“What the hell kind of wedding planner are you?” Deborah asked.
“The kind who will make your wedding epic. So epic. Like, Star Wars meets Homer epic. That kind of epic,” Dave said.
“Okay, I get it, epic. But why do you want me to replace my wedding dress with a bikini and a chain around my neck?”
“It’s symbolic. It’s like, you’re throwing off the cultural norms and demands of a white gown symbolizing virginity while embracing your inner power and sexuality, but also making a commentary on social views of marriage as a binding institution, making you subservient to your husband, where in reality you are a strong and independent woman choosing to get married. Plus, Star Wars.”
“Okay, but no.”
“What do you mean, no? If you don’t wear the bikini and chain, then Michael being pushed in on a sofa while wearing a fat suit will make no sense.”
“It won’t make sense anyway!” Deborah shouted. “How is this good wedding planning?”
“I told you – ”
“Yeah, I know, epic. And you know what? You’re epically fired.”
Dave shrugged. “My fee is non-refundable. And the firing was hardly epic.”
Deborah threw the plastic chain and bikini at Dave before storming off.
“What a Bridezilla,” Dave muttered.