Wai-Tung Gao:
I don't know, we should have moved you out.
Simon:
I'll survive.
Wai-Tung Gao:
Not if Wei Wei keeps cooking.
Justice of the Peace:
Okay, now you: "I, Wee-Wee...”
Wei-Wei:
Wee-Wee.
Justice of the Peace:
"... take you, Wai Tung...”
Wei-Wei:
Wee-Wee.
Justice of the Peace:
Okay. "To be my wedded husband... to have and to hold...”
Wei-Wei:
Holding to have, husband, mine...
Justice of the Peace:
"... for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer...”
Wei-Wei:
Better and richer, no poorer.
Justice of the Peace:
"... in sickness and in health, till death do us part."
Wei-Wei:
Till sickness and death.
Justice of the Peace:
Groovy. Rings.
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