why is it an abomination if two people love each other and want to spend the whole of their lives together? What he’s committing to is love until he gets bored.”

Freddie says something like an objection but I don’t care. The preacherman stares in horrified fascination as I turn back to Lana.

“Please, I love you. I want to stay with you all my life, make a home together. I want to die on the same day as you do, so that not a day goes by that I can’t be with you.”

Another tear leaves her perfect blue eyes as she takes her hand from mine and looks from me to Freddie to her mom to the preacher and finally back to me.

“But what about children? I want to have children of my own.”

“We’ll work it out somehow, you know we will.” My voice is cracking, she has to see it. I have to be with her.
She turns to me and whispers one word “yes.”

I’m surprised and elated by the sound. I offer my hand to her and she takes it now starting to smile. I take a few hesitant steps towards the door at the end of the aisle. When I feel her following, I take faster and faster steps, until we’re both running away from the life that could have been towards the life that will be. The daylight nearly blinds us as we get outside and I wrap my arms around her and drown myself in her kiss.

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Re: Stop That Wedding - 5/25

Postby knob » Thu May 27, 2010 8:44 am

I am interested in what anybody thinks of mine. I've been trying out different styles on this board and am wondering if this one resonates at all.

Ponzu, I love the characters in yours.


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