Fairy Tales for Grownups

ONE UNFORTUNATE MORNING

Once upon a time a beautiful Princess fell in love with a handsome Prince.  Naturally it was love at first sight: the second their eyes met, she knew that he was The One.  Few short months later they married and moved into Prince’s opulent castle where they lived happily for about a week.  

Then one unfortunate morning Princess woke up and looked at her young husband’s golden locks in skew rays of the sun.  She leaned towards him and brushed his hair tenderly.  At that moment a plump pillow was pressing against her ribcage which didn’t agree with delicious chilly from the night before.  Suddenly, she heard a loud fart echo through the room.  Terrified, Princess glanced at Prince: what would become of their tender love if he witnessed her shame?  He compared her to bodiless goddess and  ethereal sprite - there was no way her bloating colon could be a part of that image.  But luckily her husband was fast asleep.  She made a pledge not to touch chilly ever again.  

Few hours later, when the young couple had finally risen to greet the new day, breakfast was served on the terrace.  The air was filled with birds’ tweets and beetles’ hum, but Princess, still spooked by her prior faux pas, could hardly enjoy this merry cacophony of summer.  She was trying hard to concentrate on her ladylike manners.  Prince, completely oblivious of his wife’s state of mind, gobbled down his hard-boiled egg and chased it with a big gulp of coffee - and apparently much air as well: immediately he produced a roaring belch.  Princess gazed across the table shattered: disgusting bodily functions didn’t quite work with her perception of her husband as a knight in shining armor either, and there was nothing else yet to base her admiration upon.  The crystal castle of her infatuation went crumbling down…

Burdened with guilt about superficiality of her drama, yet unable to restore her affection, Princess passed the days now weeping bitterly in a distant corner of the garden.  Concerned Prince invited his wife’s beloved Fairy Godmother in an attempt to cheer her up.  The elderly woman attended to the poor girl’s tears as soon as she arrived.  Upon hearing the sad story, she smiled at her young Goddaughter and offered her hallmark shrewd advice.  ”My dear child!” she said, “You’re saddened that the magic is gone, but any professional Fairy will tell you that there is no magic in love.  Nobody is The One for anyone, but anybody can become one. Weave the fabric of your fondness with threads of sobriety, forgiveness and endless compromise - and your love will grow with years spent together.  It is the only way to be happy without being delusional!”

A-B-C

Once upon a time beautiful Princess A got engaged to Price Faithful.  The prince was known to be  a very trustworthy companion, he never took any interest in other princesses.  It needs to be added though that he didn’t take much interest in his own fiancée either.  Our prince had very low libido, which might or might not have had to do with his tiny testicles, hairless body and generally fragile features.  He performed his sexual duties diligently but reluctantly once a week, if specifically requested.  

However Princess A was happy with the arrangement.  The thing is that at the tender age of fifteen she had been betrothed to another man - a brave, if a little reckless young knight by the name of Leo.  He was a fierce warrior and a passionate lover.  He would keep adolescent princess up till dawn’s break, mingling fervent lovemaking with reciting sentimental poetry.

Unfortunately, several days after the coming wedding had been announced, one of the regal heralds brought a bad news.  Apparently Sir Leo’s ardent disposition had spread far beyond the kingdom’s boarders: his liaisons with Princess B of X-wood and Princess C of Y-shire were revealed.  Before long it had become a matter of public knowledge and the ceremony was called off.  The rumor had it that the list of Leo’s conquests exceeded the official version many a time: more than half of the alphabet had been passed, the shameless gossipers insisted.

Princess A was devastated.  For days she wrung her hands and questioned justness of fate.  Eventually, her beloved Godmother explained it to naive young princess that there was a direct correlation between men’s sexual appetite and their anticipated fidelity.  After initial disbelief had faded, Princess A made a decision: she would only marry a man whose lust was bounded by scant stamina. Hence Prince Faithful emerged on the horizon. (Of course being a young woman of great resourcefulness and bountiful sensuality, she never ruled out a possibility of getting a lover, but that is the beginning of another story.)

THE TALE ABOUT MORAL SUPERIORITY

Once upon a time in a land not so far away lived a princess by the name of Moral Superiority.  As a schoolgirl she had not been particularly pretty and princes tended not to like her.  Moral Superiority was hurt by the lack of attention and complained about it to her mom, Queen Righteousness.  In hope to soothe her daughter, the Queen told the young Princess that boys were shallow and juvenile, blind to the true beauty of her soul.  But that one day a special prince would appear in her life, the one equipped with wisdom, humility and a unique soul-vision device.

So the young Moral Superiority had agreed that it was worth to wait and a better – true – kind of happiness would be given unto her.  She would recognize it immediately because, according to her mother, it would feel “right”.

Years had passed and the Princess met a guy.  Not that it felt exceptionally right, but it definitely didn’t feel wrong.  He had dated only one girl before and he wrote poems.  His name was Euthanasia.  They married the same year in their parents’ garden – the whole church of the Kingdom was there.  After the ceremony they had a huge potluck.

More time had flown by and one dreary day the Prince’s mother, the Duchess Tight-Ass of Sweet-River-Town, fell off her horse during the annual royal foxhunt.  That year Euthanasia and Moral Superiority just finished paying off bank loan for their daughter’s orthodontic work – the young girl had been consistently ridiculed in school and her farther insisted that something had to be done about it.  So being charged several monthly salaries a day for Emergency Care Unit was rather straining – but of course they’d find the money.  The thing was, however, that Mother Duchess had happened to break her spine: her brain was dead; the Kingdom’s famed neurologists compared her state to that of a mushroom.

The Prince had never done what his mother would disapprove of, but he also had never any decision making to do: it was specifically explained to him what was right.  In this dreadful situation Prince Euthanasia was completely lost: the most important decision of his life he had to make on his own.

At first, Princess Moral Superiority had announced at the urgent family reunion that they would never “pull the plug”.  The announcement was met with a cascade of approving nods.  But a few days later things changed dramatically: the body of what was once the old Duchess started to fail and required expensive surgeries.  The doctor insisted that there was no hope whatsoever and that extravagant procedures would be performed on a vegetable, not the old lady they once used to hate.  Moral Superiority passionately advocated the power of prayer.  On the third hour of the argument between the two, the baffled prince surprised everybody including himself by stating in a squeaky falsetto his decision to end his mother’s life.  Moral Superiority was stunned: she had never expected such a betrayal.  Euthanasia tried to explain that this matter in no way undermined his wife’s unquestionable moral superiority; that it was his mother; that the prideful broad would do it herself, given half a chance; and that it was something they could not afford, for god’s sake!  It was of no use.   The Princess’ position was unbendable: he would lose her over anything immoral.

…After the old Duchess had been buried, Moral Superiority moved out.  Now the prince was entitled to child support on top of the funeral and medical bills.  He started drinking and a year later declared bankruptcy.  She unsuccessfully attempted dating again and often told her friends at the club that she’d been lucky to get rid of him.  And so they lived: separately, unhappily, but quite ever after…

The moral of this story, kids, is a simple one.  Judgmental assholes who believe in their moral superiority over others usually wind up alone.  But in their attempt to “teach a lesson”, they usually ruin more than just their own life.  

EVERY LITTLE PRINCESS NEEDS A PRINCE

Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, lived a little girl by the name of Anna.  Anna was a princess.  Like every real princess she wore pretty dresses and played piano.  And like every real princess she was waiting for her prince.  For Anna it was a matter of life and death: having one’s own prince has been one of the required elements of Princessship since the dawn of times. 

However during that particular century the Kingdom suffered from the seasonal shortage of princes.  For what constituted a True Prince?  Well, first of all, it was – of course – a horse.  Preferably a white one.  Then your regular prince had to have a few golden coins, he had to be handsome (or in the very least – charming) and possess a large penis.  Let’s summarize: hooves, dough, looks, dick.  Oh yeah: also princes came equipped with kindness, sense of humor and love for kids.  And they were smart and adventurous.

Needless to say, without a kick-ass Fairy Godmother or half a dozen of gnomes, the odds of obtaining a “legit” prince were pretty slim.  So many of the little princesses only claimed that their princes were real.  In the living rooms of their fellow princesses, over tea and cookies they lied about their husbands.  Some exaggerated their wealth.  (For instance, Anna knew that Princess Anastasia’s diamonds were mostly fake).  Other princesses pretended not to notice that the transformation of their pet frogs into princes did not go all that smoothly or tried to play cool about it.  (So Princess Elizabeth told Anna on numerous occasions that she had a fetish for bald, fat middle-aged millionaires.) 

But when Anna finally got herself a prince, he had no flaws: he was tall and fit and gorgeous, had buttocks of steal and dental work of porcelain.  Besides, he was about to inherit a Swiss bank and a German horse-drawn-carriage plant.  They were believed to be the Kingdom’s most glamorous couple and all other little princesses were green with envy.

What princess Anna didn’t share at the tea parties was this: the Prince’s dick, even though fully functional, was of upsettingly small size.  In the beginning of their marriage Princess Anna was utterly dismayed by this fact.  That is until she met a local blacksmith.  On one of the mornings, horny and dissatisfied, she was taking a horseback ride through her vast mansion.  She was passing the village when her beautiful black stallion went limping, so she had to take him to the smith by the name of Jack.  Jack was dirty, sweaty and smelled of horses, but he got the stallion’s shoe fixed.  Also Jack had a huge hammer, which made Princess Anna sigh dreamingly as he was working on the beast’s hind hoof.

Since that day Anna’s horse had encountered obscure ditches and chipped cobblestones many a time.  About the same period her Prince has developed a surprising liking for Cuban cigars – an inclination that his wife could neither appreciate, nor understand.  Fortunately, his butler by the name of Simon was a man of distinguished manors and fine taste in clothing; he also enjoyed a good cigar.  During long evenings he kept his master company.  Almost every day after dinner the two men would retire to a library where the finest bearskins were cozily illuminated by the warm glow of the fireplace.  There, as Anna well knew, they held intelligent conversations and drank expensive whisky, often long past Anna’s bedtime.

The moral of this story, kids, is a simple one.  Because Princess Anna had been politely overseeing the fact that her husband was a fag and because the Prince had nonchalantly discarded the idea that his wife was a hopeless nympho – they lived happily ever after.

The End. 

The Neverending Story

Once upon a time, long-long ago, some chatty chap (May he never find peace in his grave!) recited the very first fairy-tale in the history of the planet.  Apparently it had a prince and a princess; or a girl and a boy; or a beauty and a beast - a character with a penis and a character with a vagina.  We won’t be guessing about irrelevant details of the plot, but it’s safe to assume that  it ended something like this: “…they married and lived happily ever after.”  

And so it began: the neverending story of every little girl wholeheartedly believing that “happily” comes only “after” and lasts for”ever”.

It’s time for a new kind of fairy tales: the real, grownup stuff!