Sybil Comes Out Of Her S(h)ell

Our gallant captain Gus feared he was about to get a "Dear Gus" speech delivered in person as he was speaking with Queen Sybil about their future together:

She grinned. She’d been playing with me. The little bastard.

“How are the bars in Oakland?” she asked.

“I’ll take you to every one of them. But you have to promise me you’ll do something for Stupid George first.”

She bristled. “What?”

“Marry his captain.”

I detached a washer from the elbow joint of the new arm and offered it to her.

SIR (courtesy gender) SNUGGS! We're going to need a lot of white French lace hankies, and we'd best convene a n'emergency executive planning session of the Ladies' Embroidery Circle & Terrorist Society. A wedding is in the offing.

If dear practical Gus is able to get his Queen (17 master bedrooms) to the altar and properly married, they really shall be in need of the rest of their lives, as putting on a royal wedding is an exhaustive process. And a royal Conchan (beachfront access) wedding, even one immediately prior to a very large "For Sale" sign going up across the island, will be the social event of the season. I expect the palace will be entirely swathed in white tulle, as Her Majesty the Queen (all modern cons.)'s previous marital adventure was such a rushed affair at sea. And now she's going from a somewhat morganatic marriage to a common rogue, to a Gus-omatic one with a rogueish commoner. So very romantic.

I wonder if that daft artist chap Christo is available to do the bannery, signage and swathing? Perhaps he'd give them a discount rate.

And then, of course, it's that old problem of a mixed marriage, but it's been established that dear Queen Sybil, Protector of the Fluke (ballroom, State banqueting hall, 3 dining rooms, 3 reception rooms, private Whalish chapel) is quite Reform-minded.

Fortunately, all the sprucing up, refurbishing, remodeling, and clearing out that must be done for the wedding will make getting Conch (professionally landscaped grounds and public garden fete space available for day rental) a marketable property that much easier, once Sybil (location, location location) becomes Mrs. Overshaw (FSBO). Or perhaps they should consider signing the entire island up for that new home-makeover show, "Curb Your Appeal."

I should like to offer my modest establishment for a shower and act as hostess, with dear snuggs acting as my second - I know that's more properly a duelling term, but this means war (in the matrimonial sense). We must batten down the hatches and woman the gun ports to ensure a nice time is had by all and sundry. And invite everybody that we are reasonably certain is female, or presents an acceptable approximation of same.

If the dear Bride-elect is agreeable then it shall be an affair to remember.

I'm afraid that means no McFinsters, snuggs. Their attendance would be simply disastrous. However, a select allsorts of our dear male chums might be amusing company, and is terribly modern, and Leibniz might like to wear his old wig for giggles.

I wonder how Dead-Sexy Leibniz, Sexy Ken, and Adult Ed R will feel about wearing drag to the hen party? It's either that or the Subservient Chicken again for entertainment.

Note to self: must do something about that leaky faucet in the first floor gents'.