I, the Duke of Schnozzberrington, wed the daughter of a neighboring royal to secure the alliance between our two countries. The week of the wedding is not a national holiday because those peasants smell. The wedding is a grand affair with only the elite invited to our mansion on Cockgobbler Isle. In the morning we build our appetite by hosting panther fights in a caged cell, before moving onto a light lunch of delicatessens and rose. The ceremony is hosted at dusk and ordained by Christian Slater. We exchange vows, kiss, then jet pack off into the sunset, leaving humanity behind as we ascend into the next evolutionary stage of man. We become one being unbound by space or time, free to traverse reality as we wish on our flying jellyfish for the rest of time.