Ducks and Chucks,
Yes, Mallard Jones, my best frenemy, married two members of my chosen family this weekend—the Johnson-Johnsons. And surprisingly, I had a total ducking blast at the wedding itself! I didn't argue once with Mallard, which is unheard of. I even got to hose down the anti-throuple magpies who were protesting outside. (Have you ever noticed that bigot-birds always look better from behind?)
I didn't tell Mallard and the Johnson-Johnsons about the hosing, of course. Who'd want to rain bigots onto their special day? (When the married throuple asked, 'Where are you going with that gianormous hose?" I just said the steps looked like they could do with a scrub-down.)
The wedding banquet was amazing too, although they didn't have any vegan kippers. Among the high points were the Johnson-Johnsons bursting out of the wedding cake. Unfortunately, they mistimed it, so the cake just sat there for fifteen minutes while Mallard tried to work out where they'd ducking gone. But eventually, out they popped, covered in frosting. Mallard looked very excited about the "covered in frosting" bit, but this duck, being good with boundaries, refused to ask why.
Mallard looked STUNNING in a Vera D. Wang wedding gown. [Not to be confused with Vera Wang, who is not a duck-designer—Star] And I have it on good authority that he insisted on being carried over the castle threshold by his new spouses, even though they're both much lighter than he is. Ducking typical! (From what I hear, a designer wheelbarrow was involved. Can you ducking imagine?)
Anyway, the three of them are happy and that's all that matters. (Except for the fact that I got a kipper stuck to my rear and nobody ducking told me. I'm embarrassed that I kept asking everyone where the fishy smell was coming from. It just seemed to be following me wherever I went.)
What did Riley and I get him as a wedding gift? That would be the designer wheelbarrow.
Hope life is treating you well, ducks and chucks.