Over the weekend, the above photo of US Marine Corps Corporal Caleb Earwood and his fiancee Maggie sharing a moment of heartfelt prayer just before their nuptials went viral. But what were they praying for? Here is a word-for-word transcription of their prayers.


BRIDE: Dear Jesus…

GROOM: And His dad.

BRIDE: Yes, and His dad.

GROOM: God.

BRIDE: Right, God. Anyway, both you guys—we pray to you today to please let our wedding go well.

GROOM: And that we get the Waterford Crystal punch bowl and also those sick paintball guns that we put on our registry.

BRIDE: And that the wedding cake isn’t full of ants or something else gross.

GROOM: Ooh. Good catch, Maggie. Yeah, God—please, no ants in the cake.

BRIDE: What else should we ask for?

GROOM: I dunno—is it like a genie? Do you only have so many wishes, or whatever? Or like an ATM, where you can only withdraw so much each day?

BRIDE: No, I think you can just keep praying as much as you want.

GROOM: In that case, God, I would like to not at all go to the Middle East or North Africa in my capacity as a U.S. Marine.

BRIDE: Good one. Oh, I got one—I pray for eternal life.

GROOM: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let’s walk this back a little.

BRIDE: What? Why?

GROOM: I think eternal life might be some kind of unnatural thing? Like, my first thought is vampires? That kind of prayer might anger Jesus and His dad.

BRIDE: God.

GROOM: Right. God.

BRIDE: O.K., let’s put a pin in eternal life. How about some Jet Skis?

GROOM: Well, what else are we gonna shoot our paintball guns from the back of while drinking punch and doing 60 knots?

[HIGH FIVE SOUND]

BRIDE: Two Jet Skis, please, God! Man, we should probably wrap this up before everyone in the church has a shit-fit.

GROOM: Yeah, I’d like to get away from this creepy photographer, too.

BRIDE: I wasn’t going to say anything, but yeah—is he like a pervert or something? Some perv who gets his rocks off on couples praying?

GROOM: Hit him with lightning, God! Hit this pervert with a big ol’ bolt!

[…]

BRIDE: Huh. Nothing.

GROOM: I’m sure God will kill the photographer with lightning later.

BRIDE: Well, Amen to that.

GROOM: Amen. Frickin’ perv.

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