WARNING! Fairy Tales

by Robert Thier

  With a roar that shook the walls, the dwarf army stormed the palace, hacking everything in their path to bits: furniture, soldiers, servants, walls, and one unfortunate pet weasel. Soon, the entire building was in the firm hands of the dwarf clans, and Coal Black was sitting on her ancestral throne, stroking her red beard.

  The Evil Queen was brought in, wearing custom-made dwarfish chains (guaranteed unbreakable, with three hundred years warranty or your money back).

  “So,” mused Coal Black. “You’re my mother, are you?”

  The Queen’s eyes bugged. “You? You are supposed to be more beautiful than me?”

  “I wonder, do human mothers usually try to kill their children?”

  “You have a beard! You have a fucking beard!”

  Coal Black sighed. “Never mind. Take her away.”

  One of the dwarf guards bowed respectfully. “What shall we do with her, Your Majesty?”

  “Oh, I think forced labor in the mines would be the right thing for her. I know a coal mine around here which will be a few workers short in the future.”

  “As you wish, Your Majesty!”

  They began to drag the Evil Ex-Queen away.

  “You can’t do this, you rats! You vermin! I’m the Queen! I’m the fairest in all the land! I’m…”

  Some intelligent dwarf whacked her over the head with the butt of his axe.

  Coal Black turned to the chancellor, who was kneeling beside the throne, an axe at his neck and a dwarf at the other end of the axe.

  “Your chances of remaining in royal service depend very much on your answer to my next question. So, listen carefully, my man, all right?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Where is the beer in this place?”

  “Inthecellarthreedoorstotheleftdownthestairsanddownthecorridortotheright! There’sasmuchalethereasyoucouldwant! Enoughforanarmy!”

  “Funny you should say that.” Grinning, Coal Black nodded to her army, or at least to the part of it that fit into the throne room. “You heard the man, boys—let’s have fun!”

  And, for the next three days, Coal Black lived very, very happily. The day after that, she lived not quite so happily because of her gigantic hangover. But, when that was gone, she lived very happily again, and, if she didn’t die, she is still killing goblins and quaffing beer.

  And the moral of the story is: if you want to be the most beautiful girl in the world, wear a huge, fake beard, preferably red.

  Or, another moral is: always eat meat, not apples.

  Or, yet another alternative moral: magic mirrors and many more magnificent magic items are available at Tinkerbell & Sons, 23 Fantasia Street, Fairyland. Tinkerbell™ - Magic Your Life Magnificent!

  The last one actually wasn’t a moral but an advertisement, in case you didn’t notice.

  Golden Girl and Firebreath

  Once upon a time, in a faraway enchanted kingdom, there lived a wicked stepmother. As stepmothers usually do (especially the wicked variety), this stepmother had a stepdaughter: a girl who was more beautiful and good and kind than any other living being on earth.

  The young girl didn’t really mind being beautiful. In fact, she quite enjoyed the admiring glances of the neighborhood boys. But being this good and kind was a real pain in the ass for her! It meant she more or less had to say “Yes, thank you” to every order of her ghastly stepmother. You can’t be good and kind and go around saying things like “Stick it where the sun doesn’t shine, you nasty old hag!”

  “Is she not the best and kindest and most beautiful creature in all the world?” the father said to the stepmother one day.

  And the stepmother nodded, smiling evilly. “Yes, indeed she is.”

  And then she ordered the stepdaughter to clean the stables, scrub the floors, and wash the dishes. For a moment, the stepdaughter considered cleaning the stables using her stepmother’s stiff corpse for a broomstick. But, as a fairytale stepdaughter, she had to be good and kind, after all, so instead she said, “Yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am.”

  Now, besides her stepdaughter, the stepmother also had a daughter of her own. She was younger than her stepsister, and quite different—a wild, raven-haired little thing that never had to do any work around the house. Not only because the stepmother treated her as a favorite, but because, unlike her beautiful and kind stepsister, the feisty little girl had no qualms whatsoever about flipping her mother the bird.

  One might have suspected that this inequality would make the two stepsisters hate each other. On the contrary, however, there could not have been two sisters that were closer. The beautiful, blond, kind, and graceful stepdaughter helped the other girl with her makeup and dress whenever there was a dance in the village, and the wild, dark-haired daughter defended her stepsister whenever her evil mother got particularly nasty. Sometimes, the younger girl would even help with the washing up—without her mother getting to hear of it, of course! A girl has to have her pride.

  “You shouldn’t always let her order you around like that!” protested the younger girl one day, giving her stepsister a look. “Why don’t you just tell her to go and boil her head?”

  “Because that wouldn’t be kind,” the beautiful, blond girl pointed out.

  “Oh yeah? Well, I say f—“ (and here, the younger girl used a very bad word that is not suitable for fairy tales) “—ck being kind!”

  “Shame on you! You shouldn’t even think such words, let alone say them!”

  “Really?” The younger girl grinned. “F—”

  “Please! No! I will finish washing all the dishes alone, just don’t say that word!”

  The younger girl’s grin widened. “Heck, this could be useful! But don’t worry.” She patted her stepsister’s back. “I’m going to stay until we’re finished.”

  Thus, throughout their childhood, no matter how different they were, the two stepsisters were close to each other. In fact, they were real sisters to each other, though they never mentioned that in hearing distance of the evil stepmother.

  One day, the stepmother sent her stepdaughter to the well to fetch water. And the stepdaughter, kind and amiable as she was, took up the empty pitcher without a single word of protest and walked the seventy-six miles to the well. Somewhere in the middle, she did wonder once why her stepmother had sent her to the well when there was a perfectly good river right next to the house, but such thoughts never lingered long in the tiny space in her mind that was reserved for suspicious thoughts.

  A long, long, long time later, she reached the well, where she immediately filled her pitcher full of water. She was just about to start on her way back when an old woman emerged from the forest, limping towards the well.

  “Child,” the old woman croaked, “will you give me a drink from your pitcher of water? For I am a feeble old woman, and do not have the strength to turn the handle of the well.”

  “Why, of course, grandmother,” said the young girl with a beautiful smile and held the pitcher so the old woman could drink from it easily. “Here you go.”

  The old woman satisfied her thirst. When she was done, she looked up at the girl with the gleam of magic in her eyes. For the old woman was really a fairy, who, because she had nothing better to do with her immortality, had wanted to find out whether humans were polite to old people.

  “For thy kindness, I shall reward thee,” the fairy said. “Henceforth, you shall be the most beautiful maiden in all the lands.”

  At those words, a plastic surgeon stuck his head out from behind a nearby tree. “Someone called?”

  “But…” the girl hesitated. She did not want to be rude to this nice old woman.

  “But what?” the fairy snapped. “My magnificent magical gift isn’t good enough for you, is it?”

  “It’s not that,” the girl assured her hurriedly. “It’s just that I already am the most beautiful maiden in all the lands. At least, I won the beauty pageant in the town for the past three years in a row, and I am the frontrunner for this year’s Miss Fairyland.�
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  Disappointed, the plastic surgeon withdrew into the woods again.

  The fairy squinted up at the girl. “Really? Drat! That’s the problem when you turn yourself into an old woman—you get the eyesight of a mole and a hump like a camel! Next time, I’m turning myself into a strong, handsome, young knight!”

  The girl didn’t really understand what the heck the old woman was talking about, but she was too kind and polite to say so and kept silent.

  “Well, then, well then,” the old woman murmured. “We’ll have to think of another magical gift for you.” She fell silent for a few moments. Then, nodding firmly, she raised herself to her full height. “For thy kindness, I shall reward thee! And this time, you’ll take my reward whether you damn well like it or not! Henceforth, whenever you open your mouth, with every word, a precious jewel, or a pearl, or coins of gleaming gold shall fall from your mouth.”

  A beautiful smile spread over the features of the girl. That sounded like a wonderful talent! A truly splendid magical gift!

  “Really?” she exclaimed. “That is…umpf! Ugl!”

  And she coughed up one pearl, one sapphire, and five coins of gold.

  “There, you see?” the fairy said contentedly. “As fine a piece of magic as ever I saw. You’re very lucky, girl, you know that? Many people would kill, steal, and commit treason for a gift like that. I did you a tremendous favor—probably the most tremendous favor anyone is ever going to do for you in your entire life!” She raised an eyebrow suggestively. “But no need to thank me or anything.”

  “Of course there is!” the girl said, grasping the old woman by the hand. “I thank y—Ng! Pfff! Mpf!”

  Three pearls, a diamond, and a small heap of gold coins landed on the forest floor.

  The girl took a deep breath. “What I meant to say was…rrrg! Mpf! Pfft!”

  Four jewels, a pearl, and another small heap of coins clattered onto the small pile of valuables that had already begun to gather in front of the girl’s feet.

  “Ah, yes.” The fairy tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I may have forgotten to mention that you might experience a slight speech impediment from now on. But everything has its downsides. I’m sure you will appreciate my magnificent gift no less because of this little inconvenience.”

  And, with that, the fairy turned herself into a pink elephant and flew away.

  “Wait!” the girl called out, running after her. “Please, you can’t leave me like this! What am I supposed to do? Do you really mean this is going to happen again and again, whenever I speak? Please, no! You can’t just—mpf! Grrrg! Argl! Sglhumpfpfrg!”

  *********

  When the beautiful, blond girl had finally managed to dig herself out of the avalanche of pearls, precious jewels, and golden coins that had buried her, she returned, in strict silence, to her father’s house. Her father was out, cutting wood in the forest, but her stepmother awaited her, arms on her hips.

  “Where have you been?” she demanded the moment she caught sight of her stepdaughter. “Why do your clothes look so terribly rumpled? And why in God’s name haven’t you brought the water back? Can’t you do anything right?”

  The girl opened her mouth—then hurriedly closed it again.

  “Well, girl? Out with it, girl! Speak!”

  Opening her mouth again, the stepdaughter wet her lips. “Well, you see, ma’am, it’s like this—mmpf! Rrrg!”

  And out popped four jewels, three pearls, and a small heap of gold coins. The stepmother stared at the girl for a moment—then screamed and dashed back into the house to hide under her bed.

  It took a while for the stepmother to calm down, and an even greater while for her to come out from under the bed. But once she had realized that this was, in fact, not a goblin in the guise of her stepdaughter in her house, but her stepdaughter who happened to be spitting gold and precious jewels, she was out from under there faster than you could say Prince Charming.

  “What happened to you?” she demanded, pushing the stepdaughter into a corner of the room by the force of her greedy glare alone. “Who gave this gift, this power to you?”

  “I…well, I was at the well, and then this old—wmmpf! Rrrgl! Pft! Gk!”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, girl! Write it down! Here, there’s pencil and paper!”

  Soon, the beautiful stepdaughter had told—or rather written—everything. With everything she wrote, the eyes of the stepmother gleamed brighter, and soon the glow of greed emanating from her lit up the small room better than a dozen chandeliers.

  “Child! Child!” she called her own daughter. “Child, come here!”

  After a suitable period of delay to demonstrate her civil disobedience, the daughter came marching into the room.

  “What’s the matter now, mother?” she demanded. Then her eyes fell on her sister, who, though beautiful as ever, looked as miserable as she felt. “Oh my God! What happened to you?”

  “I was in the forest, fetching water at the well,” said the stepdaughter, gazing at the floor. “When this fairy—rrrg! Mpf! Plk! Blg!”

  A small heap of gold, pearls, and diamonds clattered to the floor.

  “Good God!” The daughter wanted to rush forward to embrace her elder sister, but the stepmother grabbed her and held her back.

  “Never mind her,” the stepmother snapped. “You have to go!”

  “Go? Go where? I have to look after her!” The girl bucked and fought, trying to get free of her mother’s grip and get to her sister. “I have to help her! Something is wrong with her! Didn’t you see what happened?”

  “Oh yes, I saw! And that is why you have to go!”

  “Go where, mother? And why?”

  “To meet that fairy, of course! If she bestowed such a marvelous gift on a little rat like her—” and, with that, the stepmother nodded to the beautiful girl, “—only think what she will give you, my beautiful daughter! You will receive gifts beyond your wildest dreams!”

  “Gifts? Mom, are you crazy? Do I look like I want to chew pearls my whole life?”

  The mother narrowed her eyes and shoved her daughter out of the door. “Do as I say! You are not allowed back inside this house until you have seen the fairy!”

  And the door slammed shut behind her. So, reluctantly, the daughter went into the woods, down the path towards the well.

  *********

  Meanwhile, the beautiful and kind stepdaughter, dejected and sad that her beloved sister would share the same fate as she, wandered lonely over the meadows. The worst thing was that she couldn’t even lament her sister’s fate! Every time she tried, she was left with a small hoard of treasure and a sore feeling in her throat. So she had to wander alone and silent.

  At the same time, not far away, the prince of this kingdom and his retinue were out riding. They had been riding for quite some time and had been a bit festive the night before—festive enough to have become a little forgetful and disoriented.

  “So…where exactly are we?” the Prince asked, rubbing his aching skull. He really shouldn’t have drunk that last drink. You should mistrust any drink that makes a pewter mug corrode.

  “I’m not quite sure, Your Highness,” said the captain of the guard.

  “Why not ask that girl over there?” suggested the young Seneschal, his eyes lighting up. “She is sure to know where we are. And forsooth, she is the most beautiful maiden I ever beheld!”

  “Talk normally, will you?” the Prince groaned. “I can’t deal with your courtly speech when I have a hangover!”

  “Of course, Your Highness.”

  “But your suggestion was actually quite sensible. Let’s go and ask her.” And, giving his horse the spurs, the Prince galloped towards the beautiful girl. Hearing his mount approach, the girl looked up, shocked to see a whole royal cavalcade cantering towards her. The Prince brought his horse to a halt only a few feet away from her.

  “Hey! You there, girl! Yes, you! What’s your name?”

  The girl was so overwhelmed that she instinctive
ly opened her mouth to answer—and then shut it again, quickly.

  The Prince frowned. Nobody had ever dared to ignore him before. He had to admit, he didn’t like the feeling much. He especially didn’t like it while he had a hangover and his butt hurt from riding.

  “Speak, girl! In the name of my father, the King, I command you! Your name!”

  Gathering all her courage, the girl opened her mouth a second time:

  “I’m—plk! Grk!”

  Plink! Plink!

  The Prince looked down to where the noise had come from—just in time to see a small diamond and three coins of gold bounce off his magnificent armor.

  “What the…” He looked up at the girl. “That couldn’t have been…no. You didn’t just…”

  The girl took a deep breath and tried again. “My name is—ftt! Tlk! Ggl!”

  Two pearls and a ruby popped out from between her lips and sailed past the Prince, landing in the dirt.

  Needless to say that the Prince was quickly and efficiently cured of his hangover. Suddenly, he was wide awake. So were his companions, who had fallen silent and were all staring at the girl—and not at the parts of her that men usually stare at where beautiful girls are concerned, either! No, they were staring at her open mouth.

  “Am I drunk and seeing things,” inquired the captain of the guard, “or did that little wench really just spit out more money than I make in a year?”

  “Truly, your eyes did not deceive you, captain,” whispered the seneschal, who simply couldn’t shake his tendency to courtly speech. “I beheld the selfsame thing with my very own eyes!”

  “Maybe we should hold her upside down and see if any more comes out?” suggested one of the guards hopefully.

  At this, the girl indignantly crossed her arms. She was good and kind and beautiful all right, but somewhere even goodness and kindness had to draw the line!

  “You will do no such thing!” she exclaimed. “It won’t do you any good, anyway! They just come out when I—tsk! Pfglhk! Kppk! Mpfmpmpfmmmpf!”

  A small pile of valuables clattered onto the ground. The royal retinue followed it with their eyes, then looked up at the girl again.