Reverend: And do you, Antonio Romiro Romo, take this woman, Candice Crawford, to be your lawfully wedded wife?
Romo: (beaming) I do.
Reverend: Do you promise to love her, and cherish her, and support her; in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, all the days of your life?
Romo: I do.
Reverend: Then by the power vested in me by the great state of Texas, and as long as no one here has any objecti…
(church door flies open)
Jerry: YEEHAW! YEEEEEEEEHAW! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAW YEEHAW! Ain’t a real wedding until you got yerself the DOUBLE FUCKING J live in person! Everybody out of my way! OUT OF MY FUCKING WAY!
(walks up to the front row of the church)
Tony Romo’s Mom: These seats are reserved, sir.
Jerry: I bet they are, and I can see why, given what foxy foxy piece of one-eighth Tejano ass you are, my dear. But Jerry Jones ain’t sittin’ in the nosebleeds, no sirree. Not when his boy ROMO is about to make a woman of that fine lass standing at the altar! Now, these pews are lookin’ a little bit too blue collar. BOYS!
(contractors run into church, begin building massive walls around the first three rows)
Romo: What are you doing, sir?
Jerry: LUXURY. BOXES. This church isn’t competitive revenue-wise. We have to make it a better wedding day experience for the paying customer. Now, in each luxury box row, we’re gonna have ourselves a full wait staff service, with free drinks. And each row will have its own Papa John’s stand right on the aisle. PIZZA AND THE CORINTHIANS? YOU TELL ME THAT AIN’T SWEETER THAN SWEET TEA, CUNTLASHER.
Romo: But my friends can’t see past the walls.
Jerry: Don’t you worry about that. BOYS!
(contractors hoist giant LCD TV to church roof)
Jerry: I’m telling you, if you had watched the crucifixion on this puppy, you’d ejaculate right into your hymnal! DIDN’T I TELL YOU THE DOUBLE J ALWAYS DOES THINGS FIRST CLASS?! Wait till your daddy gets hisself a handjob in the second row from one of my Pew Gals. THERE’S NO BETTER PUSSY TO BE HAD THAN PUSSY IN CHURCH.
Now, I know you’re worried that I forgot to sell the video rights to HBO, but I didn’t forget! Sold them and made $5 million off the top. Bought you a nice place setting with some of the profits. Of course, all this fixin’ up of the church is gonna cost me and arm and a leg here. So I’mma need everyone here to agree to THIS voting ballot that raises all rental car, rental boat, and rental boytoy taxes in the county by .3%. And I’m going to need you to agree to give me 60% of all revenue you bring in as a couple from this day forward.
Romo: Well… um… no.
Jerry: WHY YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT! I’M THE ONE WHO RESCUED YOU FROM THE DAY LABORER SCRAP HEAP AND MADE YOU INTO A STAR! A STAR! Without me risking my ass in capital, you’d still be picking tomatoes for the Dole people!
Romo: You didn’t risk any capital. You just charged us for everyth…
Jerry: SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP LALALALALALALA. This is complex business thinking, young man! YOU’RE OUTTA YOUR ELEMENT! Stick with what you know, like bootlegs and salsa and fucking hot blondes! I AM LOCKING YOU OUT OF THIS WEDDING!
Romo: You can’t lock us out of our own wedding.
Jerry: WATCH ME! JERRY RICHARDSON SAYS IT WORKS EVERY TIME!
Wade: Sir, if I may…
Jerry: Well, well, well. If it isn’t the fattest fat fuck that ever fatted! How’d you finagle an invite to this, tubby? Are Romo and his old lady floating on you to the Caribbean when this is over? YOU BIG FAT CRAP.
Wade: Sir, these are just two young kids who are in love. Shoot, they’re just tryin’ to get married and settle down and live a sweet little life. There’s no need to go gussyin’ it up luxury boxes and big TVs and all that.
Wade: Are you reconsidering?
Jerry: No, I’m just wondering how many tiers of the cake your fat ass will eat before cocktail hour is over!
Wade: See now, that’s hardly the kind of thing you should say to…
Jerry: FATASS! FAT FUCK! NO ONE CAN HEAR YOU TALKING BECAUSE YOUR FAT IS BLOCKING THE WORDS!
(church door flies open)
Garrett: Mmmm. Yes. Indeed. Oh dear. Quite a pedestrian wedding, I’m afraid. Dear Jerry, do you realize there’s a man in a bolo tie outside this church smoking? Ohhhhhh, how low we’ve sunk as a culture. Certainly has none of the hallmarks of a good PRINCETON wedding. Oh, to be back in Princeton for a good eating/wedding. With groomsmen who wear proper oarsmen jackets. THERE’S NO FINER ATHLETE THAN A GOOD LEAN OARSMAN. Now, am I to understand that our young passer isn’t willing to heel to your demands, Jerry?
Jerry: THAT’S RIGHT! UNGRATEFUL LITTLE WETBACK!
Garrett: Well, that’s a shame. Seeing as how JON KITNA made such a nice showing in the latter portion of last season. Such derring do! Such moxie! And a fine haircut to boot! I could see him doing very good things for us in the future.
Romo: Are you serious? You’re gonna give Kitna my jo…?
Garrett: Whoa whoa whoa, we can’t talk football here, good man! THAT’S BEEN OUTLAWED!
Romo: But you just did!
Garrett: Oh dear oh dear oh dear. Here we were supposed to enjoy this happy non-football occasion, but I see that can’t happen without PLAYER BITTERNESS SINKING IN. It just shows you how undisciplined they are, Jerry. Without our watchful eye, they’re liable to do anything. Like RAPE. And MURDER. And get married in a congregational church instead of a proper abbey!
(door flies open, causes oblique tear)
MBIII: WHERE’S THE MOTHERFUCKING BITCH WITH THE CRABCAKES?
Romo: That doesn’t happen until the ceremony is over, Marion.
MBIII: WELL HURRY THE FUCK UP. MBIII WANTS A CRABCAKE. WITH EXTRA FROSTING.
Romo: You don’t frost crabcakes.
MBIII: I WILL IF I MOTHERFUCKING WANT TO!
Romo: Could everyone just please sit down so that I can get married?
Jerry: Fine. FINE. I’ll make that CONCESSION, and in turn you agree to a 26-game season.
Romo: I didn’t agree to that.
Jerry: AGREED TOO LATE SHUT UP.
Romo: Whatever. I’m gonna get married now.
(turns to fiancée)
(puts on golf hat)
(fumbles ring on handoff)
Reverend: Now, where were we? Oh, yes. By the power vested in me by the great state of Texas, I now pronounce you man and wi…
(door flies open)
Pacman: CHUH CHUH. Pacman hurrd bitchez at dis wedding. Pacman down widdit. Pacman gon tayk dat brydesmayd and pump gat gazz. Gon make dat pussy squirm and squirt. Gon make dat azz look lik a Slip n Slide. BULLEE DAT. And Pacman gon drank. O HE GON DRANK. U THANK HE AIN’T GON DRANK? Pacman say ain’t no drank drank till the pussy be bleedn.
Romo: I should have eloped.
Jerry: NOW MARRY THAT GIRL ROMO! I GOT SIX HOOKERS AT THE WHITE HOUSE IN IRVING READY TO CONGRATULATE YOU FOR IT! JUST DON’T FORGET TO GIVE ME A 60% REVENUE SPLIT, FUCKFACE! YEEEEHAWWW WOOOHOOO I AM FUCKING CRAZY!!