Mark had been standing at the altar for 45

Mark had been standing at the altar for 45 minutes, but he was willing to give Jess the benefit of the doubt. His "innocent until proven jilty" outlook came back to bite him when

he realized he was at the wrong wedding. He turned around, this wasn't his beautiful wife. Out the window: that wasn't his automobile. "My God, what have I done?" screamed Mark

He stared at his wrist as the $20 Armitron melted off and his non-bride stood hands clasped in front, a part of the furniture. The veil hung in down and Mark feared what he would

become if he couldn't find a way to reanimate his bride. Mark shook the thought off & took stock of his situation. He'd been in worse scrapes. He just had to access the lab at his

secret underground base. He knew he would be able to find all the tools he needed to bring his future wife back to life there. The only problem was that he had lost the key, and he

Sure, maybe he could manage popping a kneecap or something but what he really wanted was to ride his horse around. Hero's quest could wait, first he could use a taco

enema. Newest craze on the west coast and helped him sit more comfortably in the saddle. Peering around the corner to avoid Hero, he made a beeline to La Groceria, where he could

buy a sandwich, maybe, he wasn't too sure. But behind the baytree pyramid lurked Hero with a semi-automatic. Outrageously, La Groceria hadn't allowed Hero in with the rifle which

was a violation of his second-amendment rights, surely. "I retain the right to frighten a bunch of strangers and demand their trust!" is the brunt of his whole entire argument.