Sweat dripped from his brow as his fingers stumbled in their effort to tie the knot around his neck. Throwing his hands up in the air after what was now his third attempt, the young-man with the football-shaped head let out a low growl as his lips slowly began to curl into a frown. Hearing shuffling coming from the couch behind him, Arnold tried to distract himself by focusing on his reflection in the mirror, carefully avoiding the prying gaze behind him by readjusting the straps of his suspenders. He had hoped that his distress and struggles would go unnoticed, but the rough clearing of a throat confirmed what he already knew, his hopes were futile.
"Hm hm hm. Please don't tell me your starting to have second thoughts cause you know, it's pretty much too la …"
"Gerald! Would you just…" Turning around to berate his friend he was met with a sly smirk and raised eyebrows. Quickly realizing he was being bated, Arnold took a deep breath, and began to fidget with his straps again. "You're not helping, and would you wipe that smirk off of your face!"
"Yeah, Yeah I know, but you should have seen the look on your face. I haven't seen you this nervous since… you do know your fists are turning white right? Would you just relax already, your stressing me out! This is your wedding day not a battlefield… well on second thought…"
"Geraaaaald" Arnold whined. Quickly unclenching the fists he hadn't realize he had formed; Arnold went back to his attempts to tie his bow. "I am relaxed." He muttered, eyes darting wildly from his tie to the myriad of objects reflected in the mirror: his tuxedo jacket draped behind the chair in front of the armoire, the duffle bag propped in the corner near the closet, the closed casement window which let the sun's rays pour in, casting a soft light on his friend's scrutinizing yet handsome features.
Gerald was sitting on the couch across the room by the window. His legs were hanging precariously over one of the armrests causing his black dress socks to peek out from his black suit pants. His suit jacket, with the red rose pinned to its lapel, was on the bed to Arnold's left. Arnold watched apprehensively as Gerald lazily folded his arms behind his head, revealing a perfectly tied bow hanging from his neck.
"You shouldn't sit like that, you're going to wrinkle your tux, and you're right, I am nervous, but not for the reasons you think. How did you get this thing tied anyway? Haven't I always had to help you with your ties?" Dropping his tie onto the armoire he had just been using he began to pace the red-plush carpeted room. Gripping his blonde locks with his calloused hands he continued in a trembling voice, "Why am I the only one having this problem Gerald? What if this is a sign? What if she doesn't show up? What if I can't tie this knot? What if this is just a symbol for tying THE KNOT? What if I go up there and I don't have a tie? What if she…"
"Arnold! Relax! First of all, this is a clip on.." Gerald quickly unclipped his bow tie, rose from his comfortable seat and walked over to place a strong hand on his friend's limp shoulder. "because, you know, I can pull off anything. But, if you reaaaally want, I can lend it to ya." Gerald was shocked to see a sudden light in Arnold's eyes and the hope on his face.
Truth be told, Arnold surprised everyone by turning into what one could only describe as a 'Groomzilla'. The wedding was not only required to be perfect, but also authentic. Even the bride-to-be was shocked by his attention to detail - which was why Gerald didn't want to tell him about the clip on in the first place. Could Arnold really be that nervous? Hadn't he learned from experience the depths she was willing to go for him? Gerald's voice softened. "Look man, she'll show. How could she not? She's been in love with you since forever, like literally!"
"But you know how impulsive she can be!" Arnold suddenly started pacing again, moving out from under his friend's grasp and out of his reach. His footsteps grew quicker, his long legs bumping against the bed with each pass making him feel as if the room was slowly starting to close in around him. "She's so passionate and like you said, she's loved me for almost forever. What if she decides she doesn't love me? What if I am not really what she's always dreamed of and she realizes it? What if I can't even make it to the alter because of that monstrosity!" Arnold pointed an accusing finger back at the armoire.
"Arnold, you need to relax. She's not going to ditch, and if she were, we would know. My Phoebe has got a good head on her shoulders. She would definitely let you know before you even reached the…" Gerald's ear perked up as Arnold's face paled. Were those footsteps coming down the hall? The friend's eyes met confirming that they both had in fact heard the steps. Sweat began to stream down Arnold's face when a light rap was heard at the door. Gerald involuntarily dragged his feet forward.
"Gerald don't you dare open…" but before Arnold could complete his sentence, the knob turned on its own accord and a brunette's head appeared in the crack.
"Phoebe!" Gerald exclaimed before glancing back at his jaw-dropped friend. "What are you doing here?"
She must have heard something in his voice because a slight squeak was emitted before the young bespectacled woman was able to clear her throat to speak. "Arnold, I'm really sorry, it's just…" but before she could finish her sentence there was a thud. Phoebe's eyes widened hand rising to her mouth as Gerald turned around only to discover that the soon to be groom had passed out.
"Oh My…" Phoebe blinked away her shock before gathering her thoughts enough to shift her gaze to the only other conscious person in the room, her husband, whose wide eyes and open mouth only served to confirm that he was equally stunned by their current state of affairs. "Well this is quite unexpected. Gerald, what's going on?"
A resounding sound was heard across the room as Gerald's hand connected with his forehead. Ignoring his wife's question, he moved to kneel besides the groom, pulling him into a sitting position causing their backs to face the petite woman in the watermelon-pink dress. Lightly tapping his hand against his friend's face he addressed him softly, "Hey Arnold, Arnold, wake up man! Oh brother, what am I supposed to do with you now?" Forgetting the other occupant in the room, he let a small smirk grace his lips as he continued, "Man, if you wanted to avoid getting married so badly, there were better ways to do it."
Barefooted, with heels in hand, Phoebe stepped fully into the room, eyes narrowed dangerously as she glared daggers through her husband's back. Gerald shivered violently as he realized his mistake. He didn't have to turn around to know what was coming, and instead decided to avoid the storm temporarily by continuing to study his best friend's face. Even Arnold seemed to sense the danger he was in, nose wrinkling slightly as he let out a soft groan.
"Oh, so he's decided he doesn't want to get married has he?" Phoebe's short legs stomped across the room covering the distance to her husband in less than a millisecond. She couldn't believe this was happening. After all she had been through this morning: waking up at 6:00 am with the other girls for hair and make-up, speaking words of encouragement from then until just ten minutes ago when she was still soothing and alleviating fears she thought had no basis in reality. Had she been wrong about Arnold? If he had forgotten all of the beautiful if not eccentric qualities of her best friend and the promises he had made, maybe someone needed to help him remember. Raising her heels threateningly, her next word came out as a low whistle, "Reminding."
Gerald quickly rose to his full height, arms out in surrender, eyes pleading for mercy. "Phoebe, honey, wait!"
It wasn't often that his wife lost her temper, but when she did, she surpassed even the wrath of Old Betsy and The Five Avengers. Although 6 foot 1, Gerald couldn't help but feel threatened by his 5 foot 6 counterpart. Phoebe's eyes flickered from Arnold to Gerald, carefully scrutinizing his features. There it was, the hesitation, as well as his chance.
"I was joking, that is, what I just said was a joke, and this is all a big misunderstanding, so if you would just let me explain!"
Phoebe nodded in agreement. There was the charming woman he knew, always level headed and ready to logically work through the situation even when angered. God did he love her, but this wasn't the time to be amazed by his wife in the whatever color pink dress Helga chose with the clear fabric at the neck that showed off her perfect neckline - what did Phoebe call it again, illusion style? He thought it suited the asymmetrical bob she was rocking as of late, but once again, couldn't let her gorgeous presence distract him from saving his best friend's life. He created a situation and now he had to resolve it.
"Arnold was just worried that Helga was going to run out on him, and I was just assuring him that you would let us know if that were about to happen and then, you know, what do you know, you showed up and now we have…this." Gerald open hand motioned to his best friend.
Phoebe lowered her shoes and glared at her husband. "Mr. Gerald Johansen, I hope you aren't insinuating that I am to blame for this."
"No, of course not Mrs. Johansen. I am just explaining to you what I have gathered thus far. Any brilliant ideas on how to wake him up?"
"As a matter of fact, yes."
"Really? And what is this brilliant plan of …" Gerald full lips twitched at its corners as he folded his arms to his watch his wife roll-up the hem of her A-line dress. "Phoebe, you know how much I love those beautiful legs of yours, but may I ask, just what are you doing?"
"Certainly!" Pulling out a bottle that was attached to a makeshift holster on her thigh she knelt next to the unconscious blonde. "I am solving our problems, and before you ask, these are smelling salts. The most import compound is ammonium carbonate, which I've mixed with water in preparation for today. I thought that maybe I would need to use it on Helga, but I guess Helga's rubbed off on Arnold more than we had previously thought. This should be enough to wake him up."
Surely enough, a few whiffs of Phoebe's concoction did the trick.
"Ugh, what happened?" Arnold ran his hands over his face, blinking the spots away from his vision. His eyes quickly focused on Phoebe who seemed to be fidgeting with something under her dress. "Phoebe?" Arnold suddenly shot up from his position. "Where's Helga?"
Gerald reached out to steady his friend as he tripped in his hasty attempt to reach the door. "Calm down Arnold, it's not what you think."
"It's not?" His forest green eyes searched frantically for confirmation in the chocolate colored eyes of his friends. Unable to control his anxiety he blurted out the questions running through his head. "What's going on? Phoebe, why are you here? Where is Helga?"
"Arnold, I assure you, Helga is exactly where she should be. I am merely here to confirm that you are where you should be as well. It seems you two lovebirds have similar lines of thinking. However, may I suggest a little more faith in one another?" Before Arnold could respond, Phoebe glanced down at her watch and continued; "I think my lengthy absence will be cause for concern so if you don't mind I think I will be needing to head back soon." She smiled kindly as the young men nodded in understanding.
"Babe, before you go, do you mind helping my man Arnold here with his bow tie?"
"Why certainly! Arnold, I think you should be sitting down anyway." As Phoebe moved to help Arnold take a seat on the bed, Gerald retrieved the forgotten bow tie. "Arnold, this is a really important day for Helga, and I know you have put in a lot of effort to make it perfect, but remember, she just wants you, so be sure to enjoy your wedding."
"Thank you, Phoebe. You are a great friend." Arnold's compliment earned him a bright smile.
Wrapped in their conversation, the trio failed to hear the ruckus in the hallway resulting in their complete surprise when the door busted open revealing the other groomsmen as well as the Shortman family.
"Arnold, Gerald! We're back with the booze!" Sid called over the loud and boisterous laughter of his companions.
"Well it's about time! What did you bring?" Gerald walked over and reached into the paper bag his friend was carrying to pull out a bottle of Jack Daniels. "My man Arnold here needs something strong for the nerves. What took you so long anyway?"
"Gerald, I only agreed to a cup of wine. Mom, dad, grandpa! What are you doing here and where is grandma?"
"We went to visit Ms. Helga and ran into your parents and grandpa there. Ms. Helga sure is pretty ain't she Harold?"
"What are you talking about Stinky? When we walked in Madame Fortress Mommy didn't even have her dress on and she threw a shoe at us!"
"What!?" Arnold's face began to turn a light shade of red as his fists clenched at his sides and his eyes darkened as if the little green monster had taken up residence in them. "You peeped in on her when she wasn't dressed?"
"Son, calm down, she had her wedding robe on. We were there too." Miles placed a calming hand on his son's shoulder as his mom moved forward to take Phoebe's place adjusting his bow. "You don't need to worry." Phoebe meanwhile, took the opportunity to say a quick goodbye to her husband giggling at Arnold's ridiculous display of possessiveness before slipping out.
"She's beautiful, and don't worry Arnold, your grandma is out there entertaining the guests with the piano. Speaking of which, we should probably go and make sure everything is ready. The ceremony will start in about an hour." Stella leaned over to kiss her son on the cheek before linking arms with Miles.
"Go get her son!"
A glass of wine was placed in his hand by his grandpa who suddenly appeared at his side. Sid, who had been filling glasses, began distributing them to the members present. "Well Shortman, it seems you finally got your girl. We'll be waiting for you out there."
"Thanks grandpa."
"To Arnold and Helga" Gerald stated raising his glass. A resounding 'To Arnold and Helga' was heard in response.