Wedding toasts take two

Rufus:

Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of Orange;
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barded steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.

But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,
To set the dragon lady and the groom
In deadly hate the one against the other:
And if Amstelboy be as true and just
As I am subtle, false and treacherous,
This day should Lian closely be mew'd up,
About a prophecy, which says that 'L'
Of Singapore the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here Lian comes.

And now let's hear from the third member of this partnership, the Acura DMX in the garage:

Acura DMX:
Whooo!
Y'all gon' make me lose my mind, up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' make me lose control, up in here, up in here
Y'all goin' buy some premium gas, up in here, up in here
Y'all can't find no parking spot, up in here, up in here
Y'all won't let Lian drive, up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' drive me up to Steamworks, up in here, up in here
Y'all goin' there on the down low, up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' drive a yellow float, up in here, up in here
Y'all gon' drive into a bridge, up in here, up--

Rufus: Okay, thank you... that certainly got annoying quickly. Captain, if there's anything you'd like to add, I can pass the mike down to you.

Captain: Make it so. Marriage... the final frontier. These are the nuptials of Amstelboy and the Dragon Lady... their lifelong mission, to seek out new life for their children, and new happiness for themselves. To boldly go where Amstelboy has never gone before, into a committed relationship, hands together with their rings twinkling together like four lights in a tranquil nighttime sky full of possibilities. Live long and prosper, and Q'aplah!

Rufus: Dude, even for you that was a new low in dorkiness. And shouldn't it be two lights in the sky for the two rings?

Captain: THERE ARE FOUR LIGHTS!* And why don't you shut up, Mr. "I'm all cool because I can cut and paste Shakespeare". By the way, you can call me a dork all you want, but last time I checked, I'm the one who brought a date, you loser.

Rufus: I resemble that remark. Bridesmaids, anything to add? Do you understand the words coming out of my mouth?

Random Asian Bridesmaid: Confucius say happy marriage like CDO: take hard work to put together, but value inestimable by market. (aside to Rufus: There, I said in that stupid accent, will you bother someone else now?)

Rufus: Okay, all kidding aside, I think the person we've all been waiting to hear from is the best man, and here he is.

H.P.: Als Lian op een woestijneiland, werd opgesloten en zij moest tussen Paul en een emmer van hamburgers kiezen, en ik bedoel werkelijk goede hamburgers, met verse sla, en tomaten--

Rufus: What the hell? This isn't the U.N. pal, even fortune cookie over here did her toast in Engrish-- oww! Jesus, somebody take that fork away and get this girl some blunt chop sticks, that hurt. Okay, that pistol Amstelboy's mom just took out of her purse tells me it's time to wrap things up, let me just conclude by reminding the bridesmaids that even if you're unlucky at wedding bingo, you can always come up to the real party in my hotel room, where I have enough booze to make everybody my lucky lady--

(At this point I imagine I will be interrupted by a loud bang and a smattering of applause.)

*-see ST:TNG episode #137, "Chain of Command pt 2", stardate 46360.8, or alternately, don't.