A follower of Heather's American Medicine sent Heather a video question on how to calm wedding day jitters between two women who were about to get married.
Heather, sitting in front of a camera at a desk, shook her head into the camera. "Don't do it," she warned. "Being gay is a choice. I don't know if you've seen my other video, 'Gay Mormon Teen,' but I'm going to give you two the same advice I gave him. This--" Heather smashed her fists, thumb side against thumb side, together, as to indicate two women performing tribadism. "This doesn't make any sense. Where does—how do you put together things like that? It won't fit. Do you want to spend the rest of your life trying to figure out how that works?" Heather shook her head. "No you don't. What I suggest you to call the wedding off. Find a good man. Someone who can do this--" She put her right index finger in her left fist, suggesting penetrative sex. "And you marry him. You have to keep up appearances. I know gay marriage is now legal in all fifty states, but your neighbors might still not approve. What is this, the year 3001? Is your best friend a vulgar alcoholic robot?" Heather shook her head again. "No. Then you can plan vacations with your best girlfriends in Palm Beach every April or so. And don't forget pub crawl weekends, where ladies get in everywhere, wink wink nudge nudge say no more." Heather winked at the camera.
Heather signed off with her usual tagline: "You've been watching Heather's American Medicine. If it didn't taste so bad why does it taste so good?" After she mentioned where all her advice videos could be found on the internet, a woman appeared to Heather's right, nuzzling her neck. "Wifey, come to bed," the woman said. She kissed her neck. "I need you right now."
Heather cut her camera off in a panic.