“Taa da!” She swiftly changes her tune once you show her the rings.
“Where did you find them?” Delilah’s eyes sparkle as she crushes you in a grateful embrace. You hand her the rings, convinced you’ve made the right choice. You’d stomach a dozen schmaltzy weddings and endure any Elvis tune just to share this look on her face.
“Let’s just say it all came out in the wash,” you reply with a grin.
She beams appreciatively at you. “How about some Yum Cha as a thank you? My treat.” She knows it’s your favourite. D – Day is turning out okay after all.
She orders enough prawn dumplings and custard tarts to sink a Chinese junk, which you decide to take back to share with the rest of wedding party.
On the way through The Docks Precinct, you catch a whiff of incense and baulk at the sight of Kin Kee Lin Kee floating towards you. She’s dressed as a waiter, no longer in robes, and stands half obscured by smoke clutching a bamboo steamer in front of her chest with both hands. She extends the steamer to you with an inscrutable sneer.
“Ah, how generous,” exclaims Delilah, slowing.
“No, we don’t need anymore,” you mutter, anxious to escape Kin Kee’s unsettling presence.
You haul Delilah and your tasty assortment of dim sum back to the resort and share it with grateful cousins, uncles, Elvis fans, and Fergus but just two hours before the ceremony, everyone, including you succumbs to bowel contortions so horrific, they make Barry’s singing appear more desirable than the holy grail – food poisoning!
A fleet of ambulances arrive but it’s too late, no one survives this catastrophic custard tart calamity. You die in agony with the Kin Kee’s warning buzzing through your brain.