Luke Warm Revenge;

They arrived in Paris without further incident, and began to collect odds and ends together for a Red Ribbon Bow made of Bureaucratic tape. Melbourne had started making an ostentatious study of all things yellow, and they duly discussed Yellow Ribbons. Sam even attempted a rendition of the song, but Andrea reviewed him dully, and they agreed to specify Red tape for the marriage.

Outside a seven-eleven they observed a small gang, chain smoking. "Those guys smoke like chimneys," Melbourne noted, with colonial choice of metaphor. "One of them's a girl," Sam added point blank. "Womyn," Andrea corrected him coldly. Unperturbed, Sam retaliated without even taking a new breath, "... with a hymen." Melbourne interrupted further possible hostilities with the 411, "There was actually no Tobacco in Europe before Columbus discovered America." Sam was truly intrigued. "America, as in Amerigo Vespucci, the Italian?" he asked. "I've always wondered how many Pizza's you would need to make a tower." Before he could stop himself, Melbourne had already had a terse discussion on the engineering qualities of Pizza for architecture, disambiguated them from infrastructure and reviewed the purpose and need for 911. The segue of his return to his topic of interest was worthy of documentation. "The Italians got tomatoes out of the deal, as well as corn for flour, but my point before was that the New World gave us Tobacco as well." Sam was still not in FULL possession of the knowledge, but followed closely with the query, "So they smoke a lot in Little Italy?" Andrea's interest had been whetted too, and Melbourne continued, a little doggedly. "Cigarettes, Pipes and Cigars too," he persisted. Andrea had some fire left in her belly, and attempted verbal theft of his thunder. "That lead to a lot of Cancer?" she asked. "Close but no cigar," thought Melbourne. "Exactly!" he said aloud. "The Caucasian came to... Oklahoma, and took all the Indian's land and made treaties with the Red Man. He didn't honor the treaties, and didn't treat the Red man with honor, and all the Red Man has ever had in compensation is..." he paused until they leaned toward him, telegraphing their interest. "…Red Man's Revenge!" "I can see that wasn't very White," Sam allowed meditatively. Andrea shot him a black look, as he ran his hand through raven hair. Melbourne contemplated the Judge's ebony desk... she was a VERY nubile Nubian. "I'd like to get a marriage license please," he finished.

The Judge regarded him evenly, and said "I don't see why not. The scales of justice cannot be tipped by sight." Sam moved quickly to dispel any misunderstandings. "The license is for HIM," he stated clearly. "HE'S going to marry HER, it's NOT going to be him marrying US. SHE'S NOT marrying ME." "I WILL, I WANT him to," Andrea added, underlining her consent. "I AM Australian," Melbourne admitted apologetically, adding "The US and Australia have aborigines in common."

This particular Judge was a young and liberal one, and simply contemplated with interest which word in the pledge of allegiance was most pertinent to the present discussion. Being a liberal, she soon concluded that "Liberty" was it, and signed the paperwork. The happy trio took their leave somewhat more politely than they had arrived, and the departed bound for a traditional Wedding Chapel. Since he was in a better position to be emotionally detached, Sam denoted the severance of the relevant tape for the ribbon, but they all soon agreed that this was part and parcel of the process, and the Minister who performed the ceremony didn't have to chase them far before they had signed the forgotten form. Andrea shook out auburn tresses, and announced to all and sundry that she had a NEW hard and fast rule. Never drink ANYTHING harder than a Fosters.

To Sam's amazement everyone AT the wedding had marriage on the brain, and a sweet young thing practically adopted him. He had been a late bloomer and she had developed a taste for older men, so they decided to wait at least until May. Melbourne pointed out that a June bride was more traditional, and Andrea advocated for December, but Ursula Minor was adamant... "He MAY by May, I won't make him wait longer."

They parted company by unhitching the pickup from the hummer, and Mr. and Mrs. Melbourne Sheila Sydney rode of into the sunset with cries of "Westward Ho!" while Ursula urged Sam to take her shopping for new threads in the pickup; she had a yen to celebrate her birthday sartorially. She didn't seem to mind that his replies were made out of whole cloth. Her glass had been half full and his had been half empty, but together they were overflowing with joy. They spent the night at the local Hilton, and Sam sent himself a self-addressed-stamped-envelope with the legend "We'll always have Paris." No reason a person shouldn't be sentimental now and then.