By the time I reached the ripe old age of 24, I was beginning to wonder if a beautiful, outstandingly intellectual person such as myself could ever find true love. I mean, I'm very intimidating, so how can anyone ever feel worthy enough to be in my constant company?

Never one to sit around and mope (much), I set about trying to find my soul mate. The search didn't last long, as I quickly realized that the one person I truly belonged with had been there all along. He was Jorge, Bella's possessed trainer.

It made perfect sense, really. He knew my personality well, and that hadn't scared him off even after a couple years of relatively constant criticism of his training techniques. (For example, he didn't take it well when I suggested that he allow Bella to knaw on his arm during her guard-dog training, so that she could learn to crave the taste of blood. But still, he always put up with me.) Plus, he was possessed by the Devil, which gave him quite the interesting personality.

Now, one thing you may not realize about the Jackadillo Princess is that I have an intense fear of rejection. This is why, once I've decided what I want, I tend to resort to "underhanded" or "unethical" measures to achieve my goals. So it's easy to understand, then, why I chose to trick Jorge into marrying me, rather than simply asking him if he wanted to.

So one day, I told Jorge that he was invited to a formal barbecue and I expected him to attend. Little did he know that I was planning to go to the barbecue, too -- in a wedding dress.

As soon as Jorge arrived, I cornered him and informed him that he was about to become my husband. Then, I promptly began beating him into submission. It turned out, however, that the beating was totally unnecessary, because Jorge had long had a crush on me, too. So we covered his bruises with some makeup and prepared for the ceremony.

I quickly told the rest of the wedding party and the guests to come out from their hiding places in the bushes, and we all took our positions. The judge emerged from his hiding place under the deck and made his way to the patio where the wedding would take place, and the ceremony began. (Note: I hired a judge to officiate the event, lest a priest attempt an exorcism on Jorge in the middle of the festivities.)

At my request, my father, the Jackadillo King, took a break from cleaning his guns and changed out of his camouflage Royal Army uniform to walk me down the aisle. The whole way, he told jokes about Aggies and Catholics to keep me from getting too nervous. I don't know if you can tell from the photo at the left, but I was having considerable trouble not laughing.

The ceremony went very well, and a few of the female guests even cried because they were so jealous of my beauty. I get that a lot.

Afterward, Jorge and I returned to the Jackadillo Republic to begin our new life together. We couldn't really take the time out for a honeymoon just then, for two reasons: My assets were still frozen, and Jorge had to work the next day.

For more photos from our beautiful wedding, please click here. Oops, did I say please? I meant to say, I demand that you look at the other wedding photos. Really, they're very cool.

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