'Here is the other slipper," said Cinderella as she produced the glass slipper the prince had come searching for.
"But...but your hands are covered with soot, your hair is in a mess, you are wearing a tattered dress. The maiden I saw at the ball was wearing a diamond studded gown and arrived in a golden carriage. She was nothing less than a royal princess. And you..." the prince trailed off, refusing to meet her eyes, unable to hide his disappointment. Try as he might he could not deny the semblance between the two. But he refused to acknowledge it.
"That was me. My fairy godmother did all that," Cinderella explained the magic spell by her fairy godmother, how she had changed the field mice into coachmen, how she had provided for the shimmering gown, the tiara, the glass slippers.
"...and the golden carriage was actually this pumpkin," she said pointing to the plump orange vegetable sitting in one corner of the room.
The wise men who had accompanied the prince smirked. The prince's face turned red with embarrassment.
As if on cue, the wicked stepmother rushed out of the kitchen.
"Oh dear," she exclaimed. " The poor girl has forgotten to take her anti-psychotics again."
The prince breathed a sigh of relief.
"Stop the search party immediately," he ordered his minister. "It's not everyday that a wicked stepmother will rush to my rescue."
He then softly asked him to dispose off the glass slipper to a place where it can never be found again.
Back at the palace, the king chuckled on hearing his son's narrow escape.
"I'd told you the slipper was a bad idea," he exclaimed in an all knowing tone, wagging his finger at the prince.
"You should understand that compatibility is much more than silent ball-room dancing."
The Prince sighed. His father was right. It was too risky living in a fairytale.
"But...but your hands are covered with soot, your hair is in a mess, you are wearing a tattered dress. The maiden I saw at the ball was wearing a diamond studded gown and arrived in a golden carriage. She was nothing less than a royal princess. And you..." the prince trailed off, refusing to meet her eyes, unable to hide his disappointment. Try as he might he could not deny the semblance between the two. But he refused to acknowledge it.
"That was me. My fairy godmother did all that," Cinderella explained the magic spell by her fairy godmother, how she had changed the field mice into coachmen, how she had provided for the shimmering gown, the tiara, the glass slippers.
"...and the golden carriage was actually this pumpkin," she said pointing to the plump orange vegetable sitting in one corner of the room.
The wise men who had accompanied the prince smirked. The prince's face turned red with embarrassment.
As if on cue, the wicked stepmother rushed out of the kitchen.
"Oh dear," she exclaimed. " The poor girl has forgotten to take her anti-psychotics again."
The prince breathed a sigh of relief.
"Stop the search party immediately," he ordered his minister. "It's not everyday that a wicked stepmother will rush to my rescue."
He then softly asked him to dispose off the glass slipper to a place where it can never be found again.
Back at the palace, the king chuckled on hearing his son's narrow escape.
"I'd told you the slipper was a bad idea," he exclaimed in an all knowing tone, wagging his finger at the prince.
"You should understand that compatibility is much more than silent ball-room dancing."
The Prince sighed. His father was right. It was too risky living in a fairytale.
(You can read more such stories and other updates on the facebook page dedicated to my debut novel. Here is the link http://facebook.com/TOFthenovel )
4 comments:
reminds me of a joke I heard a few days back...will take that offline
@ Lucifer
it better not be a PJ :-|
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