After that disaster, the Monkees drove Aimee back to her house. A delivery truck from the bridal salon was just pulling out.
"They must've delivered Fanny's wedding gown," Aimee said.
"This I've gotta see," Micky said. "I want to make some comparisons on how many ruffles this thing has compared to the bridesmaid's outfits!"
The minute Aimee and the boys walked inside the house, they heard loud screaming and things being thrown around. Ellen was laying on the living room couch, nonchalantly reading a comic book, with wads of cotton jammed into her ears. Aimee tapped her on the leg to get her attention.
"What's going on?" she asked.
"Special Snowflake's big fancy dress came," Ellen said. "And she's in there throwing a big, fancy temper tantrum."
Fanny then stormed down the hall, and into the living room, wearing a strapless eggshell white satin gown with a long train and a full skirt. The long veil was attached to a small silver tiara.
"Aimee, look at this dress!" she shouted.
"What's wrong with it?" Aimee asked. "I think it's beautiful."
"This is not what a princess' wedding gown should look like!" Fanny shouted. "The skirt needs to be poofy, and the bodice needs to be sparkly."
"I don't think it should be a problem," Mike said.
"Yeah, Mom could fix it up in a snap," Aimee said. "She's good at things like that. She can sew sequins to it in no time."
"No, not sequins!" Fanny shouted. "Those things are cheap and they shed all over the place. I meant with real diamonds."
"Diamonds," Mike repeated.
"Not rhinestones, or cheap glass diamonds that you can buy in a two bit craft store either!" Fanny yelled. "I'm talking about genuine one hundred percent diamonds. Preferably imported from Jwaneng."
"Jwaneng?!" Aimee, Franky, and the four Monkees shouted in unison.
"But those are some of the richest diamonds in the world!" Micky shouted, incredulously.
"I know, and they're the ones that shine the brightest!" Fanny shouted.
"You gotta be nuts," Mike said. "That's all the way in Botswana. Nobody could possibly go all the way there and be back lickety split in time to finish the gown for your wedding!"
"I 'eard DeBeers 'as a partnership with that mine," Davy said. "Why not just go there?"
"Oh, little Monkees!" Fanny lightly chuckled, before she grew enraged. "I WANT TO BE A PRETTY, PRETTY PRINCESS BRIDE! And pretty, pretty princess brides need to shine bright like a diamond. SO SOMEONE BETTER GET THEIR BUTT TO BOTSWANA AND GET ME MY DIAMONDS!"
Once again, the bride to be stormed down the hall in a huff, stomped into the guest bedroom, and slammed the door behind her.
"I told you guys you'd be sorry," Ellen said, not bothering to look up from her comic book.
"Well, I'd better go talk to Mom about this," Aimee said.
"Can't your cousin talk to her mother?" Mike asked.
"Are you kidding?" Aimee asked. "Aunt Norma can't sew to save her life. Matter of fact, Aunt Norma can't do a lot of stuff my mom is good at."
"I think we'd better make our exit, fellas," Micky said. "I kind of don't want to be around when Gina gets a load of her niece's latest idea."
"Good idea," Aimee said. "Because once she does, she'll raise the roof."
The Monkees nodded, and then took their leave.
"Hey, Uncle Peter, do me a biiiiiig favor," Franky said.
"Anything, Franky," Peter said. "What is it?"
"When I'm old enough to get married," Franky said, "and I wind up about to marry a girl like Aimee's cousin Bridezilla, shoot me quickly!"
The next day, the Monkees' rehearsal was interrupted by banging on the front door. Mike glanced at the calendar on the wall.
"It ain't rent day," he said. "Wonder what Babbit's poundin' at the door for now?"
Peter answered the door, and Aimee came flying in, looking like she had just seen a ghost.
"Guys, I need help!" she practically begged.
"What's Bridezilla up to now?" Micky groaned, rolling his eyes.
"She wants her bouquet to match the wedding colors," Aimee explained.
"Why is that so upsetting?" Davy asked. "Just take some white roses, and you can find some nice blue flowahs, and then . . . ."
"She wants her bouquet to be roses only!" Aimee shouted.
"Oh . . ." Davy realized. "Yes, I can see 'ow that can be distressing."
"I know, right?" Aimee said. "Have you ever seen a blue rose that isn't dyed?"
"No, I haven't," Mike said. "Wait a second, why isn't the bride telling us this herself?"
"She sent me to do it because she's too busy at some spa or another getting pampered," Aimee said. "And she couldn't send Mother because she's too busy trying to get diamonds to sew on her stupid dress!"
"Oh boy!" Mike slapped his forehead.
"I've been to every florist in town and they all just laughed in my face!" Aimee shouted, almost in tears. "I don't know what else to do!"
"Take it easy, love," Davy said, trying to calm down the thirteen-year-old. "It'll be okay."
"Let me see what I can do about a blue rose," Mike said. "I can't guarantee anything, but I'll try."
"Thanks, Mike," Aimee said. "You're a lifesaver!"
With that, Aimee left. Mike sighed, and snapped his fingers. A seed catalog appeared from out of nowhere in his hands.
"I thought you weren't going to use your magic on this," Micky said.
"I'm not," Mike said, looking through the catalog. "Not unless it's necessary. I don't want to rely too much on it. I wonder where I'm going to find a flower that looks close enough to a blue rose to fool the bride? I wonder if anybody has any experience with rose hybrids?"
After tearing through every single seed catalog he could, and unable to come up with anything, Mike went to Aimee's house to tell her the bad news. The minute the door opened, he heard Fanny yelling.
"WHEN I SAID TEN INCH HEELS I MEANT TEN INCHES!" she shouted on the phone, as she flung a white high heel shoe at the wall. "THAT WASN'T HYPERBOLE!"
"Hi, Mike," Mac said, sounding a little tired.
"I see Princess Charming's still at it," Mike said.
"That's putting it mildly," Mac sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I have a few choice words for her, but since her mother is my mother's favorite, I'll bite my tongue."
"No, no, no, you moron!" the bride to be yelled. "Don't you know how to do anything?! LILY WHITE, YOU DIPSTICK! NOT EGGSHELL, OR CREAM, OR ECRU!"
"You know, when we asked Aimee what her cousin's name was, and Aimee said Fanny, and then Ellen said she was one," Mike said. "Now I know what she meant."
"Don't let my mother hear you say that," Mac said. "So what brings you over here, Mike?"
"Bad news, I'm sorry to say," Mike said. "Aimee came over about tryin' to find blue roses. But there's a problem. They don't exist. Not natural ones, anyway."
"I was afraid of that."
"I don't know what else I can tell ya, Mac."
"We'll just have to dye some, I guess."
"Well, let's you and me call around and see if we can get some dyed flowers, shall we?"
Mac nodded, and heaved a sigh. This was not going to be an easy day.
Later in the day, Fanny and Aimee went to the bridal salon to see the alterations Fanny had asked for. Peter and Franky went with them, and were waiting for both of them to come out of the fitting rooms.
"They had better be the best dresses I've ever seen!" Fanny called out in a demanding tone.
"It'll take a miracle for that to happen," Franky muttered to his uncle. Peter gave him a swat in the arm.
"Be nice," he warned.
Moments later, Aimee walked out clad in her gown. She looked more like an Azalea Trail Maid than a bridesmaid. Fanny came out a few moments later, took a look at her own gown in the mirror, and burst into tears.
"WAAAAAAH!"
"Oh brother," Franky groaned, rolling his eyes.
"What's the matter now?" Peter asked.
"THIS IS ALL WRONG!" Fanny wailed at the top of her lungs. "The bridesmaid's dresses are supposed to be ice blue, not teal! And they need more ruffles!"
"More ruffles?!" Franky shouted. "You gotta be kidding me!"
"My tiara is too small and it doesn't have enough bling, either!" Fanny whined on. "And my dress isn't poofy or sparkly enough!"
"That skirt is about as puffed up as a marshmallow on steroids," Franky said. "Any poofier, and you won't be able to fit through the chapel doors!"
"I demand you fix this at once!" Fanny shouted at the salesgirl as she stormed back into the fitting room to change.
"What is she thinking?!" the salesgirl asked, about ready to kill someone. "These are ice blue!"
"I'm so sorry about my cousin," Aimee said. "She's an only child, and used to getting her way."
"Sheesh," the salesgirl grumbled. "Back to the ol' drawing board I guess."
There wasn't much that could be done after that. After Fanny and Aimee changed, the quartet went back to Aimee's house, and found Mike and Mac taking some white roses out of some blue dye.
"What are those?" Fanny demanded.
"Well, we couldn't find any way to get natural blue roses, so we had to resort to dyin' them," Mike explained.
"No! No! No!" Fanny shouted as she stomped around the kitchen. "How dare you tell me you couldn't get natural blue roses! This is unacceptable!"
"Well, if you can tell me where to find natural blue roses I'll be glad to get some," Mac said.
Fanny was about to retort, but realized her uncle had a point. She then groaned in disgust.
"Fine, I'll take the crummy dyed roses!" she shouted. Then she turned to Mike. "But it's all your fault if they look bad in my bouquet!"
With that, Fanny stormed off. Mike was about to give her a good zap with his magic, but Franky and Peter stopped him.
"Not in front of Aimee and her dad!" Franky hissed. "They don't know you're half warlock!"
"Sorry," Mike said. "I lost myself for a minute there."
The next day, Fanny paid another visit to the bakery, with Aimee in tow. Micky and Davy went with them to make sure Fanny didn't go too nuts. Judy and Mrs. Baxter were adding the finishing touches to the cake.
"Oh, perfect timing!" Judy beamed. "So, what do you think?"
Fanny gave a scrutinizing glance at the five tiered cake decorated with white buttercream frosting and blue fondant roses.
"The cake alternates vanilla and chocolate," Judy explained. "That way all your guests can choose which one they want."
"Not big enough," Fanny curtly replied.
"What?" Mrs. Baxter asked.
"You heard me!" Fanny shouted. "Also it won't be fresh in time for the wedding."
"Excuse me?!" Judy asked.
"I want it fresh, as in piping hot out of the oven before the reception begins!" Fanny demanded.
"You must be joking!" Davy shouted.
"Hey, lady, do you know how long it takes to bake a cake like this?" Micky asked.
"I WANT FRESH CAKE!" Fanny roared as she swiped the middle tier with her hand, causing the entire cake to fall down.
"Hey!" Mrs. Baxter cried in anger. "We worked hard on that! Who do you think you are?!"
"Who do you think you are!?" Fanny retorted. "I'm the bride, and I demand fresh cake for my wedding! It also needs to be twenty tiers at least. Also replace the chocolate with vanilla. And make sure you change the frosting to white chocolate instead. Buttercream is too gross and nobody likes it!"
Mrs. Baxter and Judy stared at their fallen cake with dismay.
"All that hard work . . ." Judy moaned. "And we spent at least five days making sure it was just right. Now we're going to have to start all over again!" She then let out a few whimpering sobs.
"I'm really sorry," Aimee said. "Please, Mrs. Baxter, don't hold it against my family. We're not all that bad, really!"
"I think this is our cue to split," Micky said, and he, Davy, and Aimee slunk out the door.