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What do a marriage certificate, a wedding band, and a hangover have in common? It's Vegas, baby!
What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. That was the slogan, right? Well, for Slate that wasn't necessarily the case.
What started out as a drunken celebration in honor of one of his club brothers getting married, ended up being a night he couldn't forget. Scratch that. It was a night he couldn't remember. Like in, he had no memory at all of what he might have done that night.
All he knows is that he came back with more than he had gone out there with. If the marriage certificate in his duffel bag and the silver wedding band on his finger were anything to go by, he was married. Married!? What the hell?
He has no memory of who this mystery wife is or even what she looks like. For that matter, where the hell is she? Someone suggested he scroll through his pictures on his phone to see if there were any clues.
His Hell's Minions brothers found the whole idea that he was married to some random woman hysterical. Slate, not so much. As far as he was concerned, his best course of action would be to hunt this woman down and ask her for an annulment. If that didn't work, he'd beg her for a divorce.
