"Do not press." Whoops too late! You see,

"Do not press." Whoops too late! You see, I wish they told me that before I

pre-heated my iron on "HIGH." And now my sister's bridal veil had an iron-shaped hole in it...and it's 30 minutes before she's walking down the aisle. She's gonna kill me!!

Fearing the wrath of Bridezilla, I looked around and found a few scraps of lace and tulle, and at record speed, I sewed them onto the veil, to cover the crispy edges. Maybe

... Oh no! Bridezilla noticed and, reaching for the nearest person, tore his head off. I'm a trained Wedding Planner, so I said brightly, "We're in the market for a new best man!"

and immediately threw a dart into the crowd. It hit the priest. "You sir are the new best man!" I shouted. Bridezilla shot a laser from her mouth and eviscerated him. Wedding plann

gine, especially since not too many of the children actually had any diabtes! Truth is, Preist Pat just had a lot of Insulin to go around and didn't wnt it to go to waist! Too bad

his elastic waistband was all ready stretched to its limit and quite uncomfortable. But that was the least of Priest Pat's worries now that he'd injected insulin into the orphans.

Now the orphans were going to be healthy, for once. They were sickly when they first arrived and had to weaned off chocolates and sweets. Then their blood sugar went down. Next.

Thank you Parson. Next we have the Arch Necromancer, Phidias Culpepper, to tell us about his project More Park Screamers by Moonlight. But when they looked he was gone. A phantom.