At a Texas wedding

you never need to ask which is the bride. The team that everyone was cheering for is already at the finish line, drinking wine and talking about their delightful violin playing sons-in-law. You smile politely but they didn't even see you and then bite ravenously, let the juices drip down their necks, you can't tell if from hunger or lack of manners. You have one awkward conversation after another and finally decide to ride the ferris wheel. But when it gets to the top, you get so dizzy you need to lie down, and staring up at the ceiling you only get the sensation of falling asleep at 75 miles per hour. Yes yes, it's only a game, it's just a ... "But let's make it more interesting," the unctuous fellow to your right says, and tears out one of his front teeth, dropping it on the filthy plate that still has pools of buffalo meat drippings. He is clearly waiting for you to do the same, a bloody grin crackling between his lips. You oblige him, but it breaks and only half your tooth slips from your trembling fingers onto the plate with a dull tinkle. It's clearly not enough. The metallic taste already fills your throat. There's just no way to win with these people.