RAY—F.O.B.: (Father of the Bride): Hi, Herb. How’s the Father of that
HERB—F.O.G: (Father of the Groom) Pretty good, Ray. Glad you could
meet me here. How’s the Father of the Blushing Bride?
RAY—F.O.B.: Great, though I don’t think that girl has blushed since she
was 16. She still says things that make me turn red.
HERB—F.O.G: Kids today.
RAY—F.O.B.: I’ll say. Name your poison.
RAY—F.O.B.: Brandy and what?
Herb—F.O.G.: Brandy and anything I’m from Wisconsin.
RAY—F.O.B.: Well, bumps, Herb. What did you want to talk about? I
thought we had all the expenses assigned. I got hit the hardest.
HERB—F.O.G: Yeah, but in the old days, the Father of the Groom only had
to pay for the booze. Now, I’ve had to dig down for the flowers, the
rehearsal dinner, marriage license, clergy, corsages, boutonnieres, the bride’s
bouquet, groomsmen gifts, AND the liquor—whatever happened to “cash
RAY—F.O.B.: Don’t forget the band. You agreed to that.
HERB—F.O.G.: (SIGHS) Oh, yeah, I forgot. Who are those people,
RAY—F.O.B.: The Screaming Alewives.
HERB—F.O.G.: What do they sound like?
RAY—F.O.B.: Let’s just say they’re aptly named. So what else?
HERB—F.O.G: Well, the subject of the Wedding Plaque came up, and…
RAY—F.O.B.: Say no more, we’d be glad to pay for it. That will save you
HERB—Well, that’s just it; we don’t mind picking up the tab for a beautiful
plaque that commemorates this wonderful occasion.
RAY—F.O.B.: Nothin’ doing. Paying for the boutonnieres probably put you in hock. I
saw some wonderful plaques on the Atlas website.
HERB—F.O.G: We did too, and we know the kids will think of us whenever they see
the thoughts expressed on their Wedding Plaque.
RAY—F.O.B.: Well, what if we went halfsies?
HERB: Done and done. I’m glad we could agree. Say, old buddy, you
wouldn’t consider doing the same thing on the booze, would you?
RAY—F.O.B.: Not a chance in hell.