After being left at the altar,
a widowed mortician,
founds a nudist colony.
“What do you mean, Jason?”
“It just doesn’t feel right, Maude, I don’t know…”
What?! Jason… Pleeease don’t do this, not now…”
“I’m sorry… I-I-I just don’t love you like I use to, I thought I did. But I don’t see how this is going to work… It just doesn’t feel right, Maude. I’m sorry, I really am.”
The priest started to look and feel like that guy who just hangs around a band. He seems friendly enough to fit in, but nobody knows who he is or what he does. The potential wedding guests freshly-turned gawking civilians started distributing their own version of what was about to happen.
“Jason? It doesn’t feel right? Really?” Maude now had her own instant soup of frantic and tender betrayal. “And-and-and…” Maude reached for a deflating future and forgot how…
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