154 Dude Looks Like A Lady!

Listen boy
I don’t want to see you let a good thing
Slip away

You know I don’t like watching
Anybody make the same mistakes
I made

She’s a real nice girl
And she’s always there for you
But a nice girl wouldn’t tell you what you should do

Listen boy
I’m sure that you think you got it all
Under control

You don’t want somebody telling you
The way to stay in someone’s soul

You’re a big boy now
You’ll never let her go
But that’s just the kind of thing
She ought to know

Tell her about it
Tell her everything you feel
Give her every reason to accept
That you’re for real

Tell her about it
Tell her all your crazy dreams
Let her know you need her
Let her know how much she means

Listen boy
It’s not automatically a certain guarantee
To insure yourself
You’ve got to provide communication constantly

When you love someone
You’re always insecure
And there’s only one good way
To reassure

Tell her about it
Let her know how much you care
When she can’t be with you
Tell her you wish you were there

Tell her about it
Every day before you leave
Pay her some attention
Give her something to believe

‘Cause now and then
She’ll get to worrying
Just because you haven’t spoken
For so long
Though you may not have done anything
Will that be a consolation when she’s gone

Listen boy
It’s good information from a man
Who’s made mistakes

Just a word or two that she gets from you
Could be the difference that it makes

She’s a trusting soul
She’s put her trust in you
But a girl like that won’t tell you
What you should do

Tell her about it
Tell her everything you feel
Give her every reason
To accept that you’re for real

Tell her about it
Tell her all your crazy dreams
Let her know you need her
Let her know how much she means

Tell her about it
Tell her how you feel right now
Tell her about it
The girl don’t want to wait too long
You got to tell her about it
Tell her now and you won’t go wrong
You got to tell her about it
Before it gets too late
You got to tell her about it
You know the girl don’t want
To wait, you got to
Tell her about it

Maya Fey
Meditation Room, Fey Manor
June 16, 2026, 3:45 PM

Like most brides, the Kurain Master was not wearing a watch with her wedding attire.

Therefore, the bride had zero clues whatsoever about how many agonizing minutes had passed while she’d remained immure in that room, sobbing on the floor in a devastated, crumpled heap after Phoenix’s dramatic definitive exit, both out the door and out of her life.

When Nick first left me, I saw myself as a glass figurine – perfect to the eye, yet fragile underneath. Since he used his words as weapons, I was ground to the finest of dust – still glass, yet vulnerable to any gust. While at times the pain was still raw, I took pride in the fact that even though I thought he’d done his worst, I’d somehow still prevailed, managing to sparkle even in the dimmest midwinter light, believing I couldn’t be broken anymore. I honestly believed that after that, absolutely nothing could ever bring me to such a state again, where I was once again smashed to smithereens, beyond all repair.

Maya straightened herself up as she drew one final deep, shuddering breath.

Nonetheless, with the insight given to me by this sacred jewel, and being able to experience the misery Nick’s endured all this time, even though he was the one to leave me behind … I yet again seem to have regressed to an even sorrier state now than I even was back then!

The necromancer gripped her former lover’s magatama in her hand so tightly, she was sure it’d imprint its curved shape permanently into her palm.

Knowing how much the one you love has suffered, even without understanding the full cause or meaning behind it, is far worse than any sort of pain you will ever feel for yourself. Therefore, here I am now,  regressed to where I was almost a year and a half ago, my heart shattered into fragments more numerous than the stars. I could see my ex-boyfriend’s memories and still relive all my own. I realize memories can be hard to forget and painful to remember; that those who hate us now once loved us.

She swallowed back the painful lump in her throat.

Ex-boyfriend. The word alone is enough to make me choke. In my dreams, we were married, then came the babies… Now Phoenix Wright is my ex … and I’m supposed to be OK with that?! Well, I’m not! I want him back! He loved me once, how can that just go away? How can love evaporate so fast?

Dabbing at her watery eyes with her handkerchief one more time, Maya rushed towards the door, her heart pounding with the force of this newfound determination.

No! That’s not true! When he first broke up with me, perhaps at the time I could’ve believed such was the case, but that belies everything I just became privy to from that gemstone! I saw it all with my own eyes! The only I still don’t understand is why he left me when it’s so obvious Nick still loves me!  It was evident in his visions! I felt it in his kiss!  But there is one thing that I do know now, which I should’ve realized some time ago.

The Master had no idea how much of a headstart Phoenix had gotten when he’d stormed out of the room, or how much time had elapsed since he’d literally given her the final kiss-off. Nor did she have any idea how fast she could run in her satiny bridal kitten heels, but she figured her ex-boyfriend couldn’t have gotten too far ahead with that bad ankle of his.

Nick and I have got to stop running away from each other like cowards! There’s no way I can leave things the way they are between us, not with him believing I meant any of those horrible, cruel slurs I slung at him! I need to pull myself together – I need to go after him!

Her mind and body racing with her latest, impregnable resolve, Maya flung open the door and lunged outside into the hallway … only to run smack into the unsuspecting Avante Garde fashion mogul, Porfirio, née Basil Pepper, himself!

The unprepared Verdunian designer was so caught off-guard, he bounced back like a rubber ball from the collision, and would have undoubtedly landed on his bony backside had it not been for the presence of Mildred, who’d had been right behind him, effectively breaking his fall by becoming splattered against the wall! Despite the waifish man being a featherweight,  the village elder dramatically expelled a heavy wheezing sound as she tried to peel herself off the hallway wall, skeletal hands fluttering to her throat and tongue hanging out for good measure.

“Hey, hey! Looking for me, baby doll?” The lanky man put his hands on Maya’s shoulders with surprising strength and steered her firmly back towards her dressing room. “No need to fret, my pet – I told you I’d come to find you! There’s no need to be rushing about, getting all flustered and sweaty before I get you all gussied up in that divine, masterpiece wedding gown!”

Porfirio clucked his tongue with disapproval as he took in the spirit medium’s blotched, mottled skin and puffy eyes.

“OMG girlfriend! You look like death. You may as well be in Versace!”

“Indeed! Why the smeared snake eyes, Mystic Maya?” Mildred’s beady eyeballs narrowed suspiciously at the red-rimmed orbs of her nemesis. “What have you been up to? Just how did you manage to completely ruin your bridal makeup?”

“Don’t be such a silly!” The designer twittered. “I know exactly what’s been going on here!”

The dumbstruck and distraught village leader was rendered speechless at this entire exchange, all the while frantically wondering if she possessed the required physical strength to make like a bowling ball and knock aside the two pesky pins if she timed it just right!

“Is that so, Porfirio?”  The village elder responded meanly. “I, for one, would love to hear the explanation about why the future Mrs. Beaugosse presently resembles the bastardized, bedraggled love child of a blowfish and a raccoon!”

Says the woman whose face you could slam into the dough and make “scary beyond all reason” gorilla cookies! Maya seethed inwardly. I’d like to kick your tits off, or at least punch you in the teeth, but both would only be an improvement!

“Mnh-hmmm! No need to throw shade, Millie girl! Isn’t it obvi? The bride was simply emotional about bidding adieu to her maiden days!” The cluelessly presumptuous Porfirio continued shoving the tiny, flummoxed Master towards the Meditation Room. “Luckily, I’m a Renaissance man, meaning I’m a
non-practicing makeup artist, as well as a top-notch designer! I have some emergency backup maquillage stashed in my bag, so repairing this surface damage will be no more work than concealing a scratched car with touch-up paint. I’ll have this lovely lass restored and fixed up in a jiffy!”

“B- But I – I…” Maya sputtered helplessly but was unable to break free from the stylist’s tenacious grip. She was then forcibly shoved down onto a stool back in the room as the determined fashion magnate reached into his man purse, whipping out several colorful cosmetic pots, paints, and makeup brushes. His unrelenting hand remained clamped on her shoulder, leaving her no choice but to stay seated and subjected to the deft ministrations being done to her visage as he began patting and dabbing at her reddened, tear-stained countenance.

Mildred folded her arms over her chest, pursed her lips, and stood right beside them like a well-placed, albeit spindly human force field, as though sensing the Master would try to make a run for it otherwise.

“Werk! Supermodel! That pretty face is now as good as new!” Porfirio announced proudly after a few minutes, already reaching for the grandiose frou-frou gown which was hanging on the wall. “Chop, chop! Time’s a-wastin’! Girl, let’s get you out of that dressing gown and into this über fabulous habiliment!”

He spun the raven-haired brunette around as though she were nothing more than a department store mannequin, jerked the hated garment over her head, and nimbly began fastening up the endless row of buttons in the back, which he’d managed to adroitly sew back in place during her prolonged absence in LA.

As was tradition, the merciless hand of fate had intervened in the worst way possible, and against her will, Maya was trapped yet again.

It’s too late. Nick’s probably long gone by now, meaning I’ve lost my one chance to tell let him how sorry I am…

Her soul wept.

Oblivious to the betrothed’s spiritless, woebegone dejections, Porfirio continued chattering away like an animated chipmunk to the unsmiling Mildred, whose hawkish gaze never once strayed from the lady in not-quite-white.

“I still can’t believe we managed to pull this log out of the fire, Millie!” The peacockish stylist tittered. “I genuinely thought the earlier dress disaster was the worst thing that could happen to this cray-cray circus of a wedding! But then that preposterous bumbler of a Police Chief went and pulled that outrageous stunt! Ohmigod! I seriously believed there wouldn’t be a ceremony at all…”

Flashback

Maya Fey and Dick Gumshoe
Kurain Village
June 16, 2026. 3:10 PM

The despondent and empty-pocketed Maya exited the taxi, instructing the driver to bill her later for the cost of the trip up from the city. Then she slowly dragged her feet along the main path towards the ceremonial setup, feeling as though she was about to attend her own funeral instead of nuptials, while her merciless mind continued to replay those final moments at the hospital.

Nick, I gave you my life, and I never take back a gift, for in this life honesty and integrity mean so much. The word I gave you was my bond, not because I felt chained, but because I honored you and loved you more than everything that I am. Thence, since you acted like what I gave was ultimately nothing, I am hurt in a way that cuts to the core of who I am. The hurt is a spider web, intricate, yet strong. I know in time that it will pass, and the sun will regain its warmth, but the joy from my heart is forever gone. I cannot cry nor grieve for you any longer, for you stole yourself away; it was you who took the love I offered and locked it back inside that cage you call a body. Never in a million years would I have done what Dahlia did to you … ever. But now you’ll never know, never find out what we could have been, and neither will I.

She idly wondered if she’d managed to beat Pearl and the Chief back home, or if they were only a few moments behind. Naturally, they would have immediately headed back towards Kurain as soon as they’d seen her fleeing in the cab … right?

They have to be close to Kurain by now! I know since he’s a cop, so he can’t just take off or merely leave a note for the unlucky driver of the BMW, but surely not even Gumshoe could be so luckless that he’d still be waiting for that driver to come out all these hours later… could he?!

The affianced woman blinked back fresh tears as her mind, like an evil treadmill, propelled her right back to the heartrending moment of revelation once more, when Phoenix had unwittingly made it clear that Maya had spent the past year in mourning, and six years together with a man, who in the end, simply hadn’t given a damn.

I’m not even sure just what I am missing the most anymore. Do I miss you or do I miss what I was with you? As much as I’d like to glibly dismiss all you meant to me, the fact remains that the bounce in my being and the spark in my eyes looks like it was a part of a previous lifetime. I don’t know if this is a nightmare or if that was all a dream. All I wish right now is you’d wake me up and say it was all a nightmare, Nick. You being you and me being me was a perfect equation, but now there is no balance as you are not at the other end of the equalization for me. They say I’ve changed, and I have to agree, as my reactions to situations are now totally different from what they used to be. I didn’t know carrying on would be such a burden to shoulder all my life. Sometimes I feel like, to drop the burden, I’d need to walk right back to where I started, only to realize you will again not be there to start with.

The downtrodden spirit medium had just reached the courtyard entrance and was craning her neck to see if she could spot Luke or Maggey, to inquire if they knew anything about Gumshoe and Pearl’s whereabouts when she was unexpectedly accosted by both Porfirio and Mildred.

“Sound the bells and handcuff this damsel before she takes off yet again! The Runaway Bride has finally returned!” The designer cachinnated heartily at his own quip as he clapped his hands excitedly. “Gurl, I have got the most fantabulous news!”

“Oh?” Maya pointedly ignored her adversary and directed listless eyes towards the beaming costumier, her curiosity briefly outweighing her despair. “And what would that be?”

“Number one, I need to pronto fire the puerile ditz who ended up shipping your gown in honeydew instead of the original magnolia requested as a tribute to the groom’s Southern Belle of a mother!” The designer began apologetically, but Mildred cut him off.

“No need to fuss over platitudinous semantics, Porfirio!” The former Nazi for untainted virginal white bridal gowns dismissed with a sniff. “I have already written the check for that spectacular piece of workmanship you created, therefore it will be worn as was agreed upon to finalize all transactions! Even in the supposedly wrong shade, your masterpiece was still closer to pure white than the putrid, antiquated, cosmic latte horror Mystic Maya was about to wear this morning in its stead!”

The psychic’s melancholy was immediately obliterated, and a veil of crimson clouded her vision as she glared at her enemy for this latest unprecedented besmirching of Misty Fey’s wedding dress, which she was still wearing!

“My frayed nerves from this morning remain presently shot,” she ground out through gritted teeth. “Therefore, it’s with phenomenal self-restraint that I relinquish to you my last warning in a merely verbal format, Mystic Mildred: that shall be the final denigrating commentary you make about my beloved mother’s wedding dress within my presence! Is that understood?”

As the bride’s dark eyes shot daggers at her, the wretched harpy gulped in genuine fear, belatedly realizing that she may have gone too far. But fortunately, Porfirio quickly stepped in front of her and put a well-manicured, placating hand on Maya’s arm.

“No need to blow your top, quaint as this dress surely is, dearie,” he simpered. “What matters is because you were gone for so long, we were able to fix your new dress! With the fastidious Millie here being my tailoring assistant, she and I were able to remedy the blunder done by the yet-to-be-identified – but sure to be terminated! – henwit on my alteration staff! I have no clue how or why they made the impromptu decision to shrink your size 2 wedding gown into a size 0 with that additional stitching, but we’ve managed to remove all of it, with zero damage done to the garment, as well as sew the buttons back on!  Porfirio’s masterpiece has been restored in all its glory and is fit for a queen!”

He flashed a toothy grin of pride.

“Yes, I am so tooting my own horn here! Style is like the clap. You’ve either got it or you haven’t. And I’ve got it! Anyhoo, my work of art is now ready to be donned on by the prestigious Master herself! It’s once again in pristine condition and hanging up in your dressing room!”

Maya’s heart sank at this news. The sole upshot of entering this travesty of marriage would’ve been taking a sentimental piece of her old life with her, due to the unfortunate circumstances of the meretricious designer gown inexplicably no longer fitting her, thus freeing her to wear Misty’s gown down the aisle. 

Now it appeared she wouldn’t even be allowed to have that one tiny triumph anymore!

Oh, well. She thought with glum resignation. If I’m going to be the Queen of Misery on this hellacious day, I may as well go in up to my neck, right? I mean, seriously, this wedding is an accursed, unmitigated disaster before it’s even happened! What else can go possibly go wrong?!

“Let’s get to your change room, Mystic Maya,” the Dragon Lady commanded briskly, somehow sensing she had regained the upper hand. “Porfirio and I shall both assist you with donning your bridal attire and get this wedding back on track, posthaste!”

“Hold it!” Frowning, the bride attempted to hose down the overzealous harridan’s burning enthusiasm to drag her to the altar before she could even catch her breath! “Mystic Mildred, there’s no need to be running around like two shit house rats in a snowstorm, since I refuse to resume walking down that green mile – er, I mean, that aisle – until I know all relevant parties are present and accounted for! So, are they?”

“Naturally, everybody of importance is still here!” The dandy appeared taken aback by the unanticipated assertiveness. “Every single member of the now surely restless wedding guests, including the entertainment and the orchestra, have faithfully remained on the premises since your departure this morning, Maya! Millie is right, let’s get you in that dress and get you married already!”

“Not without my daughter!” Maya affixed piercing mocha eyes on the old woman, knowing without a doubt that at the very least, Mildew, if not the designer, had known exactly to whom she’d been referring, yet the old bag had remained suspiciously silent to her query. “Is she back as of yet? I could hardly get married without my little girl at my side! After all, she is the maid of honor!”

“Ah, yes. Of course. My heartfelt regrets for that oversight,” Porfirio apologized sincerely. “The Chief arrived about 15 minutes before you did, and since Pearl left here with him, I imagine she would’ve returned when he did. She’s probably milling about somewhere amongst the congregation…”

“Um, actually she isn’t,” a booming voice interrupted the trio suddenly.

The astonished Master whirled around and found herself face-to-face with a sheepish-looking Gumshoe.

“Little Missy still isn’t here, pal,” the ex-detective told his friend. “I can confirm this fact since I got here about a quarter-hour ago. However, Pearl didn’t come up with me.”

“You cannot be serious!” Maya ogled him in disbelief. “Gumshoe, do you mean to tell me that you left my precious Pearly behind in Los Angeles and dared come up here… without her?!”

Although he was nearly thrice the petite woman’s size, the brawny man couldn’t help but swallow anxiously as he saw a twitch beginning in her left eye upon hearing this news. Also, although he’d been instructed to use Pearl’s absence as a stalling tactic, he still hadn’t come up with a feasible explanation for it!

“It’s kind of a long story, Maya…” He scratched his head awkwardly as he groped frantically for an excuse.

“We don’t have time to hear the asinine anecdotes of your negligence, you oversized buffoon!” Mildred interpolated, unintentionally coming to the Chief’s rescue. “I’m not getting any younger you know! The clock is ticking! Let’s just get on with it while it’s still daylight, regardless of whether or not that balky, rebellious hoyden is present, and pay no mind as to why she isn’t! Mystic Maya, if you need a maid of honor, I’d be more than willing to step up to the role!”

Maya reeled sharply around upon hearing this outrageous offer, gawking at her foe incredulously as her composure entirely unraveled in that instant.

“Will I allow you to replace my daughter by my side as my lady in waiting?” She bit out, so infuriated by now at The Dragon Lady’s audacity that her voice was quaking with rage. “Mystic Mildred, here is a short list of things I would do before that ever were to occur: I would rather shave off a homeless man’s beard and use it as my own personal shower loofah. I would instead drink for a week from the septic tank of a dysentery suffering 700-pound man. I would sooner suck the snot out of a gorilla’s nose until the back of his head caves in…”

Mildred scowled darkly, ignoring the barely disguised snort of laughter from both Porfirio and Gumshoe.

“I would rather get stuck in an elevator for an inordinately long period, with Donald Trump, while being forced to listen to Barry Manilow tunes and having my tonsils removed with a rusty spoon…” Maya ended, her chest heaving violently. “Before I would ever consider having the likes of you partaking as maid of honor in my Pearly’s place!”

Gumshoe was now doubled over with laughter, unable to withhold his mirth for another minute. Beside him, Porfirio was struggling to breathe, laughing so hard, no sound came out as he waved and clapped his hands in the manner of a half-baked seal.

“Stop it, pal! You’re gonna kill me!” The big man sniggered, finally pulling himself together and clapping a hand on her shoulder. “Er, I mean, I hope not literally, when I tell you how Pearl’s absence notwithstanding, there is one more teensy weensy problem with getting this show on the road, even if she were here.”

“You don’t say?” Sarcasm was practically dripping off Maya’s tongue at this point, she was so livid. “Oh gee, and everything was going so swimmingly up until this point, too!”

Gumshoe cringed but nervously continued.

“Er, you see pal…” he faltered. “It’s kind of hard to have a ceremony when the actual wedding rings are sort of … missing…”

“Missing?” The spirit medium’s voice had gotten so unnaturally high at this point, it sounded unrecognizable, even to her own ears. “How in name of God’s 10 toes are the wedding bands missing?! Gordy was the ring bearer, and they were safely in his care when Pearly and I left with you this morning!”

“And they remained  safe while in his care!” The Chief said hastily, his cheeks reddening. “My big guy is the most responsible six-and-a-half-year-old in the world! But when I got back here to meet up with the boys and Maggey, my wife had to go change baby Jeff. Plus, Gordy had to go to the bathroom, an act that requires him to use … both hands. Consequently, he gave the rings to his mother for safekeeping. Naturally, I didn’t want my wife having to juggle those expensive pieces of jewelry on top of the responsibility of taking both our boys to go potty! So, er… I volunteered to take them off her hands and guard the rings in the meantime.”

Uh-oh. A sickening sensation formed in Maya’s stomach. This is not going to end well…

“I was just sitting there in the congregation, minding my own business, admiring how bright and shiny those bands were.” Gumshoe’s face was growing noticeably redder by the minute. “Out of the blue, one of the Big Berry monkeys came up to me and wanted to take a closer look at the rings. I stretched out my palm, so Desse could admire them, when he suddenly snatched them right out of my hand and took off!”

“Desse?” Mildred exploded wrathfully. “You bubbleheaded schlemiel! You gave those platinum wedding bands to the very same trouble-making, flea-bitten primate who decided to play hot potato with the conductor’s wig?!”

“They’re both wearing identical blue hats!” Gumshoe protested pitifully. “It’s not like either one of them has an identifying birthmark or anything so I could tell them apart!”

“Nonetheless, you did know they’re both the offspring of Money the Monkey!” Maya reminded him, slowly beginning to rub her temples. “The infamous monkey who also loved bright, shiny objects and absconded with Nick’s attorney badge?!”

“Yeah, I remembered that fact… afterward,” Gumshoe admitted, shame-faced. “Good news though! The reason I said the rings were missing and not lost is right now, as we speak, Max is attempting to climb up one of the trees after Desse, which he scrambled up in an attempt to hide. The problem is, we need to wait for the magician to frisk the monkey once he finally gets up there and tries to wrestle the rings away from him, and then climb back down! Bearing in mind that those leather pants of Galactica’s aren’t exactly the most ideal tree climbing gear…”

“If I could pull the lever on this hackneyed, overdrawn, story already, I would do it in the blink of an eye!” Mildred muttered disgustedly, but nobody heard her. “Along with the mentally deficient storyteller!”

“Then, um, Max has to go climb the other tree, where Jylan has stationed himself. Because you see, the little buggers played a game of monkey in the middle with me between while they tossed the ring boxes back and forth … and unfortunately, I just lost track of which one of them had the rings amidst the commotion…”

“You mean your dimwitted self was outwitted by simian cretins who fling their own feces at one another for funsies!” Mildred sneered. “How unsurprising to hear such a revelation!”

Gumshoe ignored her.

“Consequently, we’re not sure which rascal actually has the rings…”

“As unbelievable as it is that I’m entertaining this beyond ludicrous dialogue …” Maya continued to rub her now throbbing temples. “Gumshoe, there are two monkeys and two circus performers! Could time not be saved with Max climbing the one tree after Desse, while Regina climbed after Jylan?”

“That’s an excellent question, pal!” The Chief nodded earnestly. “And Regina absolutely would’ve done so, except for the teensy weensy fact that she’s the only one who can contain Regent, who is getting kind of restless since he was performing tricks all morning to entertain the congregation. It seems we missed quite the show! Do you know that Luke somehow managed to put a raccoon inside that tiger’s mouth, and it came out unscathed? And apparently, Feyt’s been doing handstands on his head … of the tiger, not the raccoon! Also, Whitney did a full concert up until maybe half an hour ago, since, as luck would have it, the Philharmonic knew every single song she sang, and performed right along with her!”

“And just where is Luke?!” The diviner interrupted. “Wouldn’t the most obvious solution be for the animal whisperer to simply instruct Desse and Jylan to return the rings, hence ending all this monkey business?!”

“I don’t know where he is.” The big man shrugged. “Maggey says she saw him maybe five to ten minutes before I got there, but nobody knows where he went since.”

“Let’s recap all of this, to ensure I understand this entire calamity that has become my wedding.” Maya was now practically rubbing a hole into her temples. “Gumshoe, you singlehandedly have misplaced: both wedding bands, along with my daughter, and now you cannot tell me where her boyfriend is, as the cherry on top of this crap sundae! Did I miss anything?”

“Um, no… You’re pretty much up to speed now, pal.” He chuckled weakly. “I do have some more good news though. Right before I came up to you, Pearl texted me and Maggey.  She’s on her way back and should be here sometime soon!”

“Well, let’s thank the Holy Mother for small miracles then, shall we?” Maya abruptly turned on her heel and began stomping towards Fey Manor. Gumshoe had to begin sprinting to keep up with her.

“I’ll meet you at the house before the wedding starts to help you with your dress!” Porfirio called after her, but the bride barely even heard him, as she was directing her next question at the Chief.

“Do you reckon Pearly will be back here by four o’clock?”

“I think so, if not sooner.”

“Then the ceremony will resume at 4:00 PM, assuming Pearly returns by then. If she comes back before then, I shall still require the extra time to try to gather my wits and pull myself together, so I’d appreciate some solitude, without any interruptions, in the meantime.”

She cast her friend a sideways glance.

“And if for any reason my little girl is still not back by then, I don’t care; the guests can surely suck it up and wait a bit longer! Since they have already been languishing this long – a little bit of extra time won’t hurt them! Because, even at the risk of seeming like a Bridezilla, no matter how much Mildew grunts, snorts fire, or roars in protest, I am not getting married without my Pearly present, and that’s final!”

End Flashback

Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth
Kurain Village
June 16, 2026, 3:55 PM

Phoenix’s nostrils engulfed the delicate hint of vanilla in the air, always reminiscent of Maya’s scent. The redolence brought back an overwhelming wave of nostalgia, his mind now flooded with mental pictures of that ethereal face, as lovely as the first day he’d seen her, and the last time they’d been happy together; her eyes had been twinkling with laughter, her teeth glistening as she smiled. So much time had passed since then, and since he’d foolishly discarded his most lasting, tangible reminiscence item of hers in a fit of unthinking temper, all he’d now have left of his ex was the occasional fleeting memory. Their latest explosive encounter was the definitive last time he’d ever lay eyes on the love of his life. He’d now officially forfeited the sound of her voice and the touch of her skin, forever. His chest ached as he thought of what he’d now lost forever.

Nobody had ever replaced Maya Fey, and no one ever would.

The former defense attorney had just made it to the entrance of the courtyard when he heard a familiar feminine voice calling out to him.

“Feenie?” An expression of delighted surprise lit up the caller’s intonation. “I can’t believe you’re really here!”

He turned and gazed into the late afternoon sun. There stood Iris, as picturesque as ever, wearing a slightly more fetching version of her customary shrine maiden garb. Although she looked slightly tired and worn out, she was smiling brightly as she strode towards him.

“Hi, Iris.” The pianist allowed her to embrace him and found himself stiffly returning the gesture. His lack of enthusiasm was purely a lingering result of his Maya-fueled inner turmoil rather than his lack of affection for his first love. “Long time no see.”

“I just saw Mr. Edgeworth, and he told me you two had come here to halt the wedding!” Iris’s doe orbs sparkled with hopeful excitement. “You look so handsome in that suit! Have you managed to intercept Maya yet?” The light in her eyes faded as she saw his morose expression, and immediately, her pretty face fell. “Oh no! Feenie, what happened?”

He shook his head, feeling his chest tightening as he recalled his excruciating final encounter with his former lover. Fumbling into his breast pocket, he double-checked to ensure he wasn’t accidentally holding Pearl’s forgery, and that he beheld his letter for his beloved in his hand, which was in his other pocket. He then placed the paper in the shrine maiden’s hand, curling her fingers around it.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is I tried, and I failed. Until you give Maya that note, despite my best efforts, she’ll still think you’re with me. A promise is a promise though. Here’s the letter I vowed to you that I’d write, now yours to do with it as you wish. Although it failed to clear my name with my her, at the very least, it should eradicate all culpability involved with your name, and restore things to proper order with your cousin.”

“So, what are you going to do now?” Iris asked sadly, clutching the page tightly in her grasp. “You’re going to give up just like that? After you’ve come so far?”

“Some things just aren’t meant to be. In life, there are things we don’t want to happen which we still have to nevertheless accept,” he intoned woodenly. “Things we don’t want to know but have to learn, and people we can’t live without, but still have to let go.”

“I’m so sorry, Feenie. I did everything I could to help.” Tears of sympathy glistened in her eyes. “I – I even managed to spirit channel, you know. I successfully channeled Whitney Houston for the last five hours or so.”

“I know you did, Iris,” he said kindly. “And I will always adore you for it – wait… what?!”

“I’ve been working on harnessing my latent powers with Sister Bikini and Mystic Matilda ever since I was released from prison.” The nun rubbed the back of her skull and winced. “Unfortunately, I couldn’t have predicted that the legendary singer would have such a penchant for the Bollinger champagne that’s in those guest goody bags, which she managed to consume quite a bit of during her performance! I’m not sure if that’s the reason for my present headache, or if it’s due to the hefty blunt force Mystic Matilda must’ve needed with the spirit severing stick to finally release Ms. Houston from my body! The diva was apparently in her element, and quite reluctant to leave!”

“I can’t believe you did that! Truly, you are an angel among us, Iris Hawthorne. While it’s wonderful you’ve tapped into your dormant psychic skills, I’m still sorry that you had to suffer until the very end on my account!” Now it was Phoenix’s turn to be sympathetic, and he gently tugged her back into his arms for another hug, this one of heartfelt gratitude. “I will never forget everything you endured for my sake, and all your efforts to try to help me. Thank you, dear friend.”

He glanced down at his watch and sighed heavily.

“You better take your seat with the congregation. I need to go find Edgeworth and get out of here before the wedding starts. It’s almost time, and I truly don’t think I could handle seeing it through. I hope you understand that I’m going to take my leave now. Take care, Iris.”

“You take care, too, Feenie.” She lightly kissed him on the cheek. “Please stay in touch.”

“I’ll try. See you, Iris.”

The poker champion hobbled back to where his best friend stood at the back of the congregation. He shook his head at the man’s questioning glance.

“It’s no use, Edgeworth. Maya hates me. She thinks I’m scum. I didn’t even have a chance to tell her it was all a lie. She’s going to marry this other guy whether I want her to or not.” Phoenix angrily wiped a stray tear from his eye and kicked at a small rock on the ground.

Sorry Chief, a lawyer only cries when it’s all over? Well, the fat lady hath sung!

Edgeworth crossed his arms and stonily regarded the other man.

“Did you actually try to talk to her Wright? Are you telling me you were unsuccessful despite confessing your sins and admitting to your justifiable lies?”

Phoenix flushed under the barrister’s intense scrutiny.

“I tried to… make her realize that she still had feelings for me and that calling off this wedding would be entirely her idea because of that. But she’s just content to continually let me know how much she hates me – and keep on assaulting me!” He ruefully gestured towards his left cheek, still displaying the slight scratches from the floral bouquet Maya had wielded at him earlier, and then to his right one, which still bore the recently acquired palm print. “At least now I have matching-sided battle wounds.”

“Buck up, Wright. Remember to put on a smile even during the worst of times. Mia would have been proud of you for that, at least.”

“I know she would have.” The former defense attorney attempted to smile but found he simply couldn’t make it last for longer than a split second. “Let’s just go.”

For the first time, the hobo noticed his comrade had been standing alone. The maid of honor was nowhere in sight.

“By the way, where is Pearls? I thought she would have rejoined you by now?”

“I guess there was no time for her to come back before the ceremony, so I imagine she’s attending to the bride, mayhap? Or she’s still getting herself prepared. I’m assuming Pearl was the one who cleared the pathway, so you were able to accost the future Mrs. Beaugosse in her dressing room?”

Edgeworth smirked and tapped his finger against his arm.

“Nevertheless, Wright, I think you should man up and at least stay for the ceremony. You broke the young lady’s heart, no matter how noble your intentions for doing so were. Alas, you may as well reap what you sow and see the results of this whole mess you’ve unwittingly caused. I don’t mean to be heartless, but you know that I know that you know that I know that there wouldn’t even be a wedding today if you hadn’t told her that you were in love with Iris!”

“I couldn’t let anything happen to her, Edgeworth!” Phoenix shrugged helplessly. “We both knew what a real threat Kristoph Gavin posed!”

“Once that murderous fiend was behind bars, you should have confessed your ruse, Wright, like I advised you! But no, you decided to be a man of eximious valor and let her be because you didn’t wish to interfere with her betrothal to that flouncy, dandy, popinjay of a man! Yet by some miracle, you were given a second chance to turn things around when you realized how much Maya still loved you since she left her own wedding to rush to your bedside, yet you managed to louse up that golden opportunity as well and lose her, again! Then, despite my managing the mirific feat of flying your rear-end here before the ceremony, so you could right things with her, you still managed to somehow foul things up anew!”

Edgeworth’s grey eyes were stormy as they raked over his childhood chum, who shrunk back from the irascible glare of the normally cool and collected man as he continued his tirade.

“After everything you’ve put that poor woman through Wright – every bloody thing! – you still tried to make her be the one to admit she still loved you? I have little doubt as to what your methods probably were too, Mr. Not-So-Irresistible!”

The chess lover smiled smugly at the accuracy of his deducted logic when his dialogue partner’s cheeks turned crimson.

“I’d recognize that righteous indignant palm imprint anywhere, as the mark of an outraged, virtuous woman thwarting a lecherous rogue’s advances, only minutes before her nuptials! We are right back to where we were seven years ago, Wright. Is it that you’ve regressed to the same clueless idiot you were that fateful night at the Russian bar, or have you just merely ceased to evolve with the acquired wisdom that’s supposed to come with age?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Phoenix wanted to know.

“Meaning, when you’ve done something wrong, admit it and say you’re sorry! No one in history has ever choked to death from swallowing his pride! I shall spare singing you the lyrics to Billy Joel’s “Tell Her About It” as we are pressed for time and simply summarize the all-too-fitting song by telling you this: You cannot outwit fate by standing on the sidelines placing little side bets about the outcome of life. Either you wade in and risk everything you have to play the game, or you don’t play at all. And if you don’t play, you can’t win.”

“I tried to play!” Phoenix cried impotently. “And I failed! Three strikes and I’m out, Edgeworth! What’s the use? I’ve been benched for good!”

“No, you tried to dissemble while trying to get back in Maya’s good graces, yet still not owning up to your follies in full, by attempting to justify your actions and defend them, rather than confessing your sins and pleading for her forgiveness!”

Phoenix swallowed at the humbling, daunting task he had been evading all this time, and Edgeworth stepped up his attack.

“I curse the ignoramus morosoph who decided to popularize the phrase: love means never having to say you’re sorry!” The prosecutor exploded in a fit of unrestricted wrath. “True love means always needing to admit you’re sorry! Pride is one of the seven deadly sins for good reason! You never lose by loving; you always lose by holding back.”

“Edgeworth, you just don’t understand. I –”

“No Wright. It is you who doesn’t understand! Heed my words, for the final time: there is no room for neither pride nor ego when it comes to love. Cease your dithering immediately and realize at this point, you shall bear no other alternative but to grovel. You shall have to be naught but irrefutably diaphanous as you lay your heart on the line. In all probability, you will lose every scrap of amour-propre in the process. However, in the end, if you should be so lucky, and the fates don’t deny you your umpteenth chance, while you may no longer have your pride, you will have her.”

Phoenix’s gaze remained downcast as he mulled over these last words of this much-deserved tongue-lash. His entire approach with Maya had been the wrong one, he understood this now. He’d always been more galvanic, as opposed to level-headed, whenever it came to that woman! Their similar hot-blooded, spirited and passionate nature had been the underlying theme of their relationship for as long as he’d known her, so it was little surprise that putting the two of them together in such extenuating circumstances had created spontaneous combustion!

Looking back, the spiky-haired man realized he should have entered his ex’s dressing room on his goddamn knees – pride be damned! – waving Pearl’s forged letter in his hand as a flag of truce, while professing all his well-meaning lies and sins to the love of his life, while begging her not to tie herself down in a loveless (and, based on the exterior of the Beau Brummel groom) sexless marriage to another man. In hindsight, he cursed his stupidity for making his ill-timed and unseemly pass at her as the sole thing he’d ever apologized for when he should have been pleading for her forgiveness for so much more!

Had he gotten so caught up in lying and deceiving these past few years in the poker underground that he’d forgotten who he used to be? The man who stood behind veracity above all else? Was that why he hadn’t confessed all his deceptions thus? Or was the astute Edgeworth spot-on? Had he truly become every bit the truculent, bumptious, canaille he’d strived so hard not to be? A daft, porcupine-headed prick who’d reacted in according to fashion to the well-placed, and not at all unprecedented, verbal onslaught the provoked bride had flung at him? His ardent lashing out in retaliation had been entirely due to the barbs wounding his pride, which had taken enough of a beating the past seven years – and caused him to behave every bit like the callous bastard Maya had accused him of being!

“Do you genuinely believe, despite all this, that I may still have a chance, Edgeworth?” He queried hopefully. “That Maya might actually still love me and doesn’t seriously believe I’m nothing but a…  dowdy transient bum?”

“You pitiful foolish fool of a man!” The barrister exploded, uncaring that he was now parroting his former fiancée’s idioms. “If Maya didn’t still love you, she wouldn’t have even allowed you into her room! Never mind taking the time to insult you or let you kiss her, even briefly!”

He caught the black-suited man’s surprised expression and gave a mock bow.

“Your art of bluffing has rubbed off on me, Wright. I was merely speculating what transpired betwixt you two just now, and your expression just proved me correct. You honestly don’t have as good a poker face as you think you do. At least, not with me.” The magenta-clad crossed his arms. “Her actions and words were not that of a woman no longer in love, as her morning runaway bride incident proved, but those of a woman desperate to inflict as much pain back at you as you have upon her. To be honest I’m surprised she stopped at just one slap!”

Phoenix groaned and rubbed his hand over his sorely abused phizog.

“Edgeworth, we have a whole chopper ride home during which you can chastise me to your heart’s content! Right now, I don’t need a reprimand. I need your help.”

“And you shall get it, Wright. The time has at last arrived for the denouement of this production. But what kind of deuteragonist in this Greek dramedy of errors would I be if I didn’t lend you my unhindered succor?” A smirk flickered across the Chief Prosecutor’s mien. “Although by now, you should be very well aware that a lecture on your everlasting foolery is the personal price you must pay in order to garner said assistance!”

Phoenix Wright
Kurain Village, Courtyard
June 16, 2026, 4:00 PM

Sitting next to the prosecutor in the last row of chairs behind Gumshoe and Maggey, Phoenix couldn’t help but smile dolefully at the sight of little Gordy, adorable as ever in his black formal ring-bearer outfit and purple tie, solemnly walking down the aisle with utmost care as he held the satiny pillow carrying the wedding bands upon it.

Behind the ringbearer strode Pearl, the maid of honor. Despite her somewhat disconsolate expression, she was still as pretty as a picture snatched from a wedding magazine in her gown of frills, ribbons, and lace. Her long, light brown hair was out of its customary double-looped pretzel, her shoes were satin and her caramel hair fell in perfect ringlets around her saddened visage. Her acolyte robes had been swapped for a floor-length gown of pink netting, with the bodice gathered into a high neckline edged with rose velvet ribbon. Four bows of rose velvet accentuated the high waistline and edged the full puffed sleeves. Her fair skin was protected from the June sun by a large picture hat of horse-hair braid, banded with rose velvet ribbon. In her hands, the teenage girl carried an intricate, colonial bouquet laden with aubergine, lavender, and violet flowers Phoenix couldn’t even begin to identify – he only knew of no more than three! – but he surmised they were roses and sweet peas. The former lawyer only recognized the different shades of purple because of his time as an art major in school who’d taken color theory as part of the course.

However, Floral Knowledge 101 was not a part of the curriculum!

At the front center of the aisle stood the stocky, frizzy-bearded minister in a black Amish-looking hat and curled side tendrils. He reminded the pianist of Rabbi Tuckman in the Mel Brooks film Robin Hood: Men in Tights. The cleric appeared to be impatient, idly tapping the thick prayer book against his thigh with one hand while his free one idly twirled the front of his wiry beard, giving it a curly pigtail appearance.

Now that he was properly seated and not rushing past, Phoenix, at last, had the chance to more closely examine the person beside the minister. He could only presume the specimen he was gaping at to be the groom, although the man-pretty party in question was so effeminate-looking, he could have easily been standing on the bride’s side of the altar, next to Pearls, as one of the bridesmaids!

Tall and slim in stature, the man had shoulder-length platinum tresses that would have put both Tiffany and Klavier’s to shame – and was inconceivably prettier than the two other blonds as well! The long, thick strands tumbling past his shoulders, much like those of the comely waitress, were carefully set in waves. He was wearing a pale lavender tuxedo with a matching frilly shirt of the same color, and his huge sky blue eyes appeared to be enhanced by – no wait, it was impossible – eyeliner?! And was that mascara he was wearing or were his lashes just that impossibly long? A pale purple silk top hat completed the gaudy look.

Nope, I am not losing my mind. The card shark stared dubiously. The groom just raised his hand to scratch his nose…good grief! He is legit wearing lilac male polish!

The bridegroom smiled broadly and appeared to be preening for someone at a slight distance. Phoenix followed the direction of the gleaming-white grin, and saw Larry, on a stool near the back of the congregation on the far side of them, with his paints and easel set up, tongue protruding to the side of his mouth in concentration as he appeared to be sketching the bridegroom in great detail with charcoal.

Next to the groom stood a familiar, husky figure of a man, with enormous muscular arms, a mop of short, tightly coiffed honey-colored curls, rosy pink cheeks, and a small mustache that looked like a piece of elbow macaroni on each side of his upper lip. He was dressed in a baby-pink tuxedo, and in his mouth held a red rose. The stem was clamped tightly between his teeth to control the gasping sobs emitting from his chest, which he was unable to conceal.

For a moment, the pianist had to blink and rub his eyes, but the garish vision was still there. It had taken him a moment to recognize the maudlin man without his customary pink chef hat and apron. No, his eyes weren’t deceiving him – it was the horrible she-man chef of the unspeakable French cuisine restaurant, Très Bien, Monsieur Jean Armstrong!

Phoenix’s jaw dropped, and he felt sweat forming at his temples. This was what he had driven Maya to when he’d thought he was selflessly setting her free to be better off without him?! To lead a life as the beard of a metrosexual – if not full-blown homosexual – flamboyant femme of a man and his gender-confused, obviously besotted, sidekick?!

“Holy freakin’ hell!” He rasped into Edgeworth’s ear, uncaring if anyone else overheard. “That … that dude looks like a lady!”

“Which one, Wright?” Edgeworth hissed back in a stage whisper, pointedly ignoring the dirty looks a few of the nearby Elders shot them, as well as the slight titter of the Gumshoes. “I’d assume the fancy pants best man and groom could be coxcomb brothers, or even sisters, if I weren’t so convinced that they weren’t not-so undercover lovers!”

He turned to the anterior attorney with a dark scowl.

“And for the record, don’t you dare make any future jokes about my so-called feminine choice of suit color or cravat again, ever!”

Phoenix buried his head in his hands and fought the urge to join Armstrong in an identical bout of hysterical weeping.

Maya, this is all my fault! I made you turn to this… this… mincing fop because I broke your heart so badly. What the ever-loving titty-fucking hell have I done?!

In the next moment, the wedding march music sounded from the orchestra, and the congregation all rose as the bride finally made her grand entrance.

Porfirio’s creation was at last revealed.

Maya’s raven hair, styled in a twisted, braided updo, was partially obscured by her intricately designed floor-length veil, which was attached to an amethyst tiara on her head. When the sunlight hit the lace, it shimmered a phosphorescent pattern of white butterflies that looked as if they were about to rise and flutter away. That was the only good thing about her entire ensemble. The slightly mint confection she wore could only be described as the epitome of all frou-frou numbers. There was too simply much satiny dress, too much lace, too much everything for the petite Kurain Master, who was barely over five feet tall. Awash in the cloud of frills, the bustled gown, which had a huge hoop skirt and 25-foot train, looked like it weighed a ton, and appeared to be swallowing her whole.  The congregation all watched, silently, as the bereaved-looking bride trudged down the aisle, a large cascading bouquet, a more elaborate, lavish version of Pearl’s mixed purple bunch, in her hands while keeping her eyes straight ahead, never straying to glance at the guests seated on either side, all the while resembling a human walking wedding cake.

As the Master reached the altar and stood before her blond bridegroom, he smiled broadly, as though he were auditioning for a toothpaste commercial, which only made it appear more forced than anything else. In comparison, the bride’s exquisitely, artfully painted mask was as somber as that of a condemned criminal attending her own execution. Pearl’s gaze remained downcast, and the best man, for his part, appeared to have ceased, for the moment, in his blubbering, which had been reduced to almost comical little mewls and hiccups.

The atmosphere up at the altar was more like that of a funeral than a wedding. Even the minister’s cadence sounded like one of forced joviality as he began to speak, in a bizarre accent that sounded partly Italian, and partly Brooklyn Jewish.

Jumping Jehoshaphat, he even sounds like Mel Brooks from that dang movie!

“A wedding is that occasion when a man and woman publicly proclaim their love and declare their commitment to one another. By its very nature, it is both a solemn and a happy event. For some of you gathered here, this ceremony will prompt a flood of personal memories, for others, it will set in motion dreams and aspirations. For all of us, it will be a sharing in a most intimate and love-filled moment in the lives of Maya Fey and Longines Diandre Crispin Beaugosse.”

“You forgot the Third, silly!” Tittered the groom, waving his wrist at the Minister, who rolled his eyes comically and chuckled before apologizing and repeating the full name along with the corrected version.

Long in Ass? There were two more in line before him? The poker champ thought frantically, barely suppressing the histrionics threatening to consume him. Are you fisting me?! And just how in the name of Caesar’s toga did Maya manage to find a guy whose subsequent names are even gayer than the next? Bogus is indeed accurate…it indeed totally bogus that this popinjay is seriously continuing the ruse of wanting to be married to a woman!

“What kind of name is Deandra anyway?” He muttered to his seatmate. “Isn’t that a girl’s name? Wouldn’t that fact, coupled with the last name being Bogus, be some sort of clue that this sham of a marriage may not be completely legally binding if both parties aren’t of the opposite sex!?”

“Wright, you bloody imbecile! If you kept up with the laws, you’d know that gay marriage has been legal in the United States for the past 11 years!” Edgeworth snapped agitatedly, barely bothering to keep his voice down. He too was feeling the strain of the events unfolding, and it was beginning to create cracks in his normally cool-headed demeanor. “But for the record, it’s Deandre, not Deandra, which is French for manly. And it’s Beaugosse, not Bogus! It’s also French, and it means handsome boy.”

“I take it his parents were going for irony?” Phoenix thoughtfully tapped his chin, his tone was laced with sarcastic amusement. “I mean, he’s more man-pretty, or even prettier girl, than a handsome boy, don’t you think?”

I still can’t believe Maya agreed to tie herself down to a guy who is even prettier than she is, even if he does have the most glorious mane I’ve ever seen! Oh shit, does that make it sound like I’m disloyally dethroning my ex of her most fabulous hair title? Or do I just sound even gayer than a bag full of unicorns covered with glitter and tied up with rainbows for even thinking that?!

“Perhaps the surname Belle-fille was already taken?” His friend snickered. “Although I will accede that naming a son manly, handsome boy strikes me as his parents trying a tad too hard to strive for his masculinity. Although, I’m certain they couldn’t have anticipated that this would be the outcome for him!”

Do you mean the man ending up gayer than a stack of strawberry flapjacks and a tree full of parrots combined?

“So then I shouldn’t even touch the easily butchered first name of Long in Ass and the way too stereotypically gay middle name of Crispin?”

Overhearing this latest exchange between the two men behind him, Gumshoe, whose head never once swiveled around back to look at his friends, actually let out a loud snort of laughter, which he quickly attempted to mask as a cough. Maggey slunk further down in her chair in embarrassment, trying to shy away from the entire exchange as she hid her face behind her wedding program.

There was no time to answer Phoenix’s ridiculously inappropriate last question, for the minister had begun to perorate.

“Into this union, Maya and Longines now come to be joined.” The cleric grinned broadly. “Now, logically, I shouldn’t be asking this next question again after what happened earlier today! But … it’s part of the scripture!”

The entire congregation snickered, except for Pearl, who blushed furiously and lifted her nosegay to hide her face.

Sitting in the congregation back in her previously occupied chair between Sister Bikini and Matilda, Iris clenched Phoenix’s letter in her hand and stared down at it in utter misery. It was gut-wrenching to read, and she hoped any casual observers who saw the brimming in her eyes would chalk it up to typical wedding emotionalism.

So much love. So much loss. So much wasted time.

A single tear rolled down her cheek at the idea of the loveless marriage which awaited her poor cousin, along with the life of devastating loneliness her ex-boyfriend now faced.

If only I could make one last endeavor to help these two! No matter how badly things went down between Feenie and the bride before the ceremony, I would bet my life on the fact that if Maya had only seen this letter, there’s no way she would’ve gone through the wedding! I just know it!

Reverend Paesano continued to speak.

“Ergo… if any of you can show just cause why these two may not be lawfully wed, speak now, or forever hold your peace…”

Phoenix’s throat was suddenly dryer than the Sahara desert. He opened his mouth to interject, but no sound came out. He felt Edgeworth sharply elbow him in the ribs, but all that achieved in mustering out of him was a cough even louder than the Chief’s previous one. This time, the entire congregation turned their heads to look in the direction of where the sound had come from. Hastily, he ducked behind Gumshoe, grateful for the man’s obscuring broad frame, and quickly held up a wedding program, effectively hiding his face.

“Maya and Longines, by your presence here you are already making public your intention to marry. So that your integrity of purpose may be made clear to those of us present, would you each respond to these questions?”

The holy man turned to the groom with a strained smile.

“Longines, will you have this woman to be your wife; to live together with her in the covenant of marriage? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful unto her as long as you both shall live?”

“I so totally will!” Longines twittered jauntily.

Armstrong bit his fist in order to stifle a whimper as the minister then turned to the morose Master.

“Maya, will you have this man to be your husband; to live together with him in the covenant of marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful unto him as long as you both shall live?”

The bride remained dead silent.

“Go on, Reverend Paesano,” Mildred urged impatiently from her seat in the front row. “Go on!”

“With all due respect, I cannot go on until the bride herself responds,” Mel Brook’s clone replied dryly. “And I’m no ventriloquist either, lady!”

The cleric regarded Maya with concern as he bowed his head down towards her and uttered, sotto voce, “You know, it’s technically not too late to bail again, Miss. You’ve done it already once before…”

“Reverend Paesano!” Mystic Mildred’s voice took on a tinge of desperation now. “What she means is –”

“Maya has to speak of her own free will.” The Reverend stated firmly, shaking his head. “Sorry, I can’t proceed otherwise.”

And that was when Phoenix found his voice at last.

“OBJECTION!”

Billy Joel – Tell Her About It
Aerosmith – Dude Looks Like A Lady