The Man from U.N.C.L.E

J. was seething.

He asked his daughter exactly how the conversation unfolded. There was very little if anything nebulous about it. Em had called his daughter directly and had extended an invitation just to her.

Did the Princess think for a moment that her relationship with J.'s daughter in any way eclipsed his own?

Was she leveraging what she thought was an eternal bond of servitude as a bridesmaid to pressure the girl into going, when it was already decided by her father that she would not?

Was she, a crafty and clever first year parochial school teacher, imploring J.'s daughter to exercise her newly gained rights as an 18 year old who can make her own decisions independent of the wishes of her parents?

Mrs. Scungili was feeling pretty powerful, wasn't she?

After taking a long car ride to alleviate his homicidal urges, he returned home to call Em directly.

He was picturing the scene. Sheila was probably over for a visit to look at the wedding video one more time. Mommom and Chuck and Em were all seated around the coffee table scratching their heads over the fact that their plan to manipulate the guest list had been met with uncharacteristic failure. (Where are Chuck's superhero powers when he needs them?) They'd inadvertently excluded J.'s girls. What to do, what to do?

Worse, they all assumed that J. had made the decision for his family without their involvement (Umm, hello, it is a decision, not a Constitutional Ammendment! We don't need to get the children's buy in every time!) His sour grapes from the wedding were staining his judgement and he was keeping his children away to spite them!

The perky and effervescent little Mrs. had a Girl Power thought! She would call J.'s oldest daughter. She was betting that she had no idea what had been decided for her and she'd be incensed! And she had such deep, abiding love and adoration for Em that she would thank her profusely for letting her know, and confront her evil wicked father and then insist that she be allowed to do the right thing. You go, Norma Rae!

J. picked up the phone and dialed Em. Knowing full well that she'd be sitting around in her Snuggy within earshot of his mother and Chuck, he wanted to send a shot over the bow that told them all the jig was up.

"Em, it's Uncle J. What was the purpose of your call to my daughter?"

"What do you mean, Uncle J.?" Surely she was sitting doe-eyed and blinking in her feigned innocence.

"You called, Em, and invited just her to Mommom's party. And you must already know that I have said we can not be there, for a littany of reasons I do not need to explain to you."

"Oh, no Uncle J.! I called to invite you all. I just called her because her number is in my phone."

"Em, you expect me to believe that you have been sitting there with your grandmother all day, and have talked to your mother 16 times, and you were somehow unaware that the party has become an epic boondoggle? And that my daughter, whose IQ by the way far exceeds yours, somehow misunderstood that your invitation was for all of us, and not just for her? Em, it seems to me that your call was an attempt to manipulate this situation."

"Oh no, Uncle J. I had no idea."

And to that, J. replied, as his father might have, "Em, you are a lying sack of s***."

And she, as one might have expected, simply hung up.