A (Real) Fairy Tale: Part One

Fiction By Clare Marie // 3/17/2010

** I hope to compile this into one section in the future, but I'm rather stuck right now, so I just decided to post this first part.  Hope you like it. ;) **

~

A (Real) Fairy Tale, Part One: 

In Which We Learn Some Things About Love

or

Enter the Dandy

 

~

 

Once upon a time, there was a man named Prince.  Just Prince.  At least, that was the name he was born with.  By the time he turned twenty-one, he had added onto it.
You see, Prince was not a real prince.  But before he turned twenty-one, every person he introduced himself to thought he was.
"Prince what?" they would say.
"Why, Prince nothing," he would reply.
"Prince Nothing?  What an unusual name."
"No, no, no, just Prince.  Nothing else."
This went on for so long that the Prince finally gave up.  But then the thought came to him that perhaps people only thought he was a prince because he looked like one.  Examining himself solemnly in the mirror (not a magic one) he came to the conclusion that he was right.  He did look very princely indeed, for he was very handsome.  He had long brown hair that he carefully bobbed every morning; fair white skin that he made sure to scrub every morning, and to which he applied lemon juice (every morning); pearly white teeth he painstakingly picked and brushed every morning; languid brown eyes, rimmed with long lashes which he curled every morning; and a very dashing moustache.
He was very handsome, and also rather vain.
So, using a large gift of money his doting parents (who don't come into this tale) had given him as an early twenty-first birthday present, he rode to the local town, had his name changed to Prince Hubert (having consulted The Manual of Common Princely Names and liking Hubert immensely); and he began introducing himself as such.  He never lied in word, really (he never said he was the Prince Hubert, only Prince Hubert, which was true), but his intentions were quite false. 
However, people believed him (mostly on his good looks), and with his remaining birthday money he bought a fine sword and hung it proudly at his side.  Then he “rode to distant lands” (if visiting his mother’s uncle’s second cousin can be considered as such) and came back with tales of daring deeds (which he had never done), and the people believed him all the more, because he looked so princely and courageous, and mostly because of his very dashing moustache.  He often practiced with his sword in the middle of the marketplace, cutting the throats of sacks of flour and skewering the hearts of cabbages.  Nonetheless, he made a daring sight weaving to and fro, with his bobbed hair wafting gracefully around his face, his fair white skin even whiter with perspiration, his pearly teeth flashing in a chivalrous smile, his languid brown eyes sparkling under the curled lashes, and his very dashing moustache fiercely stiffened.  The village girls all came without fail, and all promptly swooned.
There was, however, one damsel whose heart (the) Prince Hubert failed to capture.  Her name was Lila.  She had a rather long name (she was, in truth, a princess herself) and she hated it.  (She never revealed what it was so it is not in this tale.) She had hair like red gold, skin like marble, lips of shining coral, eyes as blue as the sky, a figure as slender as a young birch, and an alabaster brow.
Dear Lila had only one fault.
She loved dirt.  She loved getting dirty.  She loved boating and running and riding and rolling down hills.  She hated bathing, hated brushing her teeth, and could care less about facial washes — not to mention shampoo.  She was a tomboy who saw no good reason for girls not to have as much fun as boys, and she had no use for them besides (being jealous of their freedom).  In typical tomboyish fashion, she hated sentiment, romance, and all the rest.
As is usually the case with such things, she was the only woman (the) Prince Hubert loved, though he loathed her dirt.  She, on her part, would not even speak to him, after he mortally insulted her.
"You know, I could love you even more than I do already," he had mooned, blinking his languid eyes at her.
She went on playing her banjo.  (It was a new invention then.)  He liked the way it nestled in her marble arms.
"Do you want to know how?" he persisted, flashing a perfect smile.
"Hmm, yes, do tell," she had mumbled, absorbed with her instrument.
"I think," said (the) Prince grandly, "I could love you even more if you washed your face."
CRASH!  (The) Prince saw stars.  Lila's banjo was around his neck.
"YOU, YOU — PERVERT!" 
(The) Prince had gone home in tears and his very dashing moustache not so dashing now.

Soon recovering from the shock, (the) Prince kept his hopes up and had sent her a sentimental note, attached to a bunch of roses.

"Roses are red,
Violets are blue
There's no one in the world, sweet Lila
Like you.

Love forever,
Your darling secret admirer"

"What is this trash?" Lila stormed, chucking the roses at the (the) Prince's poor servant (whom she, luckily, did not recognize).  "Where's the sap who wrote this? I think I'll kill him!"
 

~

 

"What will I do?  What will I do?  Oh, my dear, sweet, darling Lila!"  (The) Prince Hubert strode miserably about his room, and he struck his fair white forehead in a momentary fit of passionate forgetfulness.  Quickly he ran to the mirror, horrified, and checked his forehead carefully.
"Um, Prince, s-sir, uh," stammered the servant.  (He was a nervous little thing, and Lila’s floral assault didn’t help much.)
(The) Prince turned from the mirror, satisfied that he had not done any damage to his flawless brow.
"That's Prince Hubert to you," he sniffed, smoothing his very dashing moustache.
"Prince, uh, Hubert, sir, have you thought a-a-about getting a love potion from-from the fairies?"
"Love potion?  Bah — that's old-fashioned stuff.  Nobody makes love potions anymore.  Nowadays, one must work to win fair lady.  It's so unfair."
"I-I think, sir, that maybe there is a-a fairy or s-s-something n-n-nea—"
"Oh stop babbling, what is it?  A fairy, what?" 
"F-f-f-fairy nearby th-that still makes l-l-love potions..."
"You don't say?"  (The) Prince fingered his sword thoughtfully.  "And how near, you say?"
"J-just a few miles, in the c-c-c-cliffs."
"Well, I may just have to go see this fairy.  Get ready my horse!"
And so (the) Prince Hubert mounted his faithful steed and rode gallantly away.  The cliffs were indeed only a few miles away and he arrived in a very short while.  Dismounting gracefully, he tossed his bobbed hair and looked about.  All was quiet and misted. 
"HALLOOOOOOO!" he called.  He listened....
Silence.
"I SAY — HALLOOOOOOOO!"
"Stop your hallooing, I can hear you quite well," said a raspy voice behind him.
He twirled and whipped out his sword — or at least, that's what he meant to do.  Not having been in such a sticky situation before (he was all play), he didn't know quite what to do.  He ended up yanking off his sheath and falling flat on his fair white face.
The voice sighed.  "To think this is the one.  *Tsk*  Well come on, bozo, what is it you want?"
(The) Prince struggled up from the dust and stared with dismay at his dirty clothes.  He reached up one hand and wiped dirt off his face.
"Dirt," he whispered faintly.  He looked up, his languid eyes blazing, and held out his hand to the voice.  "See, dirt!  I'm dirty!"  He stopped abruptly upon seeing the owner of the voice.  "Oh.  Who are you?"
There in front of him was an ugly little creature.  She was dressed in rags, with a large hooked nose, stringy hair, and bare feet.  Five teeth smiled out of her crooked face.  She had a hood on her head, and she had a humpback.
"I'm a witch, idiot.  What do you think?" she croaked.  She pointed a long nail at him.  "Tell me your name."
(The) Prince drew himself up proudly, his very dashing moustache stiff.  "I am Prince Hubert."
She cackled.  "You mean just Prince.  Prince nothing, I believe you used to say."
His languid eyes grew large, and he paled (more than the norm).  "How do you know?"
"Again, I'm a witch.  We know everything.  But I know a little extra about you, because I am —ahem!— your fairy godmother."
(The) Prince's nose wrinkled in disgust.  "But you're not a fairy, and you are most —"
"Ugly, yes, of course I am."  She grinned.  "You're nose'll stick like that if you keep on."
Hastily (the) Prince smoothed out his noble organ. 
"So, again I ask: what is it you want?" said the Fairy Godmother.
"I want a love potion."
"A WHAT?"
"A love potion, you tottering old thing.  L-O-V..."
"...E-P-O-T-I-O-N," she interrupted sarcastically.  "I heard you the first time.  I was merely…er…wondering why in the world you want a love potion?”
"You're the fairy godmother.  You should know."
She snorted.  "Maybe I'll just go away and leave you without your precious love potion, if you insist on insulting me."
(The) Prince immediately flashed his pearly white teeth in an apologetic smile.
"But you're right, I do know," went on the Fairy Godmother.  She beckoned to him.  "Come, let's make ourselves comfortable."
She sat down on a rock and motioned to (the) Prince to do the same. Pulling out a scented lace handkerchief, he flicked it about, dusting the rock off carefully; then he gingerly sat himself down.
The Fairy Godmother kept a grave countenance. “Now,” she began, businesslike, “to even consider concocting a love potion, one must have the details. First, you will need to describe the woman whom you wish to win.”
(The) Prince immediately stood up. An obliging ray of sunlight shot down through the clouds and set his flawless countenance alight. Clasping his heart dramatically, he waxed poetic, lavishing occasional groans all the while.
“Why,” he said, “to what may I compare thee, loveliest Lila? Compared to thy milk-white skin, the moon is but a shadow; compared to thy golden hair, the sun is but a dying gleam; compared to thy coral lips, my blood is but a dried-up stream, perishing with the heat of my love…”
“All right, all right!” sighed the Fairy Godmother wearily. “I think I get the point. However, that’s one good thing: the potion requires such an idioti—I mean, er, stupi—that is, ideal, um, stupendous love.”
(The) Prince Hubert didn’t seem to notice her slip. “What else, what else?” he demanded eagerly, his brown eyes fiery.
“Ahem, yes, well, next you must describe how she feels for you,” continued the Godmother, glad she caught herself. “Obviously, we know she does not love you — why else would you be here? — but is she friendly to you? Indifferent?”
“Neither, it seems,” mumbled (the) Prince gloomily. “She hates me.”
“Better and better,” drawled the Fairy Godmother cheerfully. “One strong passion on each side. Very good.”
“You are mocking me?” exclaimed (the) Prince, indignant.
“Not at all, my dear,” replied she, coolly. “Who’s the one who knows this sort of stuff? The one who’s done it all her life (and believe me, that’s a long time) or the one who writes sentimental trash to the person who would take it the worst?”
“Right, right,” he growled, nibbling on his moustache. “You don’t need to rub it in. And yet, ‘tis another strike against me.”
“No need for worry. Two negatives make a positive, you know.”
But (the) Prince looked so nobly perplexed (he failed preschool five years in a row), she hurriedly moved on.
“Well,” said the Fairy Godmother, standing up with some creaking, “I think we are just about ready to start.” With that, she scuttled away – rather nimbly for her age – and motioned (the) Prince to follow her.
“Where to, witch?” asked (the) Prince, annoyed. He felt he had just gotten comfortable, though it was a dirty rock he had been sitting on. He got up and carefully ran an eyeball down his back to make sure there was no dirt clinging to his pants.
“My home, where else?” snorted the Fairy Godmother, now rather far ahead. “Hurry up ‘cause I won’t wait for you.” Resignedly, (the) Prince strode forward with his fine nose and very dashing moustache straight up in the air. As he walked, our noble hero spent his time composing poetry and musing on the dangerous beauty of Lila. 
 

Comments

this is so funny!

Hilarious! I bet I know who the witch is...XD

KatieSara | Wed, 03/17/2010

Katie:-)

"Are all humans like this? So much bigger on the inside?"
-Idris/TARDIS

LOL!!!!! This is hysterically

LOL!!!!! This is hysterically funny! :0D I kept thinking it would make a great animated movie. "Enter the Dandy"..."having consulted The Manual of Common Princely Names and liking Hubert immensely"...LOL. I'm sending my little sister this link, she'd love it!

Heather | Wed, 03/17/2010

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
And now our hearts will beat in time/You say I am yours and you are mine...
Michelle Tumes, "There Goes My Love"

funny!

This was really humorous :) I love fairy tale spoofs. I am writing this review from my Amazon Kindle.
Laura Elizabeth

Anonymous | Wed, 03/17/2010

XD

I love this! Hilarious! There were so many great lines I can't even pick a favorite...

Hannah W. | Wed, 03/17/2010

This is one of the funniest

This is one of the funniest things I've ever read! I was practically in tears the whole time I was reading it. Eagerly awaiting the next part!!!

Erin | Wed, 03/17/2010

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond

...

"He often practiced with his sword in the middle of the marketplace, cutting the throats of sacks of flour and skewering the hearts of cabbages."

" (The) Prince's nose wrinkled in disgust.  "But you're not a fairy, and you are most —"
"Ugly, yes, of course I am."  She grinned.  "You're nose'll stick like that if you keep on."
Hastily (the) Prince smoothed out his noble organ."

"He got up and carefully ran an eyeball down his back to make sure there was no dirt clinging to his pants. "

This is the funniest thing I've read in a long time.  I like this prince!  He's so delightfully detestable, and I dreadfully hope he doesn't get the girl in the end.

Bridget | Thu, 03/18/2010

"I always wonder why birds stay in the same place when they can fly anywhere on the earth. Then I ask myself the same question." - Harun Yahya

Satirical fun

I really like (the) Prince.

 

Wait, no, I don;'t

I like laughing at him. He's so stupid and awful...this ought to be good.

Julie | Thu, 03/18/2010

Formerly Kestrel

I didn't know you had such a

I didn't know you had such a amazingly brilliant sense of humor!!! Ahahahaha.... This was the funniest thing I've ever read in my life. Cannot wait for the second part. And maybe the third part, and the fourth part, etc., etc. :)

Anonymous | Thu, 03/18/2010

This is such a delightful

This is such a delightful tale. I look forward to reading more once you get unstuck

Keri | Thu, 03/18/2010

This is so wonderfully funny.

This is so wonderfully funny. :D "Your nose will stick like that if you keep on!"

Melissa | Fri, 03/19/2010

Wow, gee, thanks everyone! 

Wow, gee, thanks everyone!  I'm really grateful for your comments.  I wasn't expecting so many. :)

Clare Marie | Fri, 03/19/2010

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve." -Bilbo Baggins [The Lord of the Rings]

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!! A million thumbs up i loved it!!!!!

Clare | Sun, 03/21/2010

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