"You two are getting MARRIED?!" Flint was in his office smoking and reading the newspaper at around 11:32 PM when Sam and Max, the two freelance police officers that have an office right next door to his, came in suddenly and announced their engagement. He was shocked, to say the least.
"Yep! Me and Sam have finally saved up enough money from reckless poker games and dangerous detective cases to have a ceremony celebrating our devoted and undying love for each other!" Max cheered, smiling and squeezing Sam's hand in excitement.
"We're mostly going through with it because there's nothing else we can think of using the money for," explained Sam, "Plus, it's an excuse for Max to wear a frilly dress."
Flint sat with a furrowed brow and his mouth slightly agape. He breathed in and let out a deep and confused sigh, "Wait, I don't even," he paused and rubbed his face, "remember you two ever mentioning that you were even dating."
"Dates?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "Well, I guess our cases were kinda like dates."
Max held his face and giggled, "There's nothing more romantic than thrilling car chases, gunfights, and thwarting the evil plans of nefarious super villains with aspirations to take over the world!"
"I think our most romantic case was when we had to blow up that chocolate factory down the street for poisoning their sweets and kidnapping children for testing. The fiery explosions mixed with candy created some very beautiful fireworks in the night sky."
"If Sam didn't totally suck at photography, we could've gotten some nice pictures," Max mumbled while playfully glaring at his fiance. He looked back up at Flint, and his smile quickly faded when he saw his hands partially cover his almost completely sullen face. He slightly hid behind Sam's leg and said, "You're not mad at us, are you, Flint?"
Flint's eyes opened, and he brought his hands down from his face. The look from his face washed away when he saw Sam and Max's worried, and slightly sad, faces stare at him uneasily. "What? No, of course not, you guys! I'm just really," Flint paused again and sighed, "really shocked, is all."
"Shocked? Really?" Max said, "People have thought that we were a gay couple for years! And they were right about it!"
"Although, we'd rather have you shocked than angry," Sam admitted, looking relieved.
"Aw, I could never get angry at you fellas for something like this," said Flint, rising from his office chair and walking around his desk to get in front of them, "Yeah, it's weird, but I'll get used to it. Besides, who am I to go against something that makes you both happy, anyways?"
Sam and Max both smiled sheepishly, and Sam put a hand around Max's shoulders and brought him closer. "Thanks, Flint. That really means a lot."
"You're welcome, Sam-O," Flint replied, "So. . . can I ask why you came to tell me this so late at night?"
"Hm? Oh yeah!" Sam finally remembered what he was going to say after he announced that they were engaged. "You wanna tell him the news, little buddy?"
Max shot his hands up in the air and shouted, "We want you to be our best man at the wedding!"
"We couldn't possibly trust anyone else to do it, Flint."
Flint took a second to let that sink in. "Really?" he asked, "Me? Well, I'm honored, you guys."
"Does that mean you'll do it?" Sam asked excitedly.
Flint looked down at his feet and leaned on his desk as Sam and Max eagerly stared at him awaiting an answer. He looked back up at them with a smile on his face, and he gave them the answer they were hoping for. "I'd be happy to, pals."
Max sniffed, "I've never been happier in my entire life!" he said shakily as he wiped a tear from his eye.
Sam clasped his hands together. "Thank you so much, Flint!" He almost knocked Flint over when he quickly hugged him, wrapping his giant arms around his body and squeezing tightly. "I'm sure entrusting you with the responsibility of planning our bachelor party, which is an extremely important and meaningful day for us, as it represents our last day of freedom before tying the knot, won't come back and bite us in the ass later on after you make it super weird and creepy because of your ignorant views of homosexuality!"
"Y. . . Yeah," Flint gasped out, almost out of air, "C-Can you let. . . go of me. . . please? Big guy?"
"Not until you hug back, Flint."
Max cleared his throat. "Uh, Sam? I hate to interrupt. . . what ever the hell this is, but we need to get home."
"Oh, right. Sorry about that, Max." Sam let go of the detective and stepped back as Flint began to cough and wheeze. "Well, we should be going. We have a butt-ton of invitations to mail out in the morning, along with a whole wedding to sort out and plan. It's only a week away, you know."
As they walked out the door, Max asked, "Hey, Sam! Can we have that crazy Andrew Goldstein guy marry us? I'd like to watch him accuse our guests of eating his feces as we recite our vows!"
"Hell no!" The door closed behind them, and they walked down the stairs.
Flint finally caught his breath and stood in silence for several seconds after his friends had left. Then he finally realized what he had gotten himself into. "Oh, God. I have to plan a gay bachelor party for Sam and Max in five days!"