"I can't believe you flew me out here for this," Joseph Birdsong found himself muttering. "This is why I don't let you out of my basement, Sam. I take my eyes off of you for one minute and you already do something stupid."

"Wheeeeee?" Sam Ravioli replied in a near nauseating, ear splitting kind of manner that sent a shiver up Joe's spine. "How can you call this stupid? Don't you understand true love, Joe?"

Joseph rolled his eyes, already glancing down to his Hello Kitty phone as if to distract himself from this situation. Here he was, standing in Sam Ravioli's kitchen. He was currently jet lagged after flying from the middle of nowhere in Arkansas to the middle of nowhere in Montana, which was substantially worse because Sam was here. What he had thought would be a tolerable visit where he could get drunk with his friend had quickly turned into a catastrophe, and all it took was five words from his friend to ruin any chance Joe could have at relaxing.

"What do you mean you're marrying your rice cooker?" Joseph snapped. Already he could see it behind Sam on the counter of the kitchen, and the sight of it made his stomach twist. He could feel his jawline tightened in annoyance. "He's not even rich."

"I thought you would be more supportive of me and Ricey," Sam said, his eyes casting away in an almost hurt kind of way.

"Why the fuck are you calling it Ricey?" Joe questioned.

"Rice Cooker is his working name, Joe." Sam said as he began crossing his arms in a defensive manner. "And he may not be rich but he has aspirations of being a world class chef one day!"

"You only hired him because you're too stupid to boil water and throw some grains in," Joe said, pointing angrily at the device on the counter. It sat there motionless and lifeless. "He can only cook that one thing, Sam!"

"You just don't understand," Sam said, turning away. "You married a hedgehog, didn't you? Why can't you understand my love."

"Of course I married Sonic," Joe replied. "He's rich as fuck. Do you know how many cardigans I've bought this week alone? I cardi-can. Fifty."

"I can't believe you're making a shitty pun during my engagement announcement." Sam said when his eyes snapped to Joe's own. Joe might have realized they were watering with a well of emotions if he wasn't so distracted by the fact that Sam's skin was so perfectly clear that he contemplated for a moment how rational it would be to rip it off. He felt jealousy for his friend's naturally clear skin for a moment and felt it only fuel his irritation.

"Is this some kind of shotgun wedding?" Joe asked. "What happened to Knuckles?"

"Well," Sam began, pulling on the collar of his v-neck as though to fan himself. "Knuckles can't love me the way Ricey has. If you must know, me and Ricey are… expecting."

"Oh my fucking god," Joe threw up his hands. "How in the ever loving fuck did you…?"

"We made a mistake," Sam said, his eyes casting away in embarrassment. "I plugged him in a few weeks ago, and he got a little steamy."

"He's a rice cooker, Sam," Joe snapped. "That's all he fucking does is get steamy."

"I know, how could I have resisted?" Sam threw back, his voice loud with emotions. "He looked into my eyes, I looked into his large gaping hole where rice goes, and we got a little drunk. He completes me, Joe. He does the one thing I can't do. Cook rice without ruining it!"

"Oh my fucking god," Joe repeated for what felt like the hundredth time as he put his fingers onto his temples. He resisted the urge to pull out his phone and call everybody he ever knew that he wasn't the one who made the worst decisions in his life, but second none other to his best friend. But then he realized, nobody would care. In fact he didn't even care. For the past five minutes he had been on autopilot and thinking of just how this rice cooker and Sam were expecting. "Sam you can't go through with this."

"Ricey tells me I'm the only one who accepts me," Sam said, putting his hand over his heart. "He's tried everything to find the one. He's been on Grindr but every profile he finds says 'white only no rice' and he doesn't believe me when I tell him they're just racists. He may be a little bulky but I still love him, and I know he loves me."

"Has he actually said "love" to you?" Joe asked, using quotation signing with his fingers on that word.

"O-Of course," Sam stuttered. "Well, not verbally. He's not very talkative, but it's what I like about him. He's a listener. He makes me rice every day, and that's enough for me."

Joe rolled his eyes. He kept rubbing his forehead and let out a long winded, loud sigh as he felt an oncoming migraine. He wanted to get drunk off his ass on boone's farm and forget this entire evening.

"Actually," Sam continued when it was clear Joe wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of responding. "Joe, I asked you to come here for a very important question. It's… It's about the wedding."

"Oh my gawd!" Joseph replied in his thick southern drawl. He put a hand over his chest, suddenly all of his irritation fading away when he realized what was happening. He felt his chest swell up and his eyes brim with tears that might have just been a reaction to the lack of face cream he had applied to his face in the past twenty-four hours. "Are you asking me to be your best man?"

"No," Sam said flatly. "Actually I wanted you to not be anywhere near the wedding."

"Oh…" Joe said, his words trailing off.

"I'm asking your husband to pay for the wedding," Joe said. "I can never catch Sonic on the phone when I try to call him. I guess he's just too…"

"No," Joe said.

"Fast!" Sam finished.

"No," Joe repeated.

"Pew pew pew!" Sam said, firing off what looked to be guns with his fingers.

"I hate you," Joe said.

"I mean, honestly, I hate me too." Sam laughed. "No but seriously we're broke as all hell."

"Can we just not, right now?" Joe said.

"C'mon Joe, it's the least you can do after locking me up in your basement all those months," Sam whined, bouncing on his toes in protest.

"Oh, c'mon," Joe replied, rolling his eyes again. "Fine, I'll talk to Sonic about it. But if I so much see an invitation to this shit show wedding I'm burning it along with the money we send you."

"You're the best, Joe!" Sam said, throwing open his arms to hug Joseph.

Joe lifted his hand in disgust, pushing away Sam. Despite his limbs being thinner than eaten chicken wing bones, he had a surprising amount of strength to push his "friend" away.

"I'm too famous to be touched," Joe replied in disgust. He turned away once he looked up to see the rice cooker. It simply stared at him. It made him feel disgusting. He turned to leave, walking out the door and as far away from Sam as he could.

In a few month's time, the wedding was held. Joe watched it all from his computer on social media, repeating to himself "Oh my god" every time a new photo was posted. Life continued as normal in Sam's new married life, and in nine month's time he delivered a healthy, beautiful bag of rice.

And they lived happily ever after. Except for Joe, who still thought it was kind of stupid.