I nodded sagely as I listened to one of the Chorus members tell me that the bride had been through recently. After a moment of thought, I remembered that the girl's name was Wilson - an odd name for a girl, that - and by the looks of the laugh she was suppressing, I assumed she was quite a zealot.
"Oh, Lord-of-the-Baconey-Infinite, thank thee for blessing us with such a proud Chorus this day." I muttered, adjusting my headdress.
Peering at the clock a moment, I marveled at the engineering genius that had designed such a device: a clock made of bacon; though it was a little hard to read, since one of the rabid altar-boys got the idea to munch on it. Thank thee, oh lord, for striking him down, and using my hand to do it.
"Keep to your practicing, you vagabonds. I want to hear some truly diabolical laughs out there, really lay the embarrassment onto whoever we find to ridicule... I'm serious, if someone forgets a vow, or trips, or the groom is silly enough to go through with it, just let it rip." I finished my oration with a bow that nearly dethroned the purple and black glory that rested on my head, then spun on my heel, and walked out into the chapel.
It was starting to fill now, a woman near the back was speaking to a lad holding a book of some sort, while yet another appeared to be eyeballing the pews with hunger. Near the back, a throng of guests was attacking our appetizers, partaking in the baconey body of His Divine Evilship.
Walking around behind the altar and the large portrait of the Oh-Great-One-Who-Doth-Grant-Us-Fried-Foods, I popped into the confessional. There were a few sins I needed to tell myself about before I'd feel clean again.