I have thrice been ‘best man’ at a wedding. I took my duties seriously. Much rehearsal took place. At first it would look quite good:
Then someone would invariably ply me with grog . .
. . and then things would go pear-shaped. Like in this case when the canoe club heavies attacked me:
Why don’t they do this to the actual victim? I’m not the groom!
it must be your sexy legs and opportunity to flower you