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experience. Then Cedric shouted, “Thayne! Get your ass on the carpet! What’s taking so g-damn long?”
    â€œIs that man insane?” Rosimund fumed to her husband. “This is a holy occasion.”
    Lyman put aside his
Robb Report
devoted to motorcycles. “He’s working with raw recruits, darlin’. Cut him a little slack.” Lyman returned to the magazine.
    Thayne now paraded up the aisle and seated herself in the front row, bride’s side. She was breathless with excitement and had to restrain herself not to ask Cedric if she could try that once again, just to be sure she got it right.
    â€œRing bearer! Where’s the little prick?” Cedric barked into his bullhorn.
    â€œI just fired him,” Thayne called upstage.
    A voice across the aisle intoned, “You fired your own third cousin once removed?”
    â€œYes, Rosimund, I did.” Thayne returned her attention to Cedric. “Let’s keep moving.”
    â€œPages! Flower girl! Where’s the flower girl?”
    Back in the lobby, Kimberly roughly pushed little Arabella into the auditorium. Besides being saddled with the homeliest groomsman, Kimberly had just discovered that the cutest girl on earth, Lance’s wee sister, would be preceding her up the aisle. Rosimund had been rehearsing Arabella for months because this wedding was, in a sense, her daughter’s debut in society. Arabella instinctively rose to the occasion; when she dug her little gloved hand into her basket of rose petals and strewed them in the air, she could have stolen the show from Judy Garland, Shirley Temple, and the Olsen twins combined.
    â€œBridesmaid one! Come out!”
    Kimberly could only smile, pretend her escort was George Clooney, and concentrate on walking toward the stage at a steady twenty-two inches per second.
    â€œAre you intoxicated?” Woody whispered as they were halfway into the hall. “You seem to be having difficulty keeping to the middle of the aisle.”
    â€œShut up, you disgusting troll.”
    â€œI detect hostility in your voice, Kimberly. Are you unhappy with some element of your life?”
    â€œSilence,” shouted Cedric from a distance. “You’re not at the f-ing movies.”
    â€œWhere did you find that chimney sweep?” Rosimund asked Thayne in a stage whisper heard above the entire Dallas Symphony. “If he continues using such foul language, I will have no choice but to take Arabella home.”
    â€œCedric, please!” Thayne rasped. “Do dukes and duchesses talk like this?”
    â€œWhere do you think I learned it, madam? Attention! Rear of the hall! Where is the next pair of attendants?”
    That would be Cora, currently sharing her first kiss with partner Denny. They finally separated when Cedric threatened to perform an instant clitorectomy with the Leatherman in his pocket.
    â€œThayne, really,” Rosimund reprimanded. “You must dismiss that beast at once.”
    â€œAnd replace him with?”
    â€œWe know several generals at Fort Hood. Any or all could be here within the hour.”
    â€œThis is Dallas, not Baghdad. Continue, Cedric. Please temper your language.”
    Cedric continued to issue marching orders amid avalanches of shocking profanity. Unable to stand it anymore, the Reverend Alcott finally tore the bullhorn from Cedric’s mouth and stomped it to an electronic pancake, to show Cedric what would happen to him in the afterlife if he continued using F, G, and C words. He then held Cedric in a viselike grip and commenced quite a long private prayer that was broadcast throughout the auditorium thanks to the microphone on his lapel.
    Cedric finally broke loose. He was pleased to see that the entire bridal party had arrived during the Reverend Alcott’s tête-à-tête with the Almighty. “Pippa! Up the aisle!” he shouted.
    As the orchestra surged into Mendelssohn’s “Wedding