Today was my big day. I am laced into my vintage 1860s wedding gown and my hair is taken down from its curlers. My makeup is done and my ringlets are securely sprayed.  Nothing will go wrong today.

I slip my delicate feet into my modest white pumps with a low heel. I don't want to ruin my feet on the happiest day of my life. I drape the gauzy veil over my face and I turn to the mirror. The frothy white expanse of silk and taffeta ballooned out thanks the crinoline underneath. I was ready.

I was escorted out of my chambers and from the estate. He would be waiting at the chapel. My servant opened the door for me, and I carefully stepped into the interior, draped in ethereal white velvet and silk curtains. The intricately painted carriage pulled by a majestic white horse pulled from my estate, from the home I'd known so long and learned to love him, and made my way to the chapel.

The carriage pulled up to the chapel.  I was ready.  They were waiting for me inside.  HE was waiting for me inside.  My handmaid opened the door and escorted me down.  She bunched my train into her hands and spread it behind me.  She then picked it up so that no dust would stain it.  I made my way to the door.  The flower girl was waiting by the door. The doors opened.

Everyone's head turned. Some people gasped. I heard someone sobbing. I put my foot forward. The bows on my pumps seemed to yell at me to continue walking.

And so I did.

And there he was. Dark eyes I could drown in. His beard and mustache were regally trimmed to perfection. His myriad of curling brown hair was partially obscured by his heavy golden crown, revealing him to be the king of the land. His pale gold suit was hidden by a richly embroidered overcoat, complete with exotic fur trim.

He was beautiful. When he saw me, his low words to the pastor trailed off. The organ started playing, but my bold footsteps still rang against the velvet. Every eye was on me.

My handmaiden had let go of my train and it trailed behind me. I finally reached the altar.

He took my hand. I took his. He gently took the veil over my face and pushed it back, exposing my natural beauty to him.

The pastor's words flew by.  The Burger King and I exchanged our vows without ever breaking the gaze between us. 

"And with the power invested in me by the Burger Patriarchy, you may kiss the bride.  I now pronounce you King and Queen." He put his hands on my waist, I tucked mine around his shoulders, and our lips met. 

A cry of surprise escaped my lips.  He had lifted me bridal style and had began to run down the aisle, his strong legs flexing as the cathedral doors burst open and we fled into our carriage.