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Sunlight streamed through stained glass as Elsa smoothed her silk gown, breaths shallow with anticipation. Years of envisioning this moment—candlelit vows, a waltz beneath crystal chandeliers, the first bite of tiered cake—were finally real. Yet Jack, ever the joker, had smuggled a surprise into the pastry’s cream layers. The knife pierced fondant—*bang!* Frosting erupted like volcanic ash. Ribbons of buttercream streaked her face; lace sleeves dripped crimson berry filling. Guests froze mid-cheer. With the orchestra tuning up and the priest clearing his throat, desperation glinted in Elsa’s eyes. Dive into the chaos—snatch the emergency kit from the floral truck, barter with panicked bridesmaids for their spare dresses, dodge glitter-bomb groomsmen—and undo this sugary disaster. Every smeared eyeliner second counts. Transform this icing-coated calamity into a comeback before the final chords of the wedding march fade.
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