I remember the preacher saying, "I now pronounce you man and wife-," and I remember the sweet smile on Lorraine Bowman's face and the dazed smirk on Johnny Larkin's, and the clank of sabers as we walked up the aisle through an arch of gleaming steel. I remember asking to kiss the bride. Then I remember something about a banquet, with somebody passing out drinks, and I remember demanding to kiss the bride again. Then there was another bottle or three, and it must have been powerful juice because I remember Johnny Larkin frowning when I insisted on kissing the bride. Then I felt sorry for myself and started to cry, and Captain Bowman roared something about, "Take that boiled son-of-a-spacehawk home and pour him into bed," and I looked around, wondering who was tanked, and by golly, they all were but me! Which I tried to explain, standing on a table so I could get their attention, but somebody pulled the table out from under me. And that's all I remember until I woke up the next morning with my mouth tasting like the inside of a birdcage, and Lt. Sam Evans, Second Mate of the Pegasus, was standing at my bedside grinning at me. Sunbeams were bouncing up and down on my counterpane like elephants. I moaned and said, "Get 'em out of here, Sam!"