by Chris Colfer
It was a lot of work getting rid of them, but thankfully the fairies and I managed. Since then, we’ve tried restoring some sense into the kingdoms. But I can’t help wondering if getting rid of the dragons was a good idea. Things have become so dull I’m starting to go stir-crazy!
Obviously I don’t miss getting burned by their breath or whipped by their tails or the constant pandemonium they caused, but at least we had some fun slaying them! Sure, it was a dangerous and scary time, but it was stimulating. Not to mention all the money I made from wrestling the smaller ones in sold-out arenas.
Nowadays, we’re so hit up for entertainment we obsess over every ditz who needs a rescue or a makeover. First it was Cinderella, then Sleeping Beauty was all anyone could talk about, next Snow White came onto the scene, and now it’s some girl named Rapunzel’s turn in the spotlight. I can barely keep track of them! You’d think the Charming brothers were in a competition to find and marry the neediest woman.
By the way, who is naming these people? Snow White is not a name, that’s a description! Cinderella is just cruel and Rapunzel sounds like something that happens to fruit when it’s left in the sun. Do famous people name their kids ridiculous things just to tick off the rest of us?
It’s not just the damsels in distress that are all the rage. Have you noticed every village idiot with a quirk becomes national news? Jack and Jill fell down a hill—so what? Little Bo Peep lost her sheep—how is that my problem? Hickory, dickory, dock, the mouse ran up the clock—call pest control, not me!
We’re inherently teaching our children that the bigger a numbskull you are, the more attention you’ll get. In my day, it was the knights in shining armor and the valiant leaders who got the respect. You actually had to do something significant to earn notoriety. Just because times are simpler now doesn’t mean we should celebrate every moron under the sun!
The Fairy Godmother tells us we’ve entered a “Golden Age.” I say we’ve entered a “snooze fest.” Everything is so peaceful and happy it’s driving me nuts. Too much smiling can’t be good for the soul. And if I hear one more schmuck say the phrase happily ever after I’m going to beat them with the heel of my buckled shoe. Who came up with that? And why do we have to say it at the end of everything?
The phrase was so catchy, the Fairy Godmother established the Happily Ever After Assembly with the Fairy Council and the current kings and queens of the kingdoms. I wanted nothing to do with it, but she insisted I join. Now I’m expected to contribute to the progress and prosperity of our world, when I’d rather just mock it from afar.
I’m not sure why she wanted me around, but I owe the Fairy Godmother one. I’ve felt terrible ever since I turned down the chance to be her apprentice. I’ve never met someone who cares so genuinely about making life better for the people and creatures in our world than the Fairy Godmother—I could never fill her shoes!
The Fairy Godmother’s a great gal and an excellent friend. We’ve been close since we were kids. We’re always there for each other, through thick and thin. I held her hand when she gave birth to both of her sons, and provided a shoulder to cry on when her husband died. In return, she’s always posted my bail and testified as a character witness—you don’t get closer than that!
The Fairy Godmother has always seen something in me that no one, including myself, has seen before. Despite all my mistakes and bad habits that the other fairies are so quick to berate me for, the Fairy Godmother defends me and has my back. She says I bring a lot of good into the world, whether I believe it or not. I just hope I never disappoint her.
Once again, she was the only person who remembered it was my two hundredth birthday today. She made a huge obnoxious cake like she does every year. There were so many candles, it almost set the Fairy Palace on fire. I suppose it’s sweet of her, but no woman wants to be reminded they’re two centuries old. Maybe that’s why I woke up so grumpy?
Well, I’ve got to do something before my bad mood becomes permanent. I just need a change of pace, a change of scenery, and definitely a change of people! Unfortunately, that isn’t likely to happen anytime soon. I better find something to do with my time or I’m going to be in trouble.
Maybe I’ll start up a hobby. Does ale tasting or gambling count? I want to start with something I’m good at.
5 GA (GOLDEN AGE)
Dear Diary,
Well, gambling didn’t help matters. Now on top of being annoyed by everyone around me, I owe most of them money, too. I’ve lost practically all the earnings from my wrestling days. I tried to start a comeback by wrestling unicorns, but it didn’t have the same draw that the dragons had. No one wants to pay admission to see an old lady put a snooty horse in a headlock.
I did manage to score one good win in a card game last week—a golden egg! Now, as everyone knows, golden eggs are usually made of solid gold. But if you’re lucky, it’ll be fertilized! Which means a magic goose will hatch that lays golden eggs!
As luck would have it, on my way home from the card game I felt something moving inside the egg! It was definitely fertilized! I was going to be rich! I’d never have to worry about gambling debts again! Finally, after helping so many idiots achieve a happily-ever-after, I was going to get my own!
I was terribly paranoid that something would happen to the little zygote, so I made it as comfortable as possible until it was ready to hatch. I carefully wrapped it in blankets and rested it by the fireplace to stay warm. I even cradled it and sang soothing songs to it. (Actually, I don’t have a good singing voice, so it probably thought it was on a sinking ship.)
Eventually, the little chick started pecking at the shell. This was it! With every piece it chucked away I thought of another extravagant purchase I was going to make with its future eggs. A beach house in Mermaid Bay, a country estate in the Charming Kingdom, a cabin in the Dwarf Forests—the possibilities were endless!
Unfortunately, wealth wasn’t in my immediate future after all. A gander hatched out of the egg! That’s right—a useless male goose! I could kiss my expensive dreams good-bye.
I thought I was disappointed to see him, but you should have seen the look he gave me! The goose looked me up and down and shook his head judgmentally. He squawked at me, and although I’m not as fluent in bird as I am in other animal dialects, I could have sworn he said, “No, this isn’t right. You can’t possibly be my mother.”
“You think you’re disappointed? You were supposed to be my retirement fund! Now what am I supposed to do with you?” I said.
The gander eyed my stomach and squawked again, as if to say, “Judging by your midsection, I’m afraid to ask.”
“I’m not going to eat you, smart aleck,” I said. “You look far too gamey for my taste. I might get the runs just from looking at you!”
His beak dropped open as if it was the most offensive thing he had ever heard—and I had to remind myself that it probably was, since he was only a minute old.
He squawked again and headed for the door as if to say, “I just hatched out of a golden egg! I will not put up with this treatment.”
“Don’t let the door hit your tail feathers on the way out!” I yelled after him. “Good luck lasting outside! There are plenty of hungry creatures in the woods that would love a gamey snack!”
The gander slammed the door and left my house. He was surprisingly strong for an infant. I didn’t let it upset me, though. It takes more than a feathered tantrum to grind my gears.
I poured myself a glass of bubbly and cozied up in my favorite rocking chair. I was looking forward to a nice quiet night alone, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the little guy.
What had I done? He wasn’t even an hour old yet and I let him waddle into a forest with no protection. I couldn’t just sit there—I had to find him! I just hoped it wasn’t too late.
I ran outside into the woods with a lantern raised above my head. Thankfully, it had snowed the night before, so I was able to follow his tiny webbed footprints into the forest. I found the lit
tle bugger standing in a clearing in the middle of the woods. Thankfully, he was alive… but he wasn’t alone!
A giant wolf with matted black fur and red eyes was walking in circles around him. The poor goose was trembling and, from the way he covered the nostrils on his beak, I’m assuming the wolf had terrible breath.
“Poor, poor little birdy,” the wolf said. “All alone in the woods without a father or mother goose to protect him. Do you know what happens to little goslings when they’re all by themselves?”
The wolf grinned, exposing his sharp, pointy teeth. The little gander squawked, as if to say, “I seriously regret asking you for directions.”
“Hey! Get away from him!” I demanded.
“Who are you?” the wolf asked.
“Consider me the mother goose!” I said. “And I don’t like the way you’re taunting my kid.”
“Your kid?” the wolf laughed, not intimidated by me in the slightest. “Silly old woman! Go knit something before you become dessert.”
Knit something? Old woman? Clearly this mutt had a death wish.
“I’m not the knitting type, pup,” I said and pulled up my sleeve to show him my forearm. “Do you see this scar? I got it from wrestling a dragon three times your size—and that was for fun! So unless you want me to knock all the teeth out of your ugly muzzle, I suggest you find a nice fruit salad to prey on and leave my goose alone!”
The wolf growled at me and then ran into the trees, leaving the gander and me alone for good. The gander sighed with relief and there was a thankful twinkle in his eyes. He waddled up to my feet and squawked at me, as if to say, “Mother Goose, huh?”
I never would have considered myself the maternal type, but it did have a nice ring to it. I figured if I was going to adopt, I’d better do it in my early two hundreds while I was still vital. Besides, the goose’s options were limited.
“I’m probably the best mother you’re going to get around here. I doubt anything else is going to tolerate you long enough to take care of you.”
The gander shrugged. Even he couldn’t deny he was a pain in the backside.
“So what are we going to call you, mister?”
He squawked again. “What about Enrique Rodriguez?”
“I like Lester,” I said. “I promised an old tavern buddy I would name my firstborn after him. I think you’re the closest thing I’ll ever get to that.”
The gander rolled his eyes and sighed. “Fine,” he squawked. “Lester it is—can we go inside now? No one told me outside was going to be so cold.”
Over the last week, Lester and I have gotten to know each other and are slowly getting used to living together. We’ve had all the conversations new roommates typically have, like Don’t leave your feathers in the sink, No regurgitating at the table, and The floor is not a toilet (he’s not the first roommate I’ve had these conversations with, but that’s a long story). It’s been challenging, but I think we’ll iron out all the kinks in time.
Mother Goose has really grown on me, too. Everyone on the Happily Ever After Assembly thinks it’s adorable that I’m taking care of Lester, so my new nickname is the only thing they address me by anymore.
It’s a good thing, too, because with all my recent gambling debts, I needed a new name.…
7 GA
Dear Diary,
Things haven’t been great between Lester and me lately. We’re constantly arguing about how he needs to do something with his life, but there’s not an ounce of ambition in his hollow bones. All he does is sit at home and eat junk food all day while I’m at work. He’s gotten so fat he’s practically the size of a horse. So, I decided to use him like a horse!
For years, my main method of transportation has been magical teleportation, and I’ve never been good at it. I always end up inside a wall or a cabinet—especially when I have a hangover. So, one afternoon I brought home reins and a saddle and strapped up m’gander! I was going to make use of him if it killed me.
Lester wasn’t thrilled by the idea. He had one look at himself in the mirror and shook his head. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he squawked.
“Come on, let’s do a test flight before the winds change!”
Our first takeoff was pretty easy. Lester insisted he needed a running start with my added weight, but I think he was being difficult on purpose. Turns out Lester is a decent flyer, although I would never tell him that because it would go straight to his head. He didn’t take directions well, so I just jerked on the reins until he listened. I’m surprised they didn’t break off.
Believe it or not, Lester’s not the first winged creature I’ve piloted. During the Dragon Age, I used to fly a dragon named Schnapps. Boy was he ugly! He had the face of a boar, wings like a bat, the body of a salamander, and the temper of a wet cat. I had to give him up after he ate one of my coworkers—you know, workplace politics.
I had forgotten how wonderful it felt to fly. The best part of riding Lester was that everyone looking up from below just thought he was a regular bird in the sky. They had no idea this wacky old lady was riding on his back. This will be useful the next time a bounty hunter is tailing me.
Landing was not Lester’s strong suit. After our first flight, he hit the ground so hard I was thrown off his back and somersaulted through a muddy strip of land. I think it was calculated on his part. I’ve never heard a goose laugh so hard.
Our second landing was even worse! We crashed into the roof of a schoolhouse, terrifying and emotionally scarring two dozen schoolchildren. It was a mess! There were feathers and pencils everywhere. I’ve been getting nasty letters from their parents all week. I’m sure we’ll get blamed for every issue their children have in the future.
We’ve had a rocky start, but we’ll get the hang of it!
10 GA
Dear Diary,
What a day! I thought Humpty Dumpty’s death was going to be the biggest shock of my year, but boy was I wrong. The Fairy Council and I finally found out why the Fairy Godmother has been acting so strange lately—and it’s a doozy!
It all started when she called an impromptu assembly meeting at the Fairy Palace. I begrudgingly got out of bed and dragged Lester out of his, and off we went. We flew to the palace, landed on the mattress the fairies placed in the garden for us, and met the other fairies in the great hall.
Usually she only calls us there when something wonderful has happened we all need to know about, so I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be there.
“Well, what is it this time?” I asked them. “Let me guess, Suzie Daffodil was rescued from a tower by Prince Bright Teeth? Or did Johnnie Alibi finally find his herd of scapegoats?”
“We don’t know,” Emerelda said. “We’re still waiting for the Fairy Godmother to arrive.”
That wasn’t a surprise. The Fairy Godmother had been late or absent to all the assembly meetings that month. On the rare occasions we saw her, she always came in a huff and left in a hurry. Like I said, we knew something was wrong, but no one could get ahold of her long enough to ask what was going on.
A quick gust of sparkling wind blew into the great hall and the Fairy Godmother appeared. She always arrives in style, I’ll give her that.
“Sorry I’m late!” she apologized. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”
Her cheeks were rosy and she was out of breath. She looked exactly like she used to after a long night of dancing when we were teenagers.
“Is everything all right, Fairy Godmother?” Xanthous asked. “You seem a little… distressed.”
“Well, distressed isn’t the word I would use,” she said. “I have something I need to tell you. It’ll be hard to believe at first, but it’ll explain why I haven’t been myself lately.”
“I know what it is,” I said with a sly grin. “You got a boyfriend!”
“What?” everyone said in unison, as if I had said something offensive.
“Oh, come on,” I said. “She’s old, not dead! Lots of men are dating older women these days.
Besides, this is exactly how she acted when she met her late husband.”
“Um… no, Mother Goose,” the Fairy Godmother said. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“It’s okay, FG,” I said, trying to coax it out of her. “No one here is going to judge you! Your husband has been dead for years—it’s perfectly acceptable to move on. Just tell us who he is! Is it King White? The Shoemaker? The Traveling Tradesman? Like I said, no judgments!”
It was obvious from the look she was giving me that a boyfriend hadn’t been distracting her. It was something else entirely of a very serious nature. What a shame; I was hoping her boyfriend would have a friend.
“I’ve discovered another dimension,” the Fairy Godmother blurted out.
Everyone in the room gasped. Lester let out a prolonged squawk. I started laughing but quickly stopped when I realized she wasn’t joking.
“Another dimension?” Skylene asked.
“You must be joking!” Tangerina said.
“How is that possible?” Rosette said.
“I don’t know, but I assure you it’s real,” the Fairy Godmother said.
At first, I was convinced she was hitting the pixie dust. She couldn’t have actually discovered another dimension! That’s crazier than a chicken with its feet glued to the ground! But being late and absent was one thing; exaggerating the truth was something the Fairy Godmother never did.
“How did you discover it?” Emerelda asked.
“Well… it was shortly after Cinderella’s wedding,” the Fairy Godmother explained. “After seeing how much a little magic changed her life, I was inspired to help people more than ever. So, I decided to cast a spell that would take me to whomever needed magic the most. I waved my wand over my body, and the next thing I knew, I was someplace no one from our world had ever been before.”
