Fifty Bucks Well-Earned, Almost

As Marge walked down the long aisle she looked up to see the groom, who was standing, smiling at the end of the aisle. Immediately saying yes when he had proposed, she could not wait to be married, especially to the man of her dreams. Waiting at the end of the aisle, Frank stood nervously. He had been waiting for this moment all his life, and he could not believe it was already upon him. He felt like jelly. In the first row, the mothers were clutching their tissues and bawling boomingly into them as Marge passed.

Meanwhile, Francis was standing in the lobby, ready to enter behind Marge. On a pillow next to him, lay the wedding rings, small and gold. He did not want his sister to be married because he didn’t much care for Frank, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Picking up the rings and starting slowly into the aisle, he realized that if he didn’t want his sister to be married he would have to act immediately or forever hold his peace. Quickly, he shoved them up his nose. “This will stop the wedding for sure,” thought Francis as he followed Marge.

When he reached the end of the row, the preacher looked down at the pillow and then at Francis. “Where are they?” he asked. “I don’t know,” replied Francis innocently as he sucked them farther up his nose. “Do you have a cold my dear bo--HOLY CRAP! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOUR FACE!” screeched the preacher, finally noticing Francis’ bulging nostrils. Digging up his nose with his finger, Francis pulled out the rings, which were covered in snot, spit on them to rinse off the mucus, and handed them to the shocked preacher. On this note, the preacher quickly married the couple. Gloomily searching for his parents, Francis finally found his father, who took the pillow from him as he said, “If your plan had worked, I would have paid you a well-earned fifty bucks.”