I do not own American Horror Story: Freakshow.

And really, we aren't even in Freakshow territory anymore, are we?

The Lost Orphan Boy and The Daughter of the Jupiter Freaks

The Party Everyone Enjoys But You

And if things had been in overdrive before the wedding . . .

"We should be having sex right now."

. . . they were positively a blur . . .

"I know."

. . . now.

"Why aren't we?"

A still blur, perhaps.

"Because this lady is about to hug you, I think."

Seeing as how Annabel and Patrick weren't moving.

"Oh Annabel, . . ."

But everyone else was.

The reception line was very long.

And Patrick didn't really know any of them.

I guess I know you. I sold you eggs and potted meat the other day.

But he just kept smiling.

Your alpaca spit at Sam on my first day here.

And shaking their hands.

"That's a fine girl you've got there. She'll be a good wife to ya."

And holding on . . .

I requested that song for Annabel one time.

. . . to his dear darling . . .

She replied back with 'Honky Cat'.

. . . bride.

"Thank you."

For everything he was worth.

I'm glad she changed her mind.

Then there were pictures.

". . . the mothers and the bride . . ."

". . . -kay now the father of the bride and the groom . . ."

"Patrick."

"What?"

"If I kill her, can I eat her?"

"I think that's called cannibalism, Annabel."

"Okay! Perfect. Now let's bring in Moms and Dad!"

"But I'm hungry, Patrick."

"I know."

And then Annabel did . . .

"Oh my gosh, here, Patrick. Try this."

"Okay. What is it?"

. . . get to eat.

And . . .

"Oh my gosh, here, Patrick. Try this."

"Okay. What is it?"

. . . so did Patrick.

"Oh my gosh, here, Patrick. Try this."

"Okay. What is it?"

Some of it almost . . .

"Oh my gosh, here, Patrick. Try this."

"Okay. What is it?"

. . . against his will.

Jimmy did a toast.

". . . so proud of you. We just can't begin to tell you."

That nearly made Patrick . . .

". . . couldn't ask for a better addition to our family. We love you."

. . . cry.

". . . everyone who brought food and gifts and decorated and showed up. We just can't tell you all how grateful we are for all of you."

And then, probably sensing Annabel's impending explosion of emotion . . .

"So, I don't know."

. . . he ended it quick.

"Let's eat, huh?!"

They all got back to eating.

"Oh my gosh, here, Patrick . . ."

Again.

They cut the cake.

Annabel graciously not smashing it into his face as he had dreadfully and anxiously seen in some recent movie.

My nerves can only handle so much.

I'm doing the best I can.

And him not dropping hers . . .

Still doing the best I can.

. . . which was quite a feat unto itself.

The best part was . . .

". . . golden years . . . gooold . . . wha wha wha . . ."

Annabel, you didn't.

. . . their first dance.

I remember this song.

"I do what I want."

I remember thinking 'what if she really means it'. And then thinking I was an idiot.

"I love you, Annabel."

And now . . .

"I love you, Patrick. Now let's dance!"

Okay!

He removed the garter belt.

Annabel, stop giggling.

Without dying of shame.

People are looking.

Pretty much.

Found the outright gumption to slingshot it over his shoulder into the clapping, whooping crowd.

Sorry, Sister Daniel Stephani.

I think there was something in my champagne.

Watched Annabel toss her bouquet to the gathered unwedded husband-seekers.

Wow, it's like they're fighting over Scott Baio or something.

Got rice in his hair.

I don't understand this tradition.

We'll be attacked by birds for sure.

And stared in bewilderment . . .

What happened to my car?

. . . at his lipsticked, . . .

'Just . . . Married.'

Whose lips are those?

. . . tin-canned . . .

We sell that corn at the store.

. . . ribbon-festooned . . .

I hope that's not a driving hazard.

I don't want to get pulled over.

. . . VW Rabbit.

"Bye!"

"We love you!"

"Bye!"

And then . . .

"Bye!"

"Bye!"

"We love you!"

. . . they drove away . . .

Wow.

. . . into their honeymoon.

By the time they got to Tampa . . .

"Hello. Um, Mr. And Mrs. Anderson checking in."

I can't believe I just said that.

. . . Patrick was somewhere near giddy euphoria . . .

"Ah, yes, of course. Congratulations on your nuptials, sir."

Now I'm 'sir'?

"Thank you."

. . . and complete and utter exhaustion.

Giddy euphoria held sway . . .

"Oh my gosh, like, I can't stay here. I'd have to sleep on the floor!"

"No. You're going to sleep in that bed like the princess you are."

. . . as he swept Annabel up in his arms . . .

"Ahh, Patrick! Put me down!"

. . . and gracefully deposited her down on the bed.

"Oh my gosh, it's so soft!"

"Yeah. Yeah, it is."

Where complete and utter exhaustion immediately took over . . .

This is an unbelievable room.

Annabel is an amazing woman.

I can't believe she's having my baby.

I love being marri- huzzzzz

. . . for several hours until Annabel . . .

". . . Anderson . . ."

. . . took matters in hand . . .

"I'm awake."

. . . woke him . . .

Wow.

. . . up.

I mean, I wouldn't know about weddings or receptions. I eloped, thank goodness.

But still, they're good parties.

And I'm really glad I didn't have one. ;)

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!