Credits
Love. Love is what brings us together today. The love between two people creates a bond that can never be fully broken. And when two people come together to affirm that love before friends and family, it is a beautiful thing.
Lawrence Patrick McQuorrig casually strolled into the banquet hall of the beautiful resort where two such people were going to be celebrating their love. The bride was a friend of his from the NeoGAF Mafia Community, which they all simply called Gafia. Her name was… well... He just called her Swamped. The groom’s name was… not important to the story right now.
He made his way over to a small table where a young Asian woman was laying out name tags. He scanned the table, and picked up a name tag. “LaunchpadMcQ,” the name tag proudly displayed.
The young woman smiled at him, and with a voice just barely flavored with an Australian accent, said, “Launchie! It’s so nice to meet you! The others are all arriving, go ahead and have a seat!”
Launchpad wandered over to a set of large tables and picked a chair at random. Tonight was the rehearsal for the dinner that would precede the wedding reception that would come shortly after the wedding. Launchpad thought it was strange that he and the other members of the Gafia community had been asked to come to California ten full days before the wedding in order to have the rehearsal, but Swamped had waved the question away, saying that the venue was booked nearly solid. He didn’t mind too much. He needed the vacation. As he mused, someone placed a bowl of steaming soup in front of him. People were starting to make their way to the table, and without thinking, Launchpad took a spoon and sipped at the soup in front of him.
It was a great surprise to everyone when, several minutes later, LaunchpadMcQ crashed face first into his soup bowl.
A young man in a three piece suit and a beanie ran to Launch and pulled him back into his chair. After examining him for a moment, the young man swept the beanie from his head and declared, “He’s dead.”
Everyone gasped.
LaunchpadMcQ has died.
Launchpad's name tag, still stuck to it's paper backing, floated gently to the ground, where it would later be picked up by someone else.
“Hold it!” A voice exclaimed.
The crowd parted to reveal Swamped, the blushing bride herself, resplendent in her wedding dress. She was also shaking with rage.
“Okay,” she said, “I know there are more people here than I had on the invite list. I don’t know who the party crashers are, and I don’t know why you killed Launchpad, but I know this is the group that can figure it out.”
People began to nod with her as she spoke.
Swamped shook her head, “I don’t have time for this, though. I have a dissertation to turn in, and I’m getting married, and now there’s a murder…” She turned to a tall, tuxedo-clad man who was picking an hors d'oeuvre from a plate. “Retro, can you handle this?”
Retro nodded. “Of course.”
“Thank you,” she smiled, and swept out of the room.
Retro turned and gave the rest of the wedding guests a friendly smile as he motioned to two large, round tables.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he said, “Please have a seat. I think you all know how this works by now...”
