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Funny Best Man Speech for a Future Brother-in-Law: 3 Full Examples

A best man speech for a future brother-in-law has a built-in joke you should use straight away: he is marrying into your family, and you are the one holding the microphone. You did not grow up with this man. You inherited him, watched him survive a decade of family dinners, and somehow ended up best man anyway. Below are three complete examples, each between 500 and 700 words, for three different brothers-in-law. One roasts the man who out-cooked their mother, one welcomes the guy who joined the family group chat too eagerly, and one hands over a big sister. Take the shape, not the words. Your version needs the dinners only you sat through.

The speeches

The Man Who Won Christmas≈ 4 min

Evening, everyone. I'm Ravi. I'm the bride's big brother, which makes me the only best man in this room who got a vote on whether the groom was allowed in the family, and I want it noted that I lost.

Here is the strange thing about being best man for the bloke marrying your sister. I did not pick Tom. He arrived. Eight years ago Carys brought him to Sunday lunch, and he turned up with a bottle of wine and a haircut he was clearly nervous about, and my dad shook his hand for slightly too long, the way he does when he's deciding something.

Tom did not grow up with me. He had to learn this family from the outside, like a man reading the safety card on a plane that is already on fire. And he was so keen. That first year he laughed at every single one of my dad's jokes, including the ones that are not jokes, including the long story about the conservatory that has no ending. I watched him nod through forty minutes of guttering. I knew then he was either in love or unwell.

Then came the Christmas he ruined for all of us. My mum has cooked the Christmas roast for thirty years. It is hers. It is not up for discussion. And Tom, two years in, still basically a guest, asked very gently if he could maybe do the potatoes. My mum said yes the way you say yes to a toddler holding scissors. He made these potatoes. I am not going to describe them, because we are in a church hall and I have some dignity. They were the best thing anyone has eaten in that house. My mum has never recovered. She asks for him by name now. I am her son and she asks for him by name.

That is the man my sister found. He shows up, he tries too hard, and then he is quietly better at the thing than you were. When I split up with someone a few years back, Tom drove over without being asked and sat with me in the garage and did not say one wise thing, which was exactly right. He just brought crisps and let me be miserable. He is family now in the way that counts, which is that he has seen me at my worst and stayed anyway.

Carys, you watched this man memorise our chaos on purpose because it came attached to you. You laughed at him the whole time. The first proper date, he told me later, you took him to the worst pub in town as a test, and he passed by not complaining about the carpet. You are calmer with him. You used to text me when things went wrong. You don't as much now, and I have made my peace with being slowly made redundant by a man who can roast a potato.

Tom. I did not choose you. My sister did, and she is sharper than me, so I trust it. You spent eight years earning a seat at our table. Today you get the table.

Everyone, on your feet. To Carys and Tom. May he keep being too good at things that were never his job. And may my mum, one day, let me back in the kitchen.

To Carys and Tom.

Spoken by Ravi, 34, an electrician and the bride's older brother, best man for the man marrying his little sister. 563 words.

Welcome to the Group Chat≈ 4 min

Hi everyone. I'm Megan. I'm the bride's sister, and yes, the best man is a woman, because Daniel asked me and my sister threatened him until he meant it. I'm a vet, so I have spent a lot of my life calming down nervous creatures who are not sure what's happening to them, which made me ideal for managing the groom this morning.

I did not grow up with Daniel. He married in, which means I have a very specific kind of evidence on him. I never saw him as a teenager. I have no school photos. What I have is ten years of watching a grown man try to become a member of this family in real time, and it has been a privilege.

The key moment, for me, was the group chat. Our family has a chat. It is mostly my mum sending the same news article four times and my dad replying with a thumbs up to things that are sad. When Sophie and Daniel got serious, we added him. Most people would lurk for a respectful month. Daniel was in there within an hour, organising a birthday I had already organised and using my mum's full name with a kiss on the end. My mum loved it. The rest of us watched a man speedrun becoming the favourite, and we have never caught up.

That is who he is. Too much, immediately, with his whole heart. When my flat flooded two winters ago, I texted that chat at midnight half asleep, and Daniel was outside my building at half past with a wet vac he had bought on the way. He did not ask Sophie if he should. He just decided I was his to look after now. I stood in two inches of water arguing with my brother-in-law-to-be about whose turn it was to hold the bucket, and somewhere in there I stopped thinking of him as my sister's boyfriend.

He is not a smooth man. He once called my dad sir for a full year. He labels leftovers in our shared fridge at the lake house, with the date, like a forensic technician. He cried at a dog food advert at my kitchen table and then blamed my actual dog. But he turns up before you ask, every time, and that is rarer than charm.

Sophie, you saw all of this before any of us. You brought home a man who wanted in so badly he learned every birthday in the family inside a fortnight, and you laughed at him, and then you kept him. You are softer around him. You let him be ridiculous and you guard him while he does it. Watching you two has taught me what I'm actually looking for, and it is not cool. It is this.

Daniel. You joined our family one overeager text at a time, and now we cannot picture the table without you. Welcome is the wrong word. You handled that years ago.

Everyone, stand up and lift your glasses. To Sophie and Daniel. May he never stop trying too hard. And may someone, finally, take him off fridge-labelling duty.

To Sophie and Daniel.

Spoken by Megan, 31, a vet and the bride's sister, best man for the groom who is about to become her brother-in-law. 529 words.

Handing Her Over≈ 4 min

Hello. I'm Noah, the bride's little brother, and I'm the best man, which is a polite way of saying I'm the one losing a sister and gaining a bloke who steals my chargers.

For most of my life it was me and Hannah against everything. She is four years older and she ran the show. She taught me to drive in a car park, badly, and she once told a teacher off on my behalf so fiercely he apologised to both of us. So when she brought home Jordan six years ago, I want to be honest, I was ready to hate him on principle, the way you hate anyone taking the best person you've got.

The problem is the man is impossible to hate, and believe me, I gave it a real go. He's a paramedic, same as me, which sounds like a nice coincidence until you've sat next to him at a family barbecue while two ambulance crews argue about the correct way to coil a blanket. He did not try to win me over with charm. He won me over by being deeply, relentlessly uncool. He keeps a spare phone charger in his glove box, his coat, and, I have seen this, his sock once. He alphabetises the spice rack at my parents' house when he is stressed. He calls a sandwich a sad meal if it has no side, which is now a thing my entire family says.

Here's when it actually turned for me. Two years ago I had a brutal shift, the kind you don't talk about at dinner, and I rang Hannah and she didn't pick up. Jordan did. He didn't ask what happened or try to fix it. He just stayed on the phone in silence while I sat in my car in the dark, for forty minutes, until I could drive home. He never told Hannah. I only know it mattered because I've done it for someone since. That's the thing about marrying into a family of paramedics. He understood the bit nobody says out loud.

So I stopped guarding Hannah from him a long time ago. He's not stealing her. He's just standing next to her now, and he's earned the spot.

Hannah. You were my first protector, and watching you find someone who protects you back has been the strangest, best thing. You laugh louder around him. You let him be soft. You spent years looking after me, so it is a genuine relief to hand you to someone who looks after you like that, even if he did it over the phone in a car park at one in the morning.

Jordan. You came for my sister and you accidentally got me too, charger thief and all. I'd have picked you. I'm glad I didn't have to, because she's smarter than me and she got there first.

Everyone, please stand and raise a glass. To Hannah and Jordan. May he protect her the way he answered that phone. And may he, one single time, buy his own chargers.

To Hannah and Jordan.

Spoken by Noah, 27, a paramedic and the bride's younger brother, best man for the man marrying his big sister. 514 words.

How to make it yours

Questions

What do I say in a best man speech for a future brother-in-law if I do not know him that well yet?

Make the short history the joke instead of hiding it. A brother-in-law best man almost never has childhood stories, and pretending otherwise sounds hollow. Lean on what you genuinely have: the dinners he sat through, the moment your sibling brought him home, the first time he tried too hard to fit in. Then build the heart of the speech around one real time he showed up for your family. Six years of being a good in-law beats twenty years of being a so-so friend, and the room can feel the difference.

Is it okay to joke about him marrying into the family?

Yes, and it is your single best angle. The in-law premise is built-in comedy: you did not choose him, he arrived, and now you are giving the speech. Joke about how keen he was to be liked, how long it took your parents to warm up, the family habits he had to learn from scratch. Keep every joke pointed at the joining-in, never at your sibling's choice or the marriage itself. The test is simple. If the joke implies he does not belong, cut it. If it implies he tried adorably hard to belong, keep it.

How do I handle the emotional part when it is my own brother or sister getting married?

Say the real thing once, clearly, and then stop. If you are the bride's brother or sister, there is a genuine feeling that you are handing over someone who used to be yours, and the room will feel it more coming from you than from a friend. Name it in a sentence or two, frame it as trusting the groom to take over the job, and move on. The mistake is dwelling. One honest line about losing your sibling to a good man is moving. A whole paragraph of it turns a wedding speech into a goodbye, and you want them laughing again by the toast.