Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to watch me officiate my best friend’s wedding.

Can everybody hear me okay? Is the mic loud enough? Good. I became ordained online yesterday by the Church of Minimal Obligation; I therefore demand all of your attention for the next twenty minutes and the rest of your lives.

For those of you who don’t know me, Jennifer and I were besties from sixth through twelfth grade, as well as the one year of college before she joined a sorority and I was expelled due to my low GPA and arson conviction (unrelated). I am super honored to be the most important part of the most important day of my and Jennifer’s life.

Oh my God, I just realized I forgot to get you guys a gift!

Officiating your ceremony is my gift, right?

Was I supposed to get you a regular gift?

Or are you supposed to pay me for my services?

We never really talked about it.

No, it’s cool, we’ll figure it out later when you’re trying to enjoy your reception.

What is the true meaning of marriage? I wouldn’t know — I’m single! Fellas, you can find me at the open bar immediately afterwards, ordering vodka cranberries two at a time and not leaving a tip. Come say hi! I’m not a priest or anything. I just happened to be loitering in the parking lot when Father Lathrop went missing this morning.

Doesn’t the bride look beautiful? Don’t I look more beautiful? Isn’t it funny we’re both wearing white? I honestly had no idea what Jennifer was going to wear, or even that she was getting hitched today. It was just a lucky coincidence that I showed up at Shaky Acres Country Club with this ceremony script I printed off Martha Stewart’s blog.

Can you believe it? I wasn't even invited to this wedding, and now I'm in charge of it!

I would like to say a few words about the happy couple. Jennifer and I have been through so much together:

The time she accidentally applied to a different college than I did.

The time she dropped her iPhone in the toilet and couldn’t return my texts for a whole year.

The time her sorority house burned down.

And now, Father Lathrop disappearing without a trace on her Big Day.

We’ve experienced so many ups and downs on this crazy roller coaster we call friendship!

There, there, Jennifer, don’t cry. I can cry louder than you. And I have a microphone.

Hey, isn’t it funny that Jennifer’s sorority sister, Katelynn, is Maid of Honor? I assumed that since I wasn’t asked to be Maid of Honor, Jennifer wasn’t going to have a Maid of Honor at all. No offense, Katelynn. It’s great to see you. Your burns have healed nicely.

I shall now skip over the readings and improvise some slam poetry.

Roses are red

Violence is bad

I paid my debt to society

Why didn’t you ask me to be a bridesmaid, Jennifer?

Now, for the lighting of the Unity Candle. I’m not legally allowed within 10 feet of matches or lighters, so you guys are on your own for this part. Scratch that — the sound of rapidly approaching sirens means it’s time to get down to business.

C’mon, c’mon, get out the rings. I don’t have all day.

Jennifer, do you take me to be your best friend, to have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, especially Katelynn, as long as we both shall live?

Christopher, do you take Jennifer to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love, honor, and cherish her, and to keep me informed of her whereabouts at all times, ’til death do you part?

And do you both promise not to press charges if and when they find Father Lathrop?

By the power vested in me by the New York State Department of Corrections, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the officiant. I’m kidding! I’m kidding. Christopher, you may now step to the side so Jennifer and I can take a selfie.

Okay! Gotta run. If I don’t make it to the reception, don’t worry. We’ll have plenty of time to hang out on our honeymoon. That’s the kind of officiant I am, Jennifer — I’ll always be there for you, whether you like it or not.