The wedding cake turned out to be poisoned.

I’ve never liked fruit cake and WTF is with marzipan anyway, so I lived. So did Great Uncle Georgio as he was asleep during the cake service.

We loved telling people about it on breakfast TV and on wedding blogs of course. It has turned into a cautionary tale about the very institution of marriage. No one would have been eating that overpriced confection except for the fact that Claudia insisted, that after all these years without a ring on her finger, if it didn’t happen soon she would ‘just diiiiie’. Ironic.

I don’t know who poisoned the cake, and I’ve convinced two lie detector machines and three juries of the fact…but I still think whoever it was did me a service that I can never repay.