Mutant Summit 6: Justin's Wedding

WE'RE GOING TO THE CHAPEL AND WE'RE GONNA GET SOOOO LOST...

Sue: Duckie, assuring us all that he'd spent so much time in Detroit that he was practically a native, graciously offered to drive point on our way to the church for the rehearsal dinner. Lissa and I piled into the car with him, while Drew and Lady Luck manned the chase car.

Have You Seen This Mutant?

Did you know that every, I mean EVERY street in Detroit is one-way? And furthermore that "one-way" is apparently the synonym for "wrong-way"? What was meant to be a five minute commute became a road trip worthy of its own cinematic glory. We went past abandoned factories, warehouses, empty lots, and possibly a Russian freighter run aground. (I just made that last part up, but if we'd kept going, I know we'd have seen one.) Dead ends abounded and at one point I'm pretty sure Duckie was doing donuts just to show off. The highlight was a quick dodge around the computer repair-liquor store in which we discovered a chain link fence and a lot of dumpsters. The worst part was, several times we spotted the spire of our destination. We just couldn't seem to get there from... well, wherever we were. At some point, Drew and Lady Luck abandoned us, but we still made it to the church before they did. Ha!

THE REHEARSAL DINNER...

Drew: Ah, the rehearsal dinner... with Justin convinced I hated him for the supposed embarrassment of Lady Luck and I at lunch (J, the woman openly admits to dating me... clearly she has no shame), I figured it was the perfect time to lay on the guilt trip and finally weasel a key to the MRFH executive bathroom. Sadly, Justin deprived me of the chance to fake tears by not even deigning to sit with us, instead just mumbling something about being with his fiancee and family or some crap like that... whatever. Sellout.

Notice that they're tilting. There is an EXCELLENT explanation for this.

Instead, Sue and I amused ourselves by discussing our respective applications and the bribes that gained us entrance to the hallowed halls of Mutantdom, our enthusiasm only slightly dampered by PoolMan's clarification of the ever-popular "dartboard" method of selection. Still, his helpful tips on how we juuuuust made the cut (and why reviewing Canadian Bacon and Strange Brew would be good for our tenure) gave me something to do between stuffing 863 fortune cookies in my mouth - Justin and Caramel both being big fans of Chinese food, which worked out well since I take to chopsticks like Carrot Top takes to subtle political satire.

However, there wasn't time to focus on my gross utensil incompetence, as Lissa's queasiness and shunning of all things alcoholic (a virtually unprecedented turn of events, as readers of Mutant Summit 4 can attest) revealed an even bigger secret: Duckie's boys can swim! Wait, I mean: Lissa is pregnant! When the news broke, everyone fell all over themselves to congratulate the happy couple who, in all seriousness, are going to make absolutely splendiferous parents, and who have already shot down suggestions of "Ash," "Buttercup," and "The Gimp," so just forget it. With the prospect of having a brand new MRFH mascot to replace Gigi (not that I'm comparing Lissa and Duckie's pride and joy to, um, a ferret) filling us all with good mojo, we were in high spirits for a video montage of Justin and Caramel's childhood pictures, set to the tune of grandiose John Williams scores from Star Wars, Indiana Jones, and Jurassic Park. While Justin got a little too teary-eyed at the Imperial March for my comfort, it was a very cool montage that I could never in a million years put together myself, so rock on!

Afterward, Justin stood up in front of everyone and gave a heartfelt, emotional speech thanking Caramel, his parents, God, and Ted Turner, then gratefully accepted his Oscar and walked off stage. With assurances that he would be bound to his bed with chains of iron to prevent any last-minute jitters, the meal came to an end; and, knowing we wouldn't be hungry again for at least an hour, the rest of us resolved to do what any self-respecting group of young film critics from all corners of the globe would in the situation- lay our hands on enough booze to kill a steer, hit up the local Blockbuster, and get to work!

Justin: The scary thing is, I can't even remember what I did or said to embarrass myself at lunch in front of Drew. Drew's eyes are this hypnotic blue that — I'm quite convinced but I haven't yet the time to test it — glows eerily in the dark. It's distracting yet alluring. Anyway, although I was probably the only sober mutant this weekend, I was also in a very weird place emotionally. Weddings are the culmination of months of planning, and in our case, very hurried planning. Then it's a constant rush to be with everyone, do everything, and for the love of Bill the Cat, don't screw up anything! So I think it was about Friday night when I became a bit unraveled, babbling and giving a teary speech to my parents that ranks up there in the most embarrassing moments of my life (not that I regret it).

It's probably a good thing Lissa had to go and do a delicate upchuck somewhere in the middle of it. Pregnancy or witnessing a guy out-womaning women? Your call.

Also, Drew was kind enough to not mention that the slide show montage that my father-in-law put together for Caramel lasted the approximate length of Braveheart. Patience was tested, tried and acquitted.

So after dinner and a few words with "the guys", I had to decline going out with them further and instead turn in for actual sleep.

BLOCKBUSTER VIDEO...

Sue: We prowled through Blockbuster; a pack of wolves craving fresh meat; or at least something very dead and wobbly to feast on. Let's face it, all we really wanted was something worthy of the combined power of four - count 'em, FOUR - mutants. (And loyal sidekicks of course.)

At Blockbuster. An Italian howl of pain sounds in the distance.

At first, we kept in tight formation - well, until Pooly turned around and demanded, "WHY ARE YOU ALL FOLLOWING ME?!" Technically this would have been because he was the only one tall enough to see over the racks, but apparently even very large Canadians are a shy and reclusive sort. (Ha!) We scattered to the four corners of the Blockbusterverse.

Pooly's hot hungry eyes latched onto Gigli. Drew clutched a copy of Blazing Saddles to his manly bosom. A spirited debate ensued. Luckily, while the guys were locked in mortal combat, wiser (which is to say, female) minds prevailed. Thus Monty Python and the Holy Grail was chosen.

Drew, Pooly and the others quickly pitstopped at Krogers for proper libations while Duckie, Lissa and I went back to the motel to batten down the hatches and soundproof the walls. As we exited the rental car, Duckie turned and said thoughtfully, "Hmm... I don't think I had the headlights on."

Duckie was starting to really scare me.

MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL...

Drew: Okay, no doubt everyone else has been tossing around snickering remarks about certain activities during the movie viewing, so let me just address the issue right off the bat — yes, I did drink enough to keep pace with a 6'2" Canadian who outweighs me by at least 30 pounds; no, I was not even close to being wrecked; and yes, this does qualify me for demigod status. Go sacrifice a yak in my honor, that I might breathe in the nourishing vapors from high atop Mount Olympus, then return. Question me not, mortals!

Deadly rabbits bring mutants together in harmony

Good. Now that that's out of the way (and to clarify, in that picture, those bottles weren't ALL drunk by Poolie and me... just most of them), where do I begin? With the flicking bottlecap war between PoolMan and myself, neither of us willing to rest until we'd shot our own eyes out? With Justin's buddy [crap, this is so embarrassing... J, I'm sorry, what was his name again? I'm so, so terrible with names... sorry, sorry (Sue: It was Lance)] confirming that it ain't easy to keep pace with the Muties by conking out halfway through, while Lady Luck — far and away the least geeky member of the party (yes, I'm marrying above my station) — simply rolled her eyes after a while, smiled, and retired to our room to sleep?

With the horrifying realization that, between all of us, every single line in the movie was quoted at least 5 times before the night was over? Though I'd voted for Blazing Saddles in the video store, I have to admit that Holy Grail was the perfect movie for all of us to watch together; familiar enough to everyone that we didn't have to pay much attention and could feel free to talk and MST3K amongst ourselves. If we'd had longer, it would've been great to properly eviscerate From Justin To Kelly or something, but on the eve of a wedding, I don't think any of us were in the mood for that kind of punishment... maybe next time. (Plus, no way were we putting ourselves through that kind of pain without our Fearless Leader present to share in the agony.) But as might be expected, we had loads of fun incessantly repeating lines ("What're you gonna do, bleed on me?"), ogling the huuuuuuuge... tracts of land, and debating whether anything, anything else at all, would've been better than the ending they went with. (Yes.)

Finally, the film over and all of us exhausted from our labors, Duckie transported PoolMan back to the soon-to-no-longer-be-Bachelorpad of Doom while I stumbled back to my room, clutching the bottlecap-shaped indentation in my forehead and plotting my revenge.