"I do."

Rosalie felt the laughter welling up in her belly, ready to explode, but she tried her best to hold it in. Weddings were not the appropriate place for such hysterical laughter, no matter how hilarious they were.

"And do you, Ernest Thurst, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

It was really quite impressive, how well Ernest managed to keep a straight face as he answered, "I do." He grinned and winked at Rosalie and leaned forward until his forehead was touching hers. Rosalie giggled and leaned back, and then quickly leaned forward again as they both nearly toppled backwards.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," Elvis said, and he giggled a little himself. He had been ordained that morning, and this was his first wedding. "May I now kiss your bride?" he asked Ernest.

"You may not!" Ernest declared indignantly. He grabbed Rosalie and swept her up into his arms. "Now we shall storm out in proper newly married fashion!"

He got about halfway down the aisle before tripping on his feet and dumping Rosalie on a bench. Rosalie stared at him in shock for a second and then threw back her head and laughed uproariously.

She woke up with a hairy feeling tongue and Ernest's face pressed in next to hers, breathing foul-smelling air in her face. Or pure alcohol – it smelled like pure fumes. She groaned and rolled over to go to Ernest's bed. It wasn't the first time she had woken up with Ernest in bed with her. They had been roommates for nearly a decade now, and Ernest was a terrible sleepwalker.

It was however, the first time she had woken up in bed with Ernest while wearing what looked to be a wedding dress.

"Well, that's interesting," she slurred; staring at the frilly white thing she was wearing. She reached down and pulled up her skirt to check – yup, she was wearing a garter.

Despite this odd situation, she still found sleep more enticing than discovering the origins of this mystery. However, when she got to Ernest's bed, she found it was already occupied by Elvis and a fuzzy pig.

"Um…" she poked Elvis's cheek. "Elvis. El. El, wake up."

Elvis groaned and pushed her finger away and turned over, pushing the pig out of the bed as he did so. The pig snorted indignantly and crawled into a pile of clothing in the corner of the room. Rosalie turned around to try to wake Ernest.

"Ernest. Ernie. Ernie. Wake up."

"Ur…What? Rosie? What time is it? Shit, are we late for exams?" Ernest sat bolt upright and then immediately groaned and clutched his head. "I don't think I'm going to do very well…" he said.

"I'm sure we already finished exams," Rosie said. "The last one was yesterday, but then," she pointed to the tux that Ernest was wearing. "What do you suppose that's all about?"

Ernest finally gave Rosie a proper look, and then he started to laugh. "Rosie, you look ridiculous!" he said. Suddenly his face took on a deeper greenish tinge, and he clutched his stomach and his mouth simultaneously. "Ulp!" He rushed to his feet and to the bathroom, where Rosie could hear him retching. She rolled her eyes and flopped down on her now vacant bed. Ernest almost always got sick after a night of drinking, and she was forced to listen to it in the morning. It was a sound she was quite used to, but it was one she would never learn to enjoy.

After a bit Ernest reappeared. "Well I feel infinitely better," he said. "Now tell me, why are we dressed in fancy clothes, and for that matter, why is there a peccary nesting in my dirty laundry?"

"Is that what it is?" Rosalie mused, staring at the fuzzy pig.

"Is that Elvis?"

Rosalie looked over at the man sleeping in her bed with a frown. "Yes. He stole your bed, probably after you stole mine."

"Hey, I let you share it!"

"I think he's the one who stole the pig-"


"-but I don't really remember what happened last night. You?"

Ernest shrugged and shook his head. "Seems like it was a good time though, doesn't it? It's not very often that I wake up with a beautiful man in my bed and a peccary in my closet."

Rosalie grimaced at Elvis. "You think he's beautiful? Really?"

"Just because he's not your type…"

"I mean, he just seems like the kind of guy who, when he reaches seven or eight hundred, is probably going to let himself go and become overweight and ridiculous. He's just too much. You really think he's beautiful?"

Ernest nodded and blushed. "But there's no need to tell him that."

"Of course, I know," Rosalie replied with a wave of her hand. "Anyway, you want to go for a coffee? Mm, and some greasy breakfast."

Ernest looked a little queasy again at the mention of food, but he answered, "Coffee, yes. I could go for coffee."

They walked down to the school cafeteria together. The food wasn't the best, but it was the cheapest and closest place to get breakfast. Rosalie didn't have to worry about the money – though her dad had cut her off when he found out about her desire to become a reaper, Curtis was funding her time at university in his place. Ernest, on the other hand, came from a pretty poor family, and he was reaching the end of his month's budget.

Ernest got a cup of coffee and Rosalie got a glass of orange juice, a pot of tea and a plate full of fried foods – eggs, bacon, sausage, beans, tomatoes and hash browns. They slid onto a bench away from the windows and sunlight and Rosalie tucked in with delight.

Ernest made a disgusted face as he sipped his coffee. "How can you even eat so much ever? Don't you feel gross after so much fried food?"

Rosalie grinned around a mouth full of eggs and tomato. "I'm an old lady," she said, "I don't care what other people think about me anymore – I'm going to eat what I want!" At nearly thirteen hundred, Rosalie was one of the oldest students in their program, and Ernest, at two hundred and twenty one was one of the youngest. One of the youngest ever in fact – he was a bit of a boy genius. He put Rosalie to shame when it came to test scores, but if it weren't for her, he would probably never leave their room. In typical genius fashion, Ernest wasn't very sociable, but Rosalie was more than sociable enough for the both of them.

"So… is it just me, or do you remember being at the zoo last night?" Rosalie asked.

Ernest rubbed his forehead. "Maybe…? Do you think that's where the peccary came from?"

Rosalie looked over at a couple of guys sitting near their table. One of them had a newspaper under his elbow, and she leaned over and put her hand on it. "Do you guys mind if I borrow this?" she asked, and without really waiting for an answer she pulled it away.

"Here it is," she said, finding an article and showing it to Ernest. It was nearly a full-page article, with a big picture of a single peccary standing in an enclosure. "Zoo Break-In, Peccary Stolen" was the caption, and upon further reading, she discovered that this particular species of peccary live in pairs. "Aww, we did this!" Rosalie exclaimed. "We made this peccary lonely! We've got to make this right!"

"And what do you propose we do?" Ernest asked. "Walk up to the zoo with our peccary and return it. Say, "Sorry, we were so drunk we don't even remember what happened," like that's going to go over well!"

"We can say we found it running along the road somewhere," Rosalie pointed out. "We don't have to confess to the crime."

Ernest gulped down the rest of his coffee and slammed his cup to the table. "Well, if we're going to do this, then let's do it!" he exclaimed. He stood up and started walking back to their room. Rosalie quickly crammed some more food in her mouth and hurried after him, sneaking a roll from a breadbasket as she passed.

Halfway down the hallway Ernest stopped suddenly, and Rosalie nearly ran in to him. He groaned and leaned over, running his hands through his hair.

"What is it? Are you alright? Do you need to throw up again?" Rosalie asked. "There's a garbage can right up ahead!"

Ernest shook his head. "It's not that. I just remembered what the tux was all about," he said. He straightened up and put his hands on her shoulders. "Don't freak out ok, but Rosie, I think we got married."

Rosalie burst out laughing at the idea. Her and Ernest! Married! It was so ridiculous she just couldn't… "Holy shit, I think you're right," she realized, the smile disappearing from her face. "What do we do? Should we get a divorce?"

"I can't be two hundred and divorced!" Ernest wailed. "I'll be ruined."

"No, wait, we can get the marriage annulled," Rosalie mused, "As long as the marriage was not consummated, which I'm pretty certain it was not."

"Oh hell no," Ernest rejoined, "Being two hundred and impotent is not a whole lot better than being divorced."

Rosalie sighed, annoyed with Ernest's negativity. "Well, first things first, we'd best make sure Elvis doesn't spread this around. And we have a peccary to return to the zoo!"

"I really hope that's all the consequences we have to deal with today," Ernest said as they hurried back to their room.

"And for the rest of our lives," Rosalie muttered, "If you won't let me divorce you."

Elvis was still sleeping when they got back to their room. Rosalie knelt down next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. "Elvis honey," she said, gently shaking him awake. "It's time to wake up now…"

Elvis shook her hand off and turned over, mumbling something as he returned to sleep. Rosie stood up and shook her head. "If that's how it's going to be…" She jumped on top of him, using one of the wrestling moves she had learned from Curtis many centuries ago when they still played together. "Get up you sack of shit!" she yelled, effectively jolting Elvis awake.

"Huh? Wuzzat?" He sat up and in a minute his face was nearly as green as Ernest, and he too rushed to the bathroom. Rosalie turned to grin snidely at Ernest as they listened to Elvis puking in their bathroom.

"You two are perfect for each other," she said drily. "I think you should ask him out."

"Maybe I will," Ernest answered sharply.

Rosalie snorted. "Yeah right. You'd never work up the nerve."

Ernest's shoulders slumped. "Probably not…"

Elvis soon came out of the bathroom wiping his mouth on his new robes. Rosalie shook her head at him. Newly ordained, and already he had vomit on his robe – that was just so typical Elvis.

"So El, buddy, do you remember what happened last night?" she asked him.

He looked Rosalie up and down, and then turned and did the same to Ernest, and then looked back at Rosalie, back at Ernest… "I take it it has something to do with your guys' ridiculous outfits." He looked down at his own clothes then. "Wait, why am I wearing – oh right! I'm ordained now! And you two – ha!" He doubled over with laughter, and then straightened up again. "Please, excuse me," he said, and returned to the bathroom.

"I think he may be even worse than you," Rosalie told Ernest.

Ernest sighed and put his head in his hands and flopped down on his bed. "What is happening to my life?" he wondered out loud. "Where did I go wrong?"

Elvis came back out of the bathroom, grinning this time. "So you two tied the knot hey?" He settled down on Rosalie's bed, and for the first time noticed the peccary. "What is that…?"

"Never mind that now," Rosalie said, putting her hands on Elvis' shoulders. "What I need to know is can you annul our marriage?"

"Why? You two make such a cute couple!" Elvis protested. Even he knew how ridiculous the idea was though, and he couldn't stop laughing. "Seriously though, I doubt the wedding would even hold up in a court," he said. "Considering how drunk we all were, and that no one signed anything, and… where did those outfits come from anyway? You didn't steal them did you?"

Rosalie looked down at her wedding dress and just then worried about where it came from. "I really hope I didn't pay good money for this thing…"

"I know I didn't pay for anything," Ernest said miserably. "I don't have any money."

"It's… fine," Rosalie said hesitantly. "I mean, if I did pay money for something ridiculous like this, it's not like Curtis never did anything stupid in his college days either, so he can't really judge."

Elvis waved his hand at them. "I'll get rid of your guys' marriage no problem," he assured them. "I think the real problem here is that furry pig you've got nesting in your closet."

"He's a peccary," Ernest said. "And we have to return him to the zoo because his mate is lonely."

At the mention of his name the peccary lifted his head and snorted. Rosalie went over to him to pat his head. "Don't worry buddy, we'll get you back."

The peccary squealed at her and ran across the room to Elvis.

"Aw, he likes you," Ernest said.

Rosalie huffed. "Probably because you're the most like him," she said jealously.

"Ok, hold up a minute!" Josie interrupted. "This isn't a real story is it?"

Rosalie looked at her innocently. "A real story? Are you asking me if it's true?"

"Yeah, I mean, stealing a pig from the zoo and getting married by Elvis – you're pitching to me a concept for The Hangover 3 right?"

Rosalie laughed. "It really did happen! You know it had to be true, because it's too ridiculous to be believed."

"So where's Elvis now? Did he marry Ernest?"

Rosalie waved her hand at Josie, as if to blow away such a ridiculous notion. "No way! Ernest is way too good for him! Plus, Elvis died."

"No he didn't!" Josie protested. Then she leaned forward in earnest. "I mean, he didn't right? That thing with the sandwich on the toilet, that was a joke right?"

Rosalie laughed. "Oh yes, that was a joke – typical Elvis! No he died in '97, choked on his own vomit. Sad, really, but he died doing what he loved…"

Josie stared at Rosalie in disbelief. She simply had no words.

"Vomiting," Rosalie clarified, as if it needed to be said. "He loved vomiting."