Speech by K2HOD

Speech Type: Best man
Speech Creator: K2HOD
Speech Date: DEC 2002
Wedding Speech

Well good afternoon folks and welcome to the Saddam Hussein canvas

canopy of culinary craftsmanship. Not that terrorism worries me much.

I've been married 35 years, there's nothing Al Quaeda can do to me that

wouldn't seem like a trip to Disneyworld compared with my real life. Bring

it on, I say.

Still, it's always been a dream of mine to eat a meal in a big tent in

December in the middle of nowhere and I want to thank Ernie for allowing

me the experience. All we need is Krusty the Clown to come in here and do

25 laps on the back of a zebra and my joy will be complete.

Not that my happiness matters today. That's not the best man's role.

Actually, I'm not quite certain what the best man's role really is. I

thought it was simply to stand by the groom's side and hand over the

rings when required. But that's too little activity for Ernie's wedding. As

you've probably seen, I've had to hump furniture, choreograph the

supporting cast of chanting thousands, bob around like a chipmunk on

speed making sure that various items of what David Dickinson would call

weddingalia were available on demand, not to mention mincing about with a

poncey ring cushion that wouldn't be out of place as an ornament in Elton

John's bog. How can I pretend to be a hard man after today? I can never

go back to Glasgow after this gig.

Still, I suppose I should be pleased that he didn't insist on me wearing

velvet pantaloons and a little beret with a feather. But then that would

have cost an extra shilling or two and that's how I got into this in the

first place; I work cheap.

Not that there was much competition for the job. As I recall, the short

list had me and Michael Barrymore on it and the long list was only us two,

plus Jeffrey Archer. Since His Lordship is otherwise detained washing

his new husband's socks and Barrymore has to be extra careful about

being seen out amongst criminal elements, here I am. Wouldn't my old Dad

have been proud. Not so much big time as big top.

Still, whatever the stresses, here I am standing up for my old mate Ernie.

Look how youthful, vigorous and virile he is. The very image of a thrusting

Bridegroom. It's all a sham. You can't imagine the quantity of artificial

stimulant it takes to get him looking this good. And he won't like me

disclosing this to you, but his secret is that he takes vast quantities of a

white powder that few of us would know how to find. Yes folks, it can be

revealed. Ernie snorts neat Complan; but hey, it's working for him, well

that and Sanatogen mainlined straight into his veins.

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Some say that these recreational substances should be avoided, but I've

seen the benefits to my friend. They helped him become a keen rugby

player at school, but he was dropped because his tackle wasn't strong

enough. Which it still isn't, as Joanne will no doubt confirm.

They helped him develop his illustrious career as town crier to our

previous employer; and when that abruptly ended, they helped him in the

dole queue, where he made a few extra bob playing the spoons to the

rest of us. At least I think he was playing the spoons, he could just have

been talking his usual cobblers, 90 to the dozen; after all the sound's just

the same.

And they've always helped him with women. For example Ernie was the

only guy who pulled at the stag night, which he did with spectacular

success, landing a top celebrity. The rest of us inadequates could only

look on in envy as he helped Thora Hird into her invalid car and they both

went off into the night for session with the white powder. She gets it

free on prescription, you see, whereas Ernie still has to wait months and

months for such senior citizen benefits.

4

Still, if anyone can save him from his addictive habits, it'll be Joanne.

She's already moving him steadily onto less potent drugs. For example,

he's just started a course of Eyeagra. That's the eyedrop derivative from

the famous sex drug. Does nothing for your sex life at all, but you look

really hard. Baby steps folks, baby steps. This is Ernie we're discussing.

Which brings us to the vexing question of why Joanne is undertaking this

challenge in the first pace. As is evident today, she's a lovely, intelligent,

personable, successful, connected woman, so it's easy to see what Mr.

Finch gets out of this. Ernie talks drivel and snores. That's it. What could

have induced her to take this decision? Perhaps she was looking for a

last big charitable adventure, for which she should be applauded. Perhaps

she's just a bit deaf with no sense of smell. But Jo, when you wake up

tomorrow and realise that you now own 50% of everything you own, just

don't come crying to me. My work is almost done here.

And it is nearly over, as you'll be relieved to hear. But before I ask you to

toast the pair of inmates we've come here to view today, I have to make a

special reference to two of Ernie's extended family, who are here at

Chipperfields today. First there's Lilian, Ernie's aunt, who will forgive me,

I hope, for disclosing that she's just three years off her century.

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I understand that she attributes her longevity to enjoying two bottles of

Tesco Scotch each week. Lilian, long may your glass clink, but please

answer me one question. I've only known Ernest for 25 years. Can you tell

me, was there ever a time when he had hair?

The second mention is for baby George, just six months old, but astute

enough to realise that, with this wedding, he gets a free meal AND a trip

to the circus, plus he can sleep through the speeches, What a life. For

him I have advice. Keep on the breast just as long as you possibly can,

because, once you're grown up, that's it forever; and from 6 months to

nearly 100 is a very long time indeed. Perhaps that's the answer to Ernie's

hair loss, come to think about it.

So Ladies, Gentlemen, boys and girls, clowns and trapeze artists, I ask

you to be upstanding and join me in the traditional toast to the happy

couple. In Scotland we would say ‘Lang may your lum reek’, but since

nearly every part of Ernie already does, the toast is: