"Excelsier!" cried Gilgamesh. His other two companions, both of them, looked at him askance. "Excelsier!", it seemed, was not the sort of thing one cried out in the middle of a dinner party. No doubt this explained the rather explosive "Oof!" which followed, as his companions' elbows intersected somewhere in the middle of Gilgamesh's rib cage.
"Youch," he yelled, while someone at the other end of the table called for a toast to the bride and groom.
Said calling was sufficiently loud to bring forth the attention of the half-dozing Orthros O'McUltros, who hastily responded. "Right! A toast!" With those words, he flung two lightly crisped slices of whole grain rye in the faces of the betrothed.
"Dammit," responded the best man, Edward, "don't throw toast at Sieg and
Excel! I called for a toast, not a piece of toasted bread!"
"Shut up, you spoony bard!" cried out Tellah, one of the guests.
Everyone became alarmed at the disturbance of what had been such a tasteful celebration. One and all, they turned toward Gilgamesh, and shouted...
"Off with his head!" Gilgamesh, ashamed and embarrassed, decided that it would be best to comply, and so dutifully removed his head. Sieg fainted, but Excel took the matter in stride, having seen worse injuries healed many times over the course of any given day. The undercover police officers in the crowd, however, were less accepting.
They deemed this to be a form of suicide -- against the law, obviously.
"You'll have to come to the station with us to make a confession," said the
copper.
"What?" shouted Gil (as Gilgamesh liked to be called). "It ain't suicide
unless I die and I ain't dead yet."
"Well, it was attempted suicide."
"OK," replied Gil. "I won't do it again."
"Well, you can go this time, but if you do succeed at suicide, you won't
get off so easy next time," said the cop.
Exiting the banquet later in the evening, with his head tucked under his arm, Gil made a very firm note to self: "Next time, Read The Protocol Briefing!"