Congratulations on Consummating Your Marriage!

You’re a young Indian man from Bombei or Mumbai or however people are spelling it nowadays and you’ve been bethrothed to a young woman named Sarah Jessica Parker Azam since you were eight years old. The two of you were even married two weeks ago, but due to a strange ceremonial loophole the entire thing went down through proxies. As a result you’ve never actually seen your wife.

Since your family is big in organized crime you’ve gotten into some trouble of late with rival gangs and the law and you really don’t want to die a virgin. You’ve got a personal issues with sleeping with prostitutes and you’re fucking unbearable to talk to so there’s no way you could convince a woman to lay with you on your own merits. But you figure Sarah Jessica Parker is a sure thing so you’ve put plans in to motion to actually see her.

It will begin when you smuggle yourself out of Pompei, or wherever the fuck you live, in a train car filled with chickens. It’ll smell awful, but you’ll have all the raw eggs and chicken feed you could ever want. You'll exit the train in Calcutta, the home of your "wife", where you’ll spend the better part of two days dodging the law and murdering members of rival crime families. After some comical misadventures you’ll discover that she’s actually the daughter of a rival crime boss, the second biggest in the country behind your dad. Then you'll break into their family’s compound and steal into her room while she brushes her hair.

Once there you’ll see that you don’t find her that attractive, but she’ll be passable and you’ll lay it all out for her. You’ll tell her that you’d like your wedding night, that you’ve never been with anyone, and that you think she's cute if not jaw droppingly sexy. She’ll laugh when you say that and agree to fuck you for sympathy’s sake, but on the condition that, if it isn’t any good the two of you will legally separate the next day and her father and brothers will cut your dick off then hang you from a tree by the neck until you die.

You’ll agree and the two of you will spit on your palms, shake hands and get nude.

When you fuck it’ll be like angels coming down from the heavens to sing homilies who meet up with Slash doing a guitar solo halfway down and just decide to rock it in a way that everyone everywhere can enjoy. It’ll be everything you ever hoped sex could be. She’ll agree that it was pretty great breathlessly and the two of you will simultaneously realize that your sham marriage was the best thing that has ever happened to either of you. Then you'll smooch.

You’ll both still be afterglowing like crazy when you decide to high tail it to Boston to live with your cousin (Hint: her name rhymes with Lhumpa Jahiri.) until you get on your feet. That’ll be the start of your second action packed escape, which will eventually become the subject of your blockbuster screenplay. You'll embellish and elaborate on the details of the story we just in an attempt to make a prequel and cash in on the film's popularity, but all it will serve to do is establish you as a one hit wonder in the screenwriting world.

And this never would’ve happened if you hadn’t decided to run with your zany, backwards traditions. Congratulations on consummating your marriage, you crazy kids!