Tiny Tales

Rupert had never been more confident about anything in his life. He bent down and opened the box of white doves, certain he was about to get revenge on Valerie, the love of his life who had broken his heart, and was about to pledge her eternal commitment to the wrong guy.

Emboldened by the premature path to freedom, the birds hurried out, all taking to the skies, except Chester. Previously selected for a prestigious carrier pigeon school for his tremendous speed, but since relegated to wedding duty for his poor navigational skills, he bumbled through a small gap between the chapel doors and barreled toward the unsuspecting bride halfway through her vows.

With a scream, Valerie tumbled back, was caught by the priest, and sent the hand-picked bouquet spinning through the air as Chester narrowly escaped through an open window.

Best man Bradley, forever salty over having been overlooked in the last seventeen NFL drafts, finally saw his chance at stardom. He broke into a sprint, smoothly sidestepped one flower girl, two little old ladies, and one sleeping uncle before making a record-worthy catch as he burst straight through the church doors. Instead of an end zone, he encountered Rupert, who was both flabbergasted and, against his better judgment, impressed, and promptly buried him under 247 pounds of pure muscle.

And so, that was the weekend Rupert lost one bride, suffered two broken ribs, and gained one husband.

Originally submitted to the NYC Midnight 2025 250-word microfiction challenge.
Provided prompt: [Genre: Comedy | Action: sabotaging | Word: weekend]