funny fairy tale

The REAL Fairy Godmother
The Scrouge Behind the Saint
By Kara VanDermyden

The minute I heard Cinderella crying, I knew I was in for a long night, or maybe many more than that. Trying to ignore the inevitable, I magically appeared beside her. I don’t actually enjoy this kind of entrance, but I figured that there might be a chance of it brightening her spirits a little bit. (Why should one get so upset over a torn dress and missing a ball?) She continued to sob, apparently oblivious to my presence. On to Plan B: The Consoling Grandmotherly stranger. I patted her head, and let her wipe her nose on my robe (which one of my best ones, that blasted child), and let her confide in me. Of course, I should have known that the object of my identity would have to be made known eventually. People are naturally curious that way. And, since I was bound by Fairy law, I could not lie to her, as she was my godchild.

“I am your fairy godmother.” I told her as graciously as I could, considering the fact that I didn’t want to help her all that much. (She looked like one of those people that could never have enough help.)

“Could you help me?” she begged. I would’ve liked nothing more than to say “No, I won’t help you! Help yourself. I was going to go to a party tonight, but I have to stay here and help you, just because you started bawling your pretty little eyes out!”. But I couldn’t. Heaven knows what the head fairy would’ve done to me then.. So I sent her away for a pumpkin, and started bippity-boppity-boo-ing away. That seemed to cheer her up a great deal. I could tell she was really getting her hopes up about this ball of hers. I got the carriage all ready, and was about to load her up into it, but she stopped me, telling me that she still needed a dress. Phooey. I was hoping that sending her off to a royal ball in rags could be my revenge for missing my party. Never mind that thought. I charmed up a dress for her, then muttered another spell under my breath, the one that would undo everything at midnight. She would get left in rags on the side of the road, and get in trouble with her step-mother. Maybe that would work. Hmmm…

It was not to be so, I found out later. Yes, the clock began to strike midnight before Cinderella realized how late it was, but as she ran down the steps of the palace she lost her shoe. I didn’t think that it would be a problem, because all of her clothes were supposed to disappear, but the Fates were conspiring against me. For some reason, the prince was able to keep this little memento to prove to everyone that he had met the most beautiful girl in the country. What had I done? Instead of breaking this selfish girl’s heart, I had made the prince fall in love with her! But another idea had wormed it’s way into my cunning mind, as soon as I heard of the prince’s search for her. That night I paid a visit to her step-mother.

As soon as I told her about Cinderella’s attending the ball in secret, and spending the whole night with the prince, she was quite willing to cooperate with my plans. It helped, of course, that I promised her daughters a wish apiece if Cinderella ended up miserable. As you can tell, I was resorting to drastic measures.

The next afternoon when the prince and his steward came around for the maidens to try on the shoe, Cinderella was locked up in her room, which was far enough away that her incessant pounding on the door could not be heard by the guests. The step-sisters had both tried on the shoe, and the gentlemen were about to leave when Cinderella (blast it all) came scurrying down the stairs, asking for her turn. She had apparently been helped by those rodent friends of hers. I should never have let them back into their normal selves. At least then, they wouldn’t have been small enough to sneak into and out of a pocket with a key unnoticed. Since it could not be helped, I was forced to stand by, and watch my plans be foiled yet again. But then, a miracle! That clumsy steward tripped, (The step-mother’s cane had been placed conveniently in his path) and the shoe shattered on the floor. The man was apparently disturbed, but there was nothing he could do. At last! Something I had been victorious in. Ruining young peoples’ hope and dreams certainly puts me into a good mood. I had begun to jump around in circles to celebrate my victory, when I heard a suspiciously sweet voice say,

“But sir, I have the other slipper!” You cannot imagine my despair. I should’ve know that if one slipper had survived then the other probably would’ve as well. A gloom settled in over my head (literally, for I had the power to make it rain as I wished) as I watched her receive the slipper. She was, of course, whisked off to join her beloved prince in matrimony, forever to live happily in a palace where she would never have to clean again.

‘Tis the end of this story. It may not be as inspiring as the one that your parents fed you as a child, but I told you already, they lived happily ever after (that isn’t my fault.). Now what happened to me, you might ask? (Don’t worry, I know none of you even thought about asking, but I want to be included anyway) I lived a very long, drawn out life, as those of immortal beings often are, and I spent it in the best way I knew how: messing in the lives of other young women, and trying to make the worst of them. What do you think happened with Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, and all the rest? What’s that you say? They all turned out well? Well, yes, I know that. I never said that my track record was perfect…

The End