It’s as if we’re sisters separated and now rejoined, Penny told herself as she moved back toward the big green Palace.

We are like sisters, Tabby thought to herself.

 

The Evil Queen & The Two Princesses

Hello, my name is Jake Grimy. My brother Willy is not here right now, so it will fall to me to tell you this story. Man, this story has it all.

There is a powerful King and his beautiful but evil wife, the Queen. We have a helpless stepchild— no, not a stepchild, an adopted child. Yet still a stepchild and not adopted. Which will all be revealed in time. Have you got it? We have a hot, sexy Fairy Queen. Well, several fairies are, but only one Fairy Queen.

Then there are a couple of elves and a plethora of other characters. In addition, it has sex; nasty, dripping, wet, hot sex. Believe me; if you haven’t had hot magical sex, you just haven’t had sex. Something about having sex while floating above the floor is outstanding.

Actually, I exaggerated; there is not a whole lot of sex, because this is a Fairytale after all. In fact, hardly any sex. Perhaps some euphemisms and innuendo, but that’s all.

Oh, wait, I’ve started this all wrong, and you, being a perceptive individual, already realized it. Here I am waffling on about sex, and we have not begun this in a proper fairy-tale manner at all.

First, this is not my story, but rather a story told to my brother by an elf friend of ours. He obtained it firsthand from a cousin who knew one of the actual elves involved. Or, he knew someone who knew someone who knew one of the actual elves involved. Something like that.

Hmm, I’ll check into it and get back to you.

What I’m trying to say is, this story is accurate, having only been handed down four or five times.

Secondly, and this is important: it happened, honest Injun, and hope my brother dies. If I’m lying, he’s dying.

Why would I?

However, not in any place you would have heard of. Now this Kingdom does not appear on any map lying around. No, because it’s in a special land existing between two countries, one called Germany and one known as France.

Right on the two countries’ border, Never, Never Land ... no, not the place you know... It is by the second star to the right and straight on ‘till morning... wait, no....

It is in a twilight place where some individuals twinkle... a zone of twilight. Damn, all the best names are taken.

Anyway, in the land itself, they call it Disenchanted, or the Kingdom of Disenchanted. Long, long ago, it was Enchanted; but everyone becomes disillusioned at some point.

Gaining admittance to this land is difficult at best. You must know a fairy, an elf, or a dwarf who has access to the land. They may be able to secure a special Right of Entry Visa granted by the Fairy Queen, or perhaps the Elf King. I suppose if one was well acquainted with an ogre, he might acquire one for the right price. It is unlikely a bad witch would help you. Unless, of course, you fit into some evil plan she had. But the price would be kite-high. Which wouldn’t have a ‘haply ever after’ ending.

Oh, puppy dog tales! I still haven’t begun this in the proper manner! I continue to twaddle on with no appropriate beginning. Please, I beg of you, do not dismiss this story and fail to continue reading because I left out the magical beginning. In fact, I shall back up at once and start this in the correct way. I don’t wish to offend anyone. Here we go.

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, lived an evil Queen.

Disenchanted was a Kingdom not unlike many other Kingdoms. For I suppose many Kingdoms are filled with evil Queens, kind, lecherous kings, and poor adopted stepdaughters. In our tale, the adopted daughter was not the object of our Evil Queen’s hate. At least at first.

In fact, they were best friends. Thick as thieves. Closer than blood, as they say. Okay, I have to ask— do you have the picture, or do I need to keep spouting these antiquated, outdated, and archaic phrases?

However, for this to be a Fairytale, all this warm, fuzzy love between adopted daughter and the Evil Queen must end. So, all will change.

Did you catch it in the early paragraph I said the same thing three different ways? It is a literary trick used by some writers to place the reader in a state of hypnosis.

It worked. Now you’re in a trance.

I’ve read stories where you are compelled to turn the page. Or you feel a great need to move on to the next paragraph. It fills you with a deep desire to read the next chapter.

Okay, not working, is it? Damn. I never can manage it quite right.

So let’s start at the very beginning. It’s a very good place to start.

Long ago (well, 18 years ago), the King and his first wife, saintly Queen Esmeralda, adopted a little girl whom they named Penny. The Kingdom rejoiced with the King and Queen, and parties and wild orgies took place all over the Kingdom.

Wild sex parties were a common occurrence in Disenchanted. I mean, it’s what they do. The King has a birthday; wild sex party time. The Queen had a new doo. Any of the Queens, take your pick. Wild sex party time. Adopt a child into the Royal family; lots and lots of wild sex parties!

King Arnold, yes, Arnold, was a happy King. I know, Arnold isn’t a sexy Fairyland type of name. Hey, what can you do? He was a bodybuilder, so what else would you call him? I digress.

Where was I ... Oh, yes, now I remember. Sadly, this happy time for the King and his wife, Queen Esmeralda, was not to last.

Poor Queen Esmeralda fell quite ill one day, coincidentally during a visit from her sister Violeta. When I said ‘poor’ Esmeralda, I was not referring to ‘poor’ in a material way, but in a metaphysical, metaphorical way. Her being a poor spirit is less important than the fact was, she got ill. Who knew one apple could do so much damage? You try your best to keep the doctor away, and what happens? You get sick.

How ironic? She was so ill, within a few minutes, she died. Which is about as sick as one can be.

The Queen’s death was rather a sudden death, for Disenchanted. I mean, you eat an apple and twelve minutes and seven seconds later, you’re dead as the proverbial doornail. Her eyes stared up at the canopies with a strange dead haze over them, while sister dearest asked,

“Don’t you feel well, Esme?”

It was fast. I can’t help but wonder if Esmeralda was happy with the canopies or not. The reason for my wonder will become crystal clear in a few pages. I must remember not to rush ahead of myself.

While Queen Esmeralda’s death was fast, some were swifter deaths in Disenchanted. Take the woodcutter who accidentally cut off his own head while he chopped wood. His wife swears it was only four seconds from start to finish. Can you imagine it, only four seconds from the time the axe flew into the air and attacked him until he lay dead on the ground? Dead eyes looking at his wife from his disembodied head, mouth moving as if to say, “But I did love you, dear. The elf girl didn’t mean a thing.”

Then we have Tiny Fairy Cherry. That has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?

Yes, um, Tiny Fairy Cherry is of the Minikin line of fairies, just like Tink. Oh, come on, you know Tink. She lives in a fairy world with Peter and the Lost Boys. But again, another story.

Well, Tiny Fairy Cherry’s death was as sudden as the lightning before the thunder. More sudden than that. Almost as fast as the split second between when you think of the inappropriate comment and it tumbles from your mouth, hanging in the air for everyone around to catch. “She’s young enough to be his granddaughter!”

So, let’s put this train back on the tracks, here with Cherry’s death. Tiny Fairy Cherry and Chester the Giant had a standing dinner date at The Mugs and Jugs Pub. Please, don’t ask me to explain the combination of food establishment, drinking emporium, and stripper palace, as I can’t.

The worst thing about the place, or so I am told, is Edna the Ogre Bitch dancer with her three saggy breasts and H cups to boot. That is definitely another story.

Chester and Cherry always met and ate together on Tuesday nights. They called it Tiny and Large Tuesdays, and it was a copyrighted and trademarked slogan of Chester and Cherry, not to be used without permission.

Sorry, I am required to say it anytime I mention their story.

This particular Tuesday night was no exception, and whilst I am unsure of the joke Cherry told Chester, I am assured it was quite dirt