We Interrupt This Olympic Broadcast To Bring You Part One Of "A Demented Fairy Tale.

We Interrupt This Olympic Broadcast To Bring You Part One Of "A Demented Fairy Tale."

The sun's first rays hit the stone floor of the grimy kitchen Cinderella also had the dubious pleasure of calling her bedroom. Cinderella turned over in her not-so-comfortable pile of soot and regarded the invading light with something akin to amusement. Funny how something so beautiful could illuminate such ugliness. As she sat up and started flicking the insects off her lap, a loud and nasal voice erupted from one of the manor's bedrooms. "Human!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wake up and cook our breakfast you stupid little tramp!!!!!!" Cinderella took a moment to relish the possibility that one day her "houseguests" would fall off a cliff, then rose and began preparing the morning meal.

A quarter of an hour later, a feast fit for a king (albeit a disgusting king) was laid out on the dining room table. Three pigs dressed in the most luxurious finery available were waiting impatiently for their meal. Cinderella watched in resignation as they began to feed, spraying rotten eggs and decaying meat even as far as the tapestries on the wall. The pigs finished up with a series of loud grunts and emissions, then left the room. Cinderella began the arduous task of cleaning up after them. Five times a day, she was forced to scrub the dining room walls and furnishings, but the smell always lingered. How did her life come to this?

The story was simple in its idiocy. Cinderella's dear but alcoholic father got rip roaring smashed one day and lost his house in a game of poker to three homeless pigs. The pigs had been cordial at first, but once the shock of almost being crushed to death by timber, then almost dying in the earthquake that toppled their comfy brick house had worn off, they turned out to be quite adept at cheating at cards. In the end, Cinderella's father had run away with some slut in a red "riding" cloak that she apparently used for walking of all things. Cinderella had been left at the mercy of three mean-tempered pigs, and a life of servitude. She could have left she supposed, but where would she go? And how would she feed herself? She didn't want to end up like her cousin Little Bo Peep, who had been forced to turn tricks after losing her livelihood when one of her sheep went off a cliff and the others followed.

Cinderella sighed and went to go wash up. Washing up meant jumping into the ice cold lake outside the manor. Her masters never took baths, so the bathtub was currently being used as the upstairs toilet. Luckily she had never been asked to clean that. Turning tricks would have been an easy choice to make if she had been expected to do that.

As she approached the lake, Cinderella noticed a man wandering around the shore, looking confused. He brightened visibly when he saw her.

"I say," he called out, "Are you a princess?"

Cinderella looked down at her ratty wool dress. The holes were currently hidden by the pig slop and the smell emanating from the garment could only be described as ghastly.

"Yeah I am obviously," she replied. "Why do you ask?"
"You might be the person my mother sent me to look for. My mother sent me to go find some really rich princess who's been sleeping for ten years, wake her up, and bring her back to our kingdom. My mother wants grandchildren."

Cinderella could only gape. The guy was really hot but apparently dumber than a bag of dirt. "I'm sorry, I'm not the one you're looking for. That one lives a couple days' walk through the Enchanted Forest. I'll point you in the right direction." Might as well send him on his way. If there was anything that irritated her more, it was dumb people. This guy had only said four sentences and she was already looking for a wall to bang her head into. Plus every sentence had contained the words "my mother." He couldn't have been any more annoying, even if he decided to follow her around and step on her heel while yelling "Flat tire!!"

Prince Dimwit smiled at her and she momentarily forgot her irritation. He really was hot. She hadn't seen anyone better looking since that one woodcutter. But he had been standing by himself in the middle of a clearing, clutching a rabbit heart and smearing rabbit blood on himself so she just figured he was one of those weirdos.

A rock hit her shoulder. Pig Number One was leaning out of his upstairs bedroom with a rather nasty smile on his face. "Ohhhhhh Ciiindereelllllllaaaa. The toilet is full. Come up here and make some room. You shouldn't have served us beans."

Cinderella turned back to Prince Dimwit with a quickness. "Never mind what I said earlier," she said. "Give me a minute to bathe and I'll show you where the sleeping princess lives myself."