Sunday Afternoon: The Church
The amount of flowers set up at the church could have filled a small warehouse. Their fragrance was practically dizzying and yet he stood at the end of the aisle in front of all their friends.
He looked down the aisle and smiled. A few more minutes and Charlotte would be his. Forever.
Charlotte paced back and forth at the other end of the church, still hidden away, clutching her bouquet of blue and pink roses and baby's breath, trying to keep her breathing good and calm. This was it; it was really, really it! In just a few seconds, she'd be walking down the aisle and it was just...perfect. Everything. It didn't even matter that it had happened in a whirlwind; she'd even been able to find the perfect dress in a matter of moments, the flowers, the music. And the church here was so beautiful, too, quaint and picturesque, and, of course, the groom! Who cared about his questionable past? Really, she didn't understand why she'd even made such a big deal about it, because what better definition of a white knight did she need than the most incredible man showing up at just the right mome--
Charlotte gasped as the first few notes of the music started to play. She closed her eyes to calm herself down, smoothing out her dress, but she couldn't restrain the smile on her face as, beaming brightly, she started toward the altar.
He stood at the end of the aisle, his grin getting bigger and more malevolent. It was so simple. So easy. He wasn't sure why he hadn't thought of it before.
He greeted her at the end of the aisle with a small grin and reached up to help pull the veil back so he could see his blushing bride.
It was all too easy.
"Mawidge...mawidge is what bwings us togewer today..." said the impressive looking clergyman at the altar.
His speech impediment could stop a clock. "Mawidge, the bwessed awwangement, that dweam wiffim a dweam..."
He gave the couple in front of him a toothy grin.
"Wuv, twoo wuv, wiw fowwow you fowever... so tweasuwe your vruv. Keep it cwose and chewish it. Fowever."
He turned to Charlotte
"Chawotte Pewsphone Mawie Dawn Yowk. Do woo take whis man twoo be youw wafuwwy wedded husband?"
The only hesitation that came from Charlotte was simply just so she could catch her breath. "I do!" she gushed, head spinning with elation. Not even a speech impediment could make her falter now.
The clergyman turned to look at Dale and smiled. "And do woo Dale Coopew take this woman twoo be your wafuwwy wedded wife?"
He turned and smiled, reaching out for Charlotte's hands.
"I do."
The clergyman turned to the congregation. "If thewe is anyone hewe who knows why these twoo people should not be mawwied pwease speak now or foewew howd youw peace."
The doors to the church burst open and a man who looked remarkably like the groom (Only dressed in rags) marched into the church.
"STOP THIS MARRIAGE NOW!" he shouted. "Charlotte! Stop! He's not who you think he is!"
"Oh, deaw. This wooks messy."
Charlotte was almost certain that her heart had stopped the moment she heard a voice rise up in objection to the marriage; who did that? No one ever really objected to the marriage. She gasped, dreading to even look and see who would be against such a perfect union, and turned her head. And could only gasp again.
"W...what...?" she could barely get the words out of her mouth, and her attention shifted toward who she thought was Dale up in front of the alter with her, searching his face for some kind of explanation as to what was happening here.
"He's an imposter!" the groom declared. "Somebody call the police and get this vagabond out of here!"
"No, he's the imposter!" the other man declared. "He attacked me and tied me up in an abandoned warehouse! He's not Dale Cooper, Charlotte! He's..."
He paused for dramatic effect. It's important to have such pauses in a situation like this. In fact, to do it right you really need to milk it for all its worth.
I mean REALLY milk it.
Milk it like it's never been milked before.
"He's... Trey MacDougal."
"I'm not Trey," the groom said sternly and reaching out for Charlotte. "I'm Dale Cooper. Don't listen to him Charlotte. Clearly he's deranged."
Charlotte took a wide step back, her head swimming in a new direction, this time not in the direction of elation and bliss, but in the direction of confusion and distress. "But...Trey!" She said the word with utter disbelief, her eyes flitting between the two similarly looking men as though not sure which to address. "I...I thought you were in Scotland! How...?"
"He came back for you," the man in rags said coming closer. "He heard of your relationship with me and decided to use it to trick you back with him. He colored his hair and had botox done to look younger. He jumped me and took away my clothes and my identity to carry it off"
"Preposterous!" the groom declared. "Obviously this is a story the real Trey MacDougal came up with when he heard you were marrying me!"
For a moment, Charlotte's mouth gaped open and closed, like a fish, not knowing what in the world to believe. If you asked her, both stories sounded so preposterous that...
...that one of them obviously had to be true! "Oh, no!" she gasped, dropping her bouquet at her feet so that both hands could cover her mouth in shock. Her eyes danced between the two men, trying to discern which might be the real Dale and which was Trey, and half of all she could think of was, whoever was Trey, they had an amazing plastic surgeon.
"What should I do?" she commiserated out loud.
"Pewhaps we should twy asking a question that the twoo Dale Coopew would know?" the befuddled yet still impressive clergyman suggestded.
"Excellent idea," Dale said straightening up and adjusting his rags. "Go ahead Charlotte. Ask away."
"This is ridiculous," the groom said. "Do you really want to go back to a marriage with him? With his "difficulties" in bed and his reluctance to adopt or try invitro?"
"And thinking cardboard babies are funny and horrible mother issues," added Charlotte, "of course not! Why would I--?"
And then, suddenly, she realized who she was supposedly talking to and marrying and she cut herself off with another gasp. "Wait a minute! I never told you any of that before, Dale! How would you know any of that?"
The groom-who-is-not-Dale-but-really-Trey took a step back, his eyes wide. "You... You never..."
And the real Dale stepped forward with a sinister look on his face. "No," he said and punctuated that with a roundhouse punch to the face. "She didn't."
Charlotte let out a little scream at the punch; she couldn't help it, stepping back with hands held in suspense to her beating chest. "Ohmygod, Dale!" she gasped. "Be careful!"
Trey flew backwards, hitting his head against the altar.
He slumped to the ground rubbing his head. "What? What happened? Where am I.... Who am I?"
Because of course Trey now has amnesia.
"No one of consequence," Dale snapped and turned to Ralph. Because damn it, Troopers love a good wedding. "Throw this man off the island. I never want to see him again."
And as Dale turned to Charlotte, his expression changed to one of concern.
"Oh Charlotte," Dale said quietly. "Are you okay?"
"Oh, Dale!" Charlotte, without any doubt at all that she'd chosen the right man, for realsies this time, rushed forward and into his arms to kiss him in overflowing adoration and gratitude.
The embrace and kiss were returned with gusto, his memories of kidnapping and imprisonment abating. "Come with me, Charlotte," Dale said looking deep into her eyes. "Let's get away from that imposter and get a nice cup of coffee."
[ooc: Preplayed with the phenomenal perfectmissyork. All of Fandom magically got invitations so they could attend at a moments notice because it's SOW and dan it it's possible that way. IC/OCD reaction threads coming up are up!]
He looked down the aisle and smiled. A few more minutes and Charlotte would be his. Forever.
Charlotte paced back and forth at the other end of the church, still hidden away, clutching her bouquet of blue and pink roses and baby's breath, trying to keep her breathing good and calm. This was it; it was really, really it! In just a few seconds, she'd be walking down the aisle and it was just...perfect. Everything. It didn't even matter that it had happened in a whirlwind; she'd even been able to find the perfect dress in a matter of moments, the flowers, the music. And the church here was so beautiful, too, quaint and picturesque, and, of course, the groom! Who cared about his questionable past? Really, she didn't understand why she'd even made such a big deal about it, because what better definition of a white knight did she need than the most incredible man showing up at just the right mome--
Charlotte gasped as the first few notes of the music started to play. She closed her eyes to calm herself down, smoothing out her dress, but she couldn't restrain the smile on her face as, beaming brightly, she started toward the altar.
He stood at the end of the aisle, his grin getting bigger and more malevolent. It was so simple. So easy. He wasn't sure why he hadn't thought of it before.
He greeted her at the end of the aisle with a small grin and reached up to help pull the veil back so he could see his blushing bride.
It was all too easy.
"Mawidge...mawidge is what bwings us togewer today..." said the impressive looking clergyman at the altar.
His speech impediment could stop a clock. "Mawidge, the bwessed awwangement, that dweam wiffim a dweam..."
He gave the couple in front of him a toothy grin.
"Wuv, twoo wuv, wiw fowwow you fowever... so tweasuwe your vruv. Keep it cwose and chewish it. Fowever."
He turned to Charlotte
"Chawotte Pewsphone Mawie Dawn Yowk. Do woo take whis man twoo be youw wafuwwy wedded husband?"
The only hesitation that came from Charlotte was simply just so she could catch her breath. "I do!" she gushed, head spinning with elation. Not even a speech impediment could make her falter now.
The clergyman turned to look at Dale and smiled. "And do woo Dale Coopew take this woman twoo be your wafuwwy wedded wife?"
He turned and smiled, reaching out for Charlotte's hands.
"I do."
The clergyman turned to the congregation. "If thewe is anyone hewe who knows why these twoo people should not be mawwied pwease speak now or foewew howd youw peace."
The doors to the church burst open and a man who looked remarkably like the groom (Only dressed in rags) marched into the church.
"STOP THIS MARRIAGE NOW!" he shouted. "Charlotte! Stop! He's not who you think he is!"
"Oh, deaw. This wooks messy."
Charlotte was almost certain that her heart had stopped the moment she heard a voice rise up in objection to the marriage; who did that? No one ever really objected to the marriage. She gasped, dreading to even look and see who would be against such a perfect union, and turned her head. And could only gasp again.
"W...what...?" she could barely get the words out of her mouth, and her attention shifted toward who she thought was Dale up in front of the alter with her, searching his face for some kind of explanation as to what was happening here.
"He's an imposter!" the groom declared. "Somebody call the police and get this vagabond out of here!"
"No, he's the imposter!" the other man declared. "He attacked me and tied me up in an abandoned warehouse! He's not Dale Cooper, Charlotte! He's..."
He paused for dramatic effect. It's important to have such pauses in a situation like this. In fact, to do it right you really need to milk it for all its worth.
I mean REALLY milk it.
Milk it like it's never been milked before.
"He's... Trey MacDougal."
"I'm not Trey," the groom said sternly and reaching out for Charlotte. "I'm Dale Cooper. Don't listen to him Charlotte. Clearly he's deranged."
Charlotte took a wide step back, her head swimming in a new direction, this time not in the direction of elation and bliss, but in the direction of confusion and distress. "But...Trey!" She said the word with utter disbelief, her eyes flitting between the two similarly looking men as though not sure which to address. "I...I thought you were in Scotland! How...?"
"He came back for you," the man in rags said coming closer. "He heard of your relationship with me and decided to use it to trick you back with him. He colored his hair and had botox done to look younger. He jumped me and took away my clothes and my identity to carry it off"
"Preposterous!" the groom declared. "Obviously this is a story the real Trey MacDougal came up with when he heard you were marrying me!"
For a moment, Charlotte's mouth gaped open and closed, like a fish, not knowing what in the world to believe. If you asked her, both stories sounded so preposterous that...
...that one of them obviously had to be true! "Oh, no!" she gasped, dropping her bouquet at her feet so that both hands could cover her mouth in shock. Her eyes danced between the two men, trying to discern which might be the real Dale and which was Trey, and half of all she could think of was, whoever was Trey, they had an amazing plastic surgeon.
"What should I do?" she commiserated out loud.
"Pewhaps we should twy asking a question that the twoo Dale Coopew would know?" the befuddled yet still impressive clergyman suggestded.
"Excellent idea," Dale said straightening up and adjusting his rags. "Go ahead Charlotte. Ask away."
"This is ridiculous," the groom said. "Do you really want to go back to a marriage with him? With his "difficulties" in bed and his reluctance to adopt or try invitro?"
"And thinking cardboard babies are funny and horrible mother issues," added Charlotte, "of course not! Why would I--?"
And then, suddenly, she realized who she was supposedly talking to and marrying and she cut herself off with another gasp. "Wait a minute! I never told you any of that before, Dale! How would you know any of that?"
The groom-who-is-not-Dale-but-really-Trey took a step back, his eyes wide. "You... You never..."
And the real Dale stepped forward with a sinister look on his face. "No," he said and punctuated that with a roundhouse punch to the face. "She didn't."
Charlotte let out a little scream at the punch; she couldn't help it, stepping back with hands held in suspense to her beating chest. "Ohmygod, Dale!" she gasped. "Be careful!"
Trey flew backwards, hitting his head against the altar.
He slumped to the ground rubbing his head. "What? What happened? Where am I.... Who am I?"
Because of course Trey now has amnesia.
"No one of consequence," Dale snapped and turned to Ralph. Because damn it, Troopers love a good wedding. "Throw this man off the island. I never want to see him again."
And as Dale turned to Charlotte, his expression changed to one of concern.
"Oh Charlotte," Dale said quietly. "Are you okay?"
"Oh, Dale!" Charlotte, without any doubt at all that she'd chosen the right man, for realsies this time, rushed forward and into his arms to kiss him in overflowing adoration and gratitude.
The embrace and kiss were returned with gusto, his memories of kidnapping and imprisonment abating. "Come with me, Charlotte," Dale said looking deep into her eyes. "Let's get away from that imposter and get a nice cup of coffee."
[ooc: Preplayed with the phenomenal perfectmissyork. All of Fandom magically got invitations so they could attend at a moments notice because it's SOW and dan it it's possible that way. IC/OCD reaction threads coming up are up!]