Thinking he was of a marriageable age but knowing he was so shy as to potentially remain a bachelor forever, my sister, Marie, and I took it upon themselves to find our friend, Poison Pie, a bride. Abstractly speaking, Poison Pie was well-disposed to brides--the veil, the white dress, the bouquet over the shoulder, liquor at the reception, the conjugal delights of the nuptial night, etc... So he gave us his blessing and sent us on our way.

The first place to go looking for a bride is always a National Park, especially when the groom is a man of the mushroom people, as was Poison Pie.