Angie and Bob...

Prince Andrew is sitting in the back of his Bentley outside of a shitty hotel on the outskirts of the capitol city of Bendovia.

At least I didn't have to fly to get here... he thinks.

He taps on the security glass and yells at the driver, "Are they late?"

"It would seem so, Your Highness." the driver replies.

"Well. Is there somebody we could call?" Andrew asks.

"Nobody has told me anything, Your Highness. I'm just supposed to drive the car." the driver says. "I would step out to ask the security detail, but they told me I'm not allowed to leave the car either. I'm very sorry Your Highness."

"Crap," Andrew says, "It's not your fault."

"At your service, Your Highness."

A line of cars proceeded by a stretch limousine begins to arrive. Every one honking their horns. People are hanging out of windows and sunroofs yelling and screaming at the top of their lungs.

News vans arrive at the same time and paparazzi suddenly seem to be everywhere.

"Well, it seems that word has gotten out about what's going to happen here." the prince says.

The head of the security detail opens the door and leans in. "We think it would be best if you meet the happy couple at the hotel door, Your Highness."

"Yes, I suppose... whatever is going to play best on TMZ..."