Though Hildegard’s Vows Weren’t in English
As a former boarding school kid- desk lamp selected by the head of the architectural department
- reduce human-camel conflicts
- “You don’t trust him?”
- all traces of its natural color were obliterated by ink stains
Tune in next time part 625 Click Here for Earlier Installments
Though Hildegard’s vows weren’t in English, I understood them easily. As a former boarding school kid, I was fluent in several languages long-considered dead. In my youth I spent many a night hunched over my linguistics manuals, reading by the light of a desk lamp selected by the head of the architectural department to reduce human-camel conflicts in our desert oasis compound. If the polo team’s camels didn’t get enough sleep they were very cranky, and no one likes a cranky camel.
When it was my turn to speak, I leaned in to whisper in Hildegard’s ear. “The officiant knows this is a proxy wedding, yes?”
“You don’t trust him?” Her greasepaint mustache quirked.
“I don’t want to accidentally become a bigamist.” My greasepaint eyebrows, a good inch above my real eyebrows, smeared as my forehead furrowed.
“His tongue!” The officiant cried, pointing at my mouth. “All traces of its natural color were obliterated by ink stains! Golden ink stains!”
I wondered what about my tongue tattoo so upset the man. *He* didn’t have to endure the pain of having it applied.
“When He of the Golden Tongue speaks in a Bumpengryndian ceremony it is immediately binding!”
“Now just wait a minute,” I said.
“The Golden Tongue has spoken! You are wed!”
“Hey,” complained Hildegard. “What about Chartreuse Pamplemousse?”
“Chartreuse Pamplemousse is wedded to the both of you. He of the Golden Tongue hath decreed it.”
I wanted to protest, but was afraid of who else I might end up married to if I opened my mouth.
bonus points for using them in order