- Christina Fotinelli
Four-times a bridesmaid, never a bride, Sonja Graham lobbied hard for the Maid of Honor role at her baby sister's wedding but Aimee passed her over for her sorority sister, Trinity Brooks. Enraged and determined to break the spinster spell, Sonja sabotages Trinity's plans for the bachelorette. Her change of heart - when it comes - is too late.
I surmise from the blocked calls and angry thrust of your middle finger, as the police van carted you away, that you are not speaking to me right now. I understand your anger but aren't you overreacting? You'll be out by Sunday with swarms of stories to tell your grandchildren. Ok, maybe not this Sunday or next Sunday, but I have complete faith in the man at the Foreign Office. He promised to have you out by a Sunday. The world is in dire straits, we can't be bossy.
If all else fails, Mom is making "Libertad a Aimee" signs on the kitchen island and planning her outfit for the televised appeal. Dad is hauling Uncle Pete out of his retirement community to come to your defence. No doubt it will be slightly awkward as you cut Uncle Pete from the wedding guest list and he took it pretty hard.
Don't fret though, Officer Harold's body odour and lack of field experience aside, I'm 73.4% certain he will rise to the occasion and secure your release.
You really brought this on yourself. How could you choose that insipid, pinche Trinity over your own flesh and blood? I mean, I am sorry. I apologise. Forgive me. It was a knee-jerk reaction, putting those spliffs in your toiletry bag but a) how could I guess that nasty, flea-ridden police mutt was actually a sniffer dog #malapata and b) you really hurt my feelings.
Turn that Frown Upside Down
Look, I know it's not the bachelorette you dreamt of but focus on the positives. By the time you get out, you will have lost those pesky eight pounds you haven't been able to shift. I have also essentially saved you from irreversible skin damage. I know you were planning to tan and now I hear you're crocheting friendship bracelets under the shade of a sapote tree. You should thank me!
The moment I got home and saw your wedding marquee up in our garden I knew I couldn't let it go to waste. Mom and Dad would be heartbroken. I couldn't do that to them. So, I DM'd the guapo waiter I had a drunken-dalliance with and as they say, the rest is history.
It may have slipped my mind when I came for a visitation, and to be fair you refused to see me, but great news like this can't be contained for long....I'm engaged! Yes, me! Me! ME! #Hallelujah #Spinsternomore #Bridesmaidbecomesabridebitches
I mean, I was sick with worry about you and dear Piño offered a well-sculpted, bronzed shoulder for me to cry on. He was instrumental in tracing which squalid prison you'd been carted off to and comforted me with such tenderness. Sure, we have the language barrier but love will overcome.
The wedding is on Sunday.... it made sense to keep the date, since all the invitations had already gone out.
Wish you were here, sis. Aguanta vara, hermana!
Señorita Sonja, the future Señora Barrocas 👰🏼♀️💍🥂🤵🏻♂️
P.S. I've persuaded the nice man from the Foreign Office, Harold, to bribe the prison officers to let you watch the wedding online. I've made some changes to your decor. Send ❤️❤️❤️ if you like what you see! xoxo