As we heard in part one, Si Hawkins was preparing for his wedding speech. So, how did it go?

So, the wedding day. A nervy-enough experience anyway, but with added jangly-butterflies when:

(A) You've got to do a Groom speech with added Best Man-style bits, having promised your Best Men that they don't have to do one, for some daft reason.

(B) It really needs to be at least vaguely humorous, given that you've been criticising professional comedians' well-crafted material for years so a torrent of tumbleweeds would be pretty bloody embarrassing. And quite likely, given that...

(C) You haven't really tried to be funny on stage since a disastrous, heckle-ravaged attempt at doing stand-up about football a few years ago, which put you off for a while, possibly ever.

Back in Ring of Fire Part One I asked some stand-ups for speech advice, the upshot of which was, tellingly, 'keep it short.' But there are gags and tributes to squeeze in and, frankly, I ramble at the best of times. More advice is welcome then, and one comic with this stuff surely on the mind already is James Dowdeswell, who's plighting his own troth later this year, so I ask him for some groom-speech advice.

James knocks out a list that's probably worth noting for any wedding-speecher:

(1) Stay away from in-jokes. Try to paint a picture that everyone can get on board with.

(2) I pay the person a compliment, then undercut it with humour. "My wife / husband is great with people, apart from the time..."

(3) Try to memorise the speech as much as possible so you can really perform it. But still have a copy in front of you, as emotion or the sense of occasion can make you lose your place.

(4) Try not to drink too much beforehand. If it goes well there will no shortage of folk wanting to buy you a drink.

(5) Have fun and enjoy the experience.

All good advice. And somehow, come the moment, I manage to ignore most of it.

Let's start with (3), memorising the speech. I don't memorise the speech, because I don't have a finished speech to memorise. Really, who has the time? Logistically, weddings are like deciding to complete on a house purchase the exact same day that you're hosting a festival it's taken over a year to organise. Which obviously you would never do.

On a wedding day there are about 60 things more important than the speech to remember, even though the speech is the one you'll lie awake at night reliving if it all goes pear shaped. There's only one option: go full Skywalker firing proton torpedoes down the thermal exhaust port, shut my eyes and hope for the best.

Back to (1), and one bit I do ink in is an in-joke that only one person in the audience would understand. Brilliant!

In 1992 the soon-to-be-estranged, only recently back-in-touch duo Baddiel & Newman released a VHS compilation of their omni-popular sketch History Today, which was ok. But what resonated with my brother and I was the free Derek & Clive-esque audio cassette that came with it, Minutes of the Parish Council Meeting, particularly a track called Jimmy Hill in which a scathing Baddiel interviews the infamous football pundit. For some reason, among all the excellent swearing, Newman as Hill saying "the sort of arena" stuck with us for decades. So I work that in, for the benefit of just one guest. Genius.

As for (2), Dowdeswell's complimenting/undercutting comedy principle, this speech is a bit random for that, but I do actively rave about the bride, which not every groom remembers to do, apparently. And (4), the not getting tipsy - well, it's a wedding.

I was genuinely planning on staying sober before tapping the glass, but, hey, you can't tap a glass if you haven't got one. And it's a corking glass: when we booked the popular mobile fish-and-chippery The Frying Squad to feed everyone, I also went for their funky new prosecco van, Fizzy Lizzy, which it turns is a proper four-flavour affair, and pretty much the most popular thing I've ever done. They're the two most popular vans since Morrison and Damme.

And that perky prosecco truck helps enormously with the most important tip here, that final one about trying to bloody enjoy it. It's a word of advice that's worth remembering in many life events really: the actual wedding ceremony, for example.

I'm delighted to report that ours went swimmingly, chiefly due to the ebullience and impressive lack of tension emanating from my other half, who has happily managed not to go Bridezilla over the last 18 months, despite being engaged to me. Perhaps just an occasional burst of Bridezooky.

So, an hour later, emboldened by a flute of bubbly and a grinning bride, I lurch up and launch into the speech. And, thank the lord, or thank The Queen rather, the opening line gets a laugh: "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, Your Royal Highness..." a salute to a slightly random portrait of Her Maj that hangs over this particular hall. Handy.

From there it's all oddly relaxed; probably way too freeform-jazz, in fact, but hey, it's different. I don't suppose many wedding speeches include a Kriss Akabusi section, apart from weddings that include actual Kriss Akabusi. It's a bit about happiness, basically, and how meeting the right person can make you the second happiest man in the world, after Kriss Akabusi, obviously.

But, hey, today isn't just about Kriss Akabusi. It's time for the thank you toasts, a tribute to absent friends, me then admitting that many of those friends were only absent because we forgot to invite them (honestly, so much admin), and done. It's a bit of a mess, but, yep, I enjoyed it. Three cheers for the three comedy mentors, and particularly Fizzy Lizzy.

Minutes later I'm relishing exactly the post-speech wind-down I'd planned back in Part One - necking a bottle of ale named after our wedding venue while frantically knob-twiddling on the football table, which the new Mrs let me book as long as she could customise it in similarly appropriate fashion: with tiny veils! (pic). Bride-a-side football: you heard it here first.

But then - like some karmic emissary of every Edinburgh Fringe comedian I've ever unfavourably reviewed over the years - a random guest decides to wander past and disrupt this relief-fest by helpfully reviewing the speech: "You rambled, in places." Yeah, cheers for that.

Still, could be worse, and the great thing about wedding speeches compared to professional stand-up: it really helps when you control the seating plan, and can put all the guaranteed big-laughers up the front. If only you could do that at comedy clubs, eh?

Wedding photos courtesy of the excellent Stephen McKenna Photography

You can book fine comic and wine buff James Dowdeswell at jamesdowdeswell.co.uk and the hugely popular Fizzy Lizzy at fizzylizzy.co.uk