[Photos: WENN.com]
HELENA BONHAM CARTER: Oh, Tim. You are so precious. I DO love you.
MICHAEL SHEEN: I'm... not your husband.
HBC: Of course you are! And I'm so enjoying this wedding.
MICHAEL : I'm not, and also, this isn't a wedding.
HBC: Quite right -- it's not just A wedding. It's a ROYAL wedding. How silly of me to imply it's just some run-of-the-mill marriage when I am wearing a crazy hat!
MICHAEL : ... Nope, not that either.
HBC: NOT a wedding, then? Hmm. Must be a funeral. Why didn't you tell me, Tim? I'd have left the chafing dish and pickle forks at home.
MICHAEL : Oh, God, this is awkward. Helena, look at me. At ME. Michael.
HBC: Why am I holding this thing in my hand? This must be a dream! God, it's strange. But quite exciting. Where will I be next, I wonder? I hope it's Versailles! Or maybe in the conservatory, killing Miss Scarlett with this plexiglass thing.
MICHAEL: Does anyone have a bucket of water to throw on her? No, wait, it'll ruin my suit. I'll just pinch her instead.
HBC: BLOODY HELL, that was... wait, hang on a mo, when did Michael Sheen get here? And where IS here, exactly?
MICHAEL: Welcome back, Helena. We're at some awards thingy together. Don't be alarmed, but you're wearing a giant veil stapled to a fascinator of some ilk.
HBC: Oh, bollocks. And people can see me?
MICHAEL: Yes.
HBC: And I've been here how long?
MICHAEL: At least twenty minutes.
HBC: And did I... nuzzle you?
MICHAEL: Yes indeedy.
HBC: That settles it. I'm going to THROTTLE Tim for letting me sleepwalk this far out of the house.
