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The Best Man Speaks After Three Margaritas...

By H.G. Miller

...two Turkey shots, a vodka-cranberry and two healthy doses of Dayquil.

His words slur slightly, and a minimal amount of previous presentation training comes into play.

“Aaron, my friend…

I mean, John. John got married. Right. Aaron said he'd never marry that ice queen Cassidy.

Hey, Cassidy.

So, John. John's my friend, too. You're all my friends today. But, John's my friend getting married. Wow. Married.

Honestly, I never thought you'd get over Lesley. I mean, just the other night, you were telling my how you'd give up Jana in a second if Lesley came back into your life. And, you did it anyway. Got married.


You got balls, man. And now, they belong to Jana.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha…

Okay. Let me tell you a story. 'Bout John. When we were thirteen. We found this magazine, right. Oh, wait. That was Aaron. John… what did we do? I don't know. Smoked a lot of pot, hey buddy?

Oh, whoops. Parents are here. Just kidding Mr. And Mrs. Walters. John's a straight guy. A good man. My buddy.

Whew, I'm getting dizzy.

What else am I supposed to do? Toast! Right, this is a toast. Any butter, anybody? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha…

Man, you people need to lighten up.

All right. Raise your glasses high. To John and Lesley - I mean Jana. John and Jana… Ja ja ja… ha. Ahem. John and Jana.



There follows some light applause, but it is more out of habit and none is really meant to be polite.