January 06, 2011
Happy Ending
Once upon a time, there was a girl named Wenchie. Like Belle, she loved to read and sing. Like Sleeping Beauty, she loved to nap. Like Rapunzel, she had long, lush hair. Like Tinkerbell, she was jealous and vindictive. In short, she was the very best of all princesses, wrapped into one package... and sprinkled with the fairy dust of Snow White's Evil Stepmother the Queen.
Now, because this is the Cliff Notes version of this fairy tale, I will not recount the many and various trials that Princess Wenchie went through in her search for bliss. Suffice to say that there were two trolls, a dragon named PhD, and a champion. And if you're new and need more back story than that, click here for a great way to waste an entire day of your life that you'll never get back.
When we last left our heroine, she was down to single digits in her Countdown to Freedom, i.e. the day the magic spell would be lifted and Wenchie freed from indentured servitude. As of her return from her extended holiday vacation, she had but nine risings and settings of the sun remaining.
As you may recall, Wenchie had tried many, many times to escape the clutches of the enchanted cubicle that held her prisonor, to no avail. The invisible bonds of the spell were much too strong, and every time she thought she had found the right magic to defeat them, she was only clutched tighter to the bosom of the beast.
Tuesday began like any other day. Wenchie rose to do her chores before sunrise, and then the little forest creatures dressed her, brushed her long, lush hair, and the birdies applied her make-up with their soft, tiny wings. (Except for the finches because they're always too heavy with the eyeliner.)
Upon arriving in the dungeon, an HR Troll slithered into Champion's quarters, upon his request, for a closed-door chat. Upon emerging from said meeting, Champion approached Wenchie's cube -- cape fluttering and eyes twinkling.
"Can you work two more weeks, through the end of January?" he asked quietly.
Her senses dulled by the spell he wove, Wenchie nodded and agreed, thereby sealing her fate, dooming her to yet another extension of her sentence. The prize she so desparately sought -- the prize of freedom -- was again moved out of her reach. Her eyes glazed over as she tried to pretend to be happy to be earning one more paycheck, but deep in her heart, she was miserable.
A dark cloud hung over Wenchie. She couldn't sleep. She turned down chocolate. Slowly, a plan began to form in her charm-addled brain. What if she was just like that blind idiot Dorothy? What if she, all along, had held the power to leave...? How fucking annoying! I hate it when fairy tales (or The Simpsons) have an obvious moral!
Summoning all her strength, Wenchie crept into the dragon's lair and cried, "I'm not staying another two weeks! My future does not lie within these walls! I am leaving to find my destiny!"
To her shock, the dragon did not breath fire at her or rip her to shreds with his talons. He merely nodded his grotesque, scaly head and looked at her with resignation, and even a little begrudging respect. He removed the enchanted shackles from her ankles and let her go.
Next, Wenchie went to the throne room and told her Champion, "Look, thanks for your repeated efforts to save me, but I don't need to be rescued anymore. I'm going to rescue myself. Starting at 4:00 p.m. on Friday the 14th. Farewell, and thanks for all the porridge."
And she lived...
~ HaPPiLY ~
~ eVeR ~
~ aFTeR! ~
Comments
Best.Post.Ever.
Posted by: Vicki at January 6, 2011 10:40 AM
I agree with Vicki. This post was awesome.
BTW: You really had me worried. How can you refuse chocolate? It's medicine for the soul, and your soul definitely needed medication!
Hugs,
-Lori
Posted by: Lori at January 10, 2011 12:20 PM