All available officers please report to Merchendise Mart, there’s a disturbance at the bridal show.
“Oh shit.” Ray spun the wheel of the GTO and sped north. “Fraser, prepare yourself. This won’t be pretty.”
“Really, Ray, a group-”
“Mob. You’ve never seen American women planning their Special Day.”
“-of women can’t be that destructive.”
He was wrong. He had lived among the musk ox, but the savagery of the Arctic had nothing on these women battling over discount wedding gowns, though the white was somewhat familiar.
Ray was trying to breakup a dispute between two women and a lovely off-white organza dress, but if they weren’t careful it was going to rip. Fraser himself was busy separating three women and a taffeta A-Line.
“I saw it first.”
“-if you would release her hair-”
“I drove all the way from Branson!”
“-I’m sure we can figure this out-”
“I came from Duluth!” The other cried.
“-in a peaceable manner-”
“Bitch, please. I’m from Chicago.”
With that, the Chicago native slapped the woman from Duluth, and the woman from Branson felt the need to retaliate. Unfortunately, all three had released their hold on the dress, sending Fraser flying back.
He lay on his back for a moment, collecting himself before attempting to get to his feet. He got to his knees, first, and put one foot beneath him when he realized Ray was standing above him.
Fraser held out is hand, “Ray would you-”
He meant to ask for a hand up, but then one of the women began to coo. “Ohmigosh, he’s proposing!” And the rest fell silent.
Ray was grinning down at him. “Sure, Frase, why the hell not?”
Fraser stayed on the floor, not quite sure how he’d gotten in this position. He was quite sure some of the women were crying, but at least they weren’t fighting over frippery.