The next day, the Monkees and Franky dropped by Aimee's house to see how she and her parents were holding up. They found Aimee and Ellen arranging carnations, roses, and bluebells into white and blue tissue paper.
"I can't believe this," Ellen grumbled.
"Uh oh," Mike sighed. "What now?"
"Remember you told Special Snowflake that you couldn't find natural blue roses?" Ellen asked.
"Yeah," Mike said. "And you want to know why I told her? Because they don't exist, that's why I told her."
"We showed her the bridesmaids bouquets with the roses you and Daddy dyed," Aimee said. "And when she saw them, she said, and I quote, 'No, no, no! I still can't stand dyed roses! Find a naturally blue flower instead! Oh and add carnations. White ones if you please.' Ugh."
"I am really getting sick of her!" Ellen shouted. "If she wasn't family, I'd definitely tell her to take her flowers and . . ."
"Ah, thank you, Ellen," Aimee cut her sister off before she could finish that sentence. "That'll do."
Mike was about to say something, when the group suddenly heard Fanny screaming bloody murder down the hallway.
"NAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOO!" she screamed stomping into the room with a large, gaudy diamond tiara on her head, and wearing a wedding dress with an extremely poofy skirt.
"Looks like Bridezilla's on the rampage again," Mike said.
"This is all WROOOOOOOOONG!" Fanny screamed. "THE CAKE IS TOO SMALL! MY TIARA DOESN'T HAVE ENOUGH BLING! THE RINGS ARE ONLY TWENTY-FOUR KARAT GOLD INSTEAD OF THIRTY! ONLY ONE THOUSAND PEOPLE RSVP'D! THE BRIDESMAIDS DRESSES ARE SUPPOSED TO BE ICE BLUE AND THEY'RE TEAL! AND THEY NEED MORE RUFFLES!"
"More ruffles, she says," Franky said, rolling his eyes. "She doesn't want bridesmaids, she wants Azalea Trail Maids!"
"I'm hip," Mike said. "Those things look like a bunch of carnations have exploded on 'em."
"And what's her beef with the cake this time?" Micky asked.
"You know how big the cake is?" Ellen asked. "It's about the same size as Aimee!"
"Five foot three," Aimee said.
"That's big," Micky said.
"I think she's startin' to sound ridiculous," Mike said.
"DOESN'T ANYONE UNDERSTAND THAT THIS IS MY DAAAAAYYYYY?!" Fanny screamed. "AND MY DRESS ISN'T POOFY ENOUGH, EITHER!"
"And that just proves it," Mike said, rolling his eyes.
"Was that a wedding gown, or a circus tent she was wearing?" Franky asked. "It looks like she blew that skirt up with a bicycle pump!"
"I don't see 'ow that dress can get any poofier than that!" Davy shouted.
"It's only one more day, fellas," Aimee said. "One more day until this whole fiasco ends."
"I just hope I can make it that long without killin' the Bridezilla," Mike said with a sigh.
Finally, after a lot of toil, sweat, tears, and thankfully no blood, the wedding was ready to begin. Wilton, the Monkees, Franky, and five other men stood at the altar. Pachabel's "Canon in D" began playing, and Ellen came down the aisle, grimacing and tossing blue and white rose petals around.
"At least Mac found a use for those dyed roses after all," Mike said to Micky.
After Ellen came Wilton's nephew, Forbershire. He had huge, thick, round glasses, and a bit of a pouty expression. It was obvious he wasn't happy to be there, either. Then came the ten bridesmaids. Aimee was the first to walk down the aisle in her overly ruffled very pale blue gown. She had a grimace on her face, and she really did not want to be here. Once all ten of the bridesmaids were at the altar, the organist began to play "Here Comes the Bride."
There was a slight problem, however. The bride wasn't marching down the aisle. Everyone looked at the back of the narthex curiously.
"Did she hear the march?" Peter whispered to Davy.
The organist began to play "Here Comes the Bride" again, right from the beginning, but nothing happened.
"Pardon me, everyone," Mike said as he got out his position and rushed toward the entrance. Franky and Aimee followed him. They were not a bit surprised to see Fanny struggling to squeeze herself through the doors.
"I knew this was gonna happen," Franky muttered.
"Get me through these doors!" Fanny demanded in a strained voice. Not only was her dress poofed out beyond reason, but the bridal salon added sleeves that were bigger than the bride's head.
"I don't think it's possible," Mike said, trying to hide a smirk behind his hand. "And I would hate to take the door off the hinges."
"Maybe if we try to remove some of those extra layers of tulle," Aimee suggested.
"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH THIS DRESS!" Fanny hollered.
"Well, unless you have a better idea, we're gonna have to hold this wedding outside," Mike stated while crossing his arms over his chest.
Fanny muttered some choice words under her breath before she heaved an irritated sigh. "Okay, fine! We'll hold the wedding outside! HAPPY?!"
"No, but at least you've come to your senses," Mike added sotto voce. He then went back into the chapel to inform the wedding party, the guests, and the officiant about the change of plans. Once everyone was outside, the officiant began the ceremony.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness . . ." he said.
Suddenly, Mike began to get a funny feeling. He looked up at the darkening sky, and groaned.
"Oh no," he said.
"What's 'oh no?'" Fanny demanded. She soon got her answer as a torrential downpour rained down on the wedding.
"NOOOO!" Fanny wailed as her bridesmaids held their ears and cringed. "THIS ISN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN ON MY DAY! MY DRESS IS RUINED! MY HAIR IS RUINED! MY FLOWERS ARE RUINED!"
"Fanny," Mike calmly started, "we know you're upset, but I think you might want to calm down."
"WHO ASKED YOU, YOU HICK?!" Fanny screamed. "DO SOMETHING! MAKE IT STOP RAINING!"
"Make it stop rain, whattaya make it stop rainin'?!" Mike shouted. "How do you expect me to do that?! I can't control the weather!"
"Well, technically," Micky said to Mike quietly so the bride wouldn't hear him, "you can make it stop raining, you know?"
"Yeah, well," Mike said, "I know that, and you know that, but the Bridezilla doesn't, and I ain't about to tell her!"
As her overly large bouffant began to wilt under the rain, and with heavy make up streaking down her face, Fanny turned to Wilton.
"Honey, do something!" she demanded.
"No, dear," Wilton simply stated.
Needless to say everyone gaped in shock over that statement, but none was more shocked than the bride herself.
"D-did you just tell me no?!" she stuttered before regaining her voice.
"Yes, dear," Wilton added with a smug grin before he turned around and left his bride at the altar.
"Come back here!" Fanny demanded as she tried to run after him. "You promised to love, cherish, and obey me all my life!"
Fanny then tripped on her overly big gown and fell face first into a mud puddle. Ellen, who was trying to stifle giggles throughout the whole soggy ordeal finally gave in and burst out laughing. Aimee followed suit, followed by Franky. Even the four Monkees struggled to retain her composure.
"STOP LAUGHING!" Fanny shouted as she tried to stand up, but tripped and landed on her rear in the puddle next. "THIS ISN'T FUNNY!"
"Yes it is," Ellen stated between her laughs.
Once the now drooping, muddy, messy bride was on her feet, she stormed up to Aimee, her parents, and the Monkees.
"This has been, without a doubt, the worst day of my life!" she shouted. "I never want to set foot in this stupid town as long as I live!"
"Good riddance!" Ellen shouted at Fanny's back. "So long, Special Sneuflake!"
"Ellen," Gina said, in a warning tone.
"I guess this means the wedding is canceled," Aimee sighed.
"I'd hate to see all that food go to waste, though," Gina said.
"I think I have an idea," Micky said.
"What's that?" Davy asked.
"A 'Hurray, the Bridezilla is Gone From Our Lives' party," Micky said. "After all, you guys paid for it!"
"Yeah, man!" Franky shouted.
And with everyone rushed to the hotel ballroom where the reception was supposed to be held to celebrate the end of a very long, very trying few weeks.
The End