I have the high privilege and the distinct honor of presenting to you, the maid of honor of Kevin and Jessica’s wedding.

Groom. Bride. Members of the wedding party. Distinguished guests. My fellow attendees. Folks watching at home on C-SPANX and C-SPANX 2:

Kevin is clearly hot for Jessica. Jessica obviously wants to bang Kevin.

I am pleased to report that the state of the union is strong.

One year ago, I took office as Jessica’s duly selected maid of honor. On the off chance that something goes wrong tonight, one bridesmaid is currently secured at an undisclosed location and is prepared to assume maid of honor responsibilities at any time.

When I uttered the oath of office—solemnly swearing to preserve, protect, and defend the bridal party on all weekend getaways, foreign and domestic, so help me God—I inherited an operation without a strategy and a budget in shambles. In my year at the helm, I have turned this ship around and have guided my administration through a period of unprecedented success.

We threw a nautical bachelorette party so raunchy that Jessica will never look at a body of water the same way again. We hosted a bridal shower so stunning that the éclair photos alone netted 453 likes on Instagram. We crafted wedding hashtags so memorable that these nuptials are trending in the greater Kansas City area as we speak. #matchmadeinkevin #shesaidjess

We pushed for champagne finance reform. We stood up to the powerful hotel lobby, opting to hold the reception in the hotel courtyard instead. We reduced the shrimp cocktail deficit and increased the stuffed pepper surplus. We eliminated essential oils from our welcome bags in favor of renewable 5-Hour Energy. We pledged to make Solar Power at least 40% of our Spotify playlists by 2035. We built broad consensus around the bridesmaids’ dress selection through good-faith negotiation.

And in this two-wedding-party system, we reached across the aisle to collaborate with the groomsmen on “Just Married” car décor.

The days have been long, and the group texts have been too, but the work has been deeply rewarding. The wedding guests sent us to Vegas to get results, and we have delivered for them. Thank you for your applause; please take your seats.

Of course, we as bridesmaids are never content to rest on our laurels. After all, we are the movers and shakers who planned the honeymoon landing. As we widen the scope of our objectives, I urge you to join us in making our unrealized goals a reality.

First, we must lower the cost of the wedding registry for the everyday guest. Under my plan, families making less than $200,000 per year would never be asked to buy the $599.99 stainless steel toaster. Send the legislation to my desk; I am ready and waiting to sign it.

Next, we must support the ambitions of our young people. That is why I am proud to announce a bold new initiative to send every attendee home with a usable new profile picture. Not a picture of you and two strangers making small talk by the hors d'oeuvres. A solo picture with some greenery in the background. We are doing everything in our power to inspire at least one of your old high school classmates to slide into your DMs.

In the final stretch of my term, my last order of business is seducing a groomsman. Ultimately, I measure my legacy as maid of honor not by the splendor of the floral arrangements, nor by tastiness of the wedding cake, but by the laughs this bridal party has shared and by the girth of the aforementioned groomsman.

One of the true joys of my role has been getting to know the wonderful people who make up this great wedding of ours. It is thus my honor to pay tribute to the extraordinary special guests in attendance tonight.

At table two we have Kevin’s former roommate Anna, a hardworking doctor from Denver, who did not submit her RSVP but showed up anyway. Let’s give Anna a hearty round of applause.

Over at table four is Jessica’s family friend Matthew, an innovative architect from Seattle, whose obvious rapport with the bride is going to spell trouble for this marriage in two to five years. Kevin will become increasingly distant—Matthew will swoop in with an after-work drinks invitation—it’s a tale as old as time. Let’s give it up for Matthew.

And say hello to Kevin’s 92-year-old great-aunt Susan, a retired teacher from Minneapolis, at table five. Her late husband’s last will and testament is bankrolling the dinner. Be sure to let her know whether you got the chicken or the fish so that she can write the check accordingly. Let’s hear it for Susan.

As I gaze out at the happy newlyweds, I conclude my address with unbridled optimism for the future. Because I just filled my purse with dozens of the gourmet donuts. Because one of the groomsmen is winking at me. Because this is Kevin and Jessica’s wedding—and there is no bouquet we cannot catch when we lunge for it together.

Thank you, God bless you, and God bless Kevin and Jessica. I now turn the microphone over to Kevin’s best man for his response to my address.