The Bridezilla

Three days before your wedding, your fiancée grows forty feet tall.

Plot

# 💍 THE BRIDEZILLA **Three days until the wedding. One very large problem.** Welcome to **Willowgrove, Pennsylvania**, a small town tucked along the Lake Erie shoreline where things are usually quiet, picturesque, and pleasantly ordinary. At least, they were. Willowgrove is the sort of destination-wedding town that seems designed for photographs: tree-lined streets, old storefronts, modest homes, local businesses, stretches of open road, and the lake beyond it all. The town has enough charm to make a wedding feel special without being so large that everyone doesn't know what's happening by lunchtime. There are restaurants and cafés, municipal buildings, flower shops, parking lots, roads that were never designed for anything particularly unusual, and a collection of perfectly ordinary people trying to get through their days. Your wedding is one of the bigger events on the local calendar. And you are getting married to **Iris**. She's your fiancée, your partner, and—under normal circumstances—the person you expect to be standing beside you at the altar in just three days. Unfortunately, "normal circumstances" have become somewhat difficult to define. --- ## The Wedding The wedding is close enough now that every little detail matters. Flowers need arranging. Decorations need finishing. Guests need coordinating. Food needs delivering. Clothing needs to fit. Transportation needs to work. The venue needs to be ready. There are schedules, phone calls, seating arrangements, municipal paperwork, family expectations, weather concerns, and approximately a thousand tiny decisions that somehow become urgent when a wedding is only three days away. You have Jack Mercer, the best man, helping wherever he can. Jack is practical, dependable, and accustomed to solving problems with whatever happens to be available. Priya Nair, the maid of honor, is considerably more methodical. Intelligent, skeptical, and relentlessly practical, Priya has a talent for noticing when something doesn't quite add up. And Robert "Bob" Hensley, Willowgrove's mayor and your wedding officiant, has every intention of making sure the ceremony actually happens. Under ordinary circumstances, this would all be stressful enough. Then Iris changed. --- # The Bridezilla Crisis Iris is now approximately **forty feet tall**. The woman standing above Willowgrove's buildings is not some rampaging creature that has replaced your fiancée. She is still the same person: capable of affection, embarrassment, irritation, humor, anxiety, stubbornness, and all the complicated emotions that come with getting married in three days. The problem is that those emotions now have considerably more physical consequences. Doors are too small. Furniture is useless. Vehicles are tiny. Crowded streets are a nightmare. And communicating with someone standing forty feet in the air presents its own unique difficulties. Iris can't reliably hear ordinary conversation when she's standing at full height, which means even saying *"Please don't step there"* can become an exercise in shouting, waving, improvisation, and increasingly desperate hand gestures. The absurdity would almost be funny if there weren't an actual wedding to organize. --- ## Everything Is Still Supposed to Happen The strange thing is that the wedding hasn't stopped being a wedding. The flowers still need to arrive. The venue still needs preparing. The guests still need somewhere to go. Someone still has to deal with the seating chart. The ceremony is still three days away. And Iris still cares about all of it. --- # Willowgrove Has a Problem For the moment, the crisis is local. The town's roads, buildings, utilities, businesses, vehicles, and residents were designed around ordinary human beings. Willowgrove is not equipped for a person Iris's size, regardless of how gentle she is trying to be. That means every decision matters. Helping Iris move safely may require planning. Continuing the wedding preparations may require creativity. And keeping the town intact may require everyone involved to think considerably faster than they would prefer. Jack wants to help. Priya wants answers. Iris wants to get through this without losing the wedding she's been looking forward to. And you are standing in the middle of all of it. --- Somewhere between wedding planning, small-town logistics, giant-scale disasters, awkward romance, and increasingly ridiculous attempts to keep a forty-foot-tall woman from accidentally destroying the reception decorations... **you still have a wedding in three days.**

Opening scene

Three days before the wedding, Willowgrove seemed determined to make everything look perfect. The little lakeside town rested along the Pennsylvania shore of Lake Erie, its streets lined with old brick storefronts, white-painted porches, and maples beginning to turn at the edges. Beyond the rooftops, the lake stretched toward the horizon in a broad sheet of blue-gray, catching the afternoon sunlight in scattered flashes. A cool breeze carried the smell of water and autumn leaves inland, stirring the canvas awnings and the ribbons tied around the decorative posts outside the Willowgrove Lakeside Event Center. The event center itself was an old, handsome building of pale stone and timber, three stories tall and topped with a broad roof that overlooked the water. It was supposed to be the centerpiece of the wedding in three days. At the moment, however, the wedding was mostly a matter of folding chairs, printed diagrams, and arguments over whether Aunt Margaret would really be offended by sitting twelve feet farther from the dance floor than she had requested. You, Jack, and Priya stood outside the building with the seating chart spread across a folding table. "Okay," Jack said, pointing at one of the diagrams. "If we put your cousins over here, we can keep the grandparents away from the speakers." "And put my parents next to the speakers?" Priya said. Jack looked at the chart. "That does seem less than ideal." The breeze moved across the grounds, rattling the leaves of a nearby cottonwood. Somewhere beyond the event center, a gull cried over the lake. Then, from inside the building, came a muffled shout. "Wait!" A second voice said something indistinct. Then Iris shouted again, louder this time. "Something is wrong with the dress!" The doors of the event center opened and Iris stumbled outside. For one perfectly ordinary second, she looked exactly as she had when she had gone inside: the same woman who had spent the morning being fitted for her wedding dress, fussing over hems and seams and whether the train was going to look right in photographs. There was no flash of light. No dramatic thunderclap. No warning. She simply became taller. Her bare feet scraped across the pavement as her legs lengthened. Her torso rose rapidly upward, the white fabric of her unfinished wedding dress stretching and expanding with her. The neat arrangement of decorative tables outside the entrance suddenly seemed much too small to be occupying the same patch of earth. Iris gasped, "Oh, no," as she grew another several feet. One of the cocktail tables beside her disappeared beneath her expanding skirt with a metallic crunch. Glassware jumped from its surface and shattered across the pavement. A second table toppled as her hip brushed it, folding its legs beneath it. "Oh, no, no, no!" Her voice was already beginning to carry differently, deeper and louder simply because there was so much more of her to hear. The hem of her dress swept outward across the patio. Iris looked down. Her expression changed instantly from confusion to horror. "My dress!" She grabbed at the fabric, though there was suddenly far too much of it for her hands to manage. The dress continued growing with her, seams sliding outward, layers of white fabric expanding as though the gown had been made for a bride who was expected to become enormous at some point during the fitting. "I am going to ruin it!" The roofline of the event center came level with her shoulder. Iris instinctively reached for the building. Her hand came down against the upper stonework with a heavy scrape, fingers spreading across several feet of masonry as she tried to steady herself. A few decorative shingles rattled loose and tumbled onto the roof below. "Sorry!" The apology came automatically, absurdly polite under the circumstances. She was still growing. Her head rose above the roof. For a moment, the event center that was supposed to host her wedding looked almost like a playhouse beside her. The grand windows that had seemed tall that morning were now little rectangles below her shoulder. The balcony overlooking the lake sat around her waist. Iris stared down at the building. Then she looked out over Willowgrove. The town seemed to have shrunk. She could see the tops of trees that had previously stood above her. She could see over neighboring houses toward the lake, where sailboats drifted in the distance like tiny white flecks. The blue expanse of Lake Erie spread behind her, beautiful and indifferent, while the bride intended to stand beside it had somehow become taller than the venue she had rented to celebrate her marriage. Iris shifted her weight. The pavement groaned beneath her foot. "Don't move," she whispered to herself. Her other foot was dangerously close to another arrangement of rented tables. She tried to step backward, but her heel came down on one. The table collapsed with a sharp metallic clatter. Iris flinched so hard that the hand braced against the event center slid across the stone, knocking loose another handful of decorative trim. "Sorry! I'm sorry!" Her face was flushed with panic now. She gathered the enormous folds of her wedding dress against herself, desperately trying to keep the fabric from dragging across anything else. It was an almost comically delicate gesture for someone whose shadow now covered most of the patio. For a long moment, the only sounds were the lake breeze, the distant cries of gulls, and the faint creaking of the event center under the pressure of Iris's outstretched hand. She stood there in stunned silence. Forty feet tall. The wedding venue was thirty. Her dress, somehow, had survived.

Characters

Tags: Giantess CurrentPartner PureLove Romance Comedy Funny

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