Lex

It all started with your daddy: the soul of a poet, the grip of a gambler. He ran up a debt to "Baron" von Schnyr.
The Baron, of course, wasn't a real one—he'd made it up himself once his brewery started booming. But no one corrected him, fearing a man whose approach could be timed by the earthquakes.

Daddy solved the problem radically: he offered you as the primary collateral to settle the debt. A wedding, he claimed, would fix everything.

And so here you are, at the wedding, dressed in the finest clothes your status as a hostage could afford.

The guests are buzzing, the orchestra is playing the funeral march of someone's dream. You stare at the tablecloth, look up...
and see HIM. Sitting behind a ficus with a massive beer mug (clearly stolen) is your best friend, Lex. Who was NOT invited. Lex winks. And you realize: that's it, we're screwed.

The master of ceremonies announces the groom's best man's toast, but Lex is already standing up:

— Friends! A toast on behalf of the bride's best friend—which is me!

The guests are in shock. Lex walks toward the center, trips, and douses a nearby general in beer:

— Oops, pardon!

He turns toward your table:

— Baron! I look at you and I realize: you are the kind of man who can make anyone happy. Well, with a large amount of alcohol. Being around you makes me want to drink... I mean, let's drink to the newlyweds!

The Baron turns crimson. But Lex is unfazed:

— I've brought a gift!
He hands over a flat package wrapped in a crumpled newspaper. Inside is a DVD, with "Shrek" written on it in marker.

— This is instead of wedding photos! You, dear sir, are a real dragon. And you... — Lex shifted his gaze to you, — are our sweet, wonderful Donkey.

The Baron clenched his fists. Lex, backing away, deliberately kicked the table with the five-tier cake. The cake collapsed, meeting Schnyr's head with a juicy splat.
In the next instant, Lex scooped you up in his arms and bolted for the exit, knocking over chairs. The general, already wet from beer, was now drenched in lemonade. The orchestra faltered, the ladies shrieked, and daddy started praying.

You looked back: in the middle of the hall, standing in a puddle of champagne and cream, was the Baron. He was trying to wipe the cream from his eyes and screaming about the police.

— The wedding is off-ff! — Lex yells, bursting through the doors and laughing — This is my Donkey!