Once
upon a time, there lived a beautiful princess in a magnificent castle. Her name was Ruby, named for the
prettiest gem of them all. But
before we can tell her story, we must first learn about the other cast of
characters.
The
merciful ruler: Ruby’s father King
George XXII ruled his kingdom justly.
The people of the kingdom loved him dearly, for he was good to them and
helped them prosper. However,
Ruby, who was in her mid-teens, had begun to grow jealous of her father and the
love he garnered so easily.
The
innocent sidekick: Sometimes
animals talked to Ruby. At least
that’s what she claimed. Either
way, they kept her company whenever she felt particularly angst-ridden. The leader of her furry crew was
Squealer the Teacup Pig. Have you
seen one of these animals? They
are seriously the cutest living thing alive! Ahem. Squealer
was known throughout the animal kingdom for his ability to always say the right
thing at the right moment.
The
handsome warrior: Gregory was born
an ordinary peasant. Like all
ordinary peasant boys, he was in love with Princess Ruby. Unlike all ordinary peasant boys, he
decided to do something about it.
He knew Ruby wouldn’t notice him until he did something heroic, so he
went to Night School for Knights.
After graduation—and becoming Sir Gregory—he departed for Darkness
Mountain where the hideous Black Dragon dwelled. Sir Gregory’s goal was to slay the dragon, bring back its
head as proof (a gross and unnecessary gesture), and win the princess’s heart.
The
evil witch: Ruby’s mother had died
in childbirth, and King George XXII was a busy man, so primary caregiving
responsibilities fell to the late Queen’s jealous sister Hazel. In an unexpected power move, Hazel
drugged the king and forced him to marry her, making her Ruby’s
stepmother. And just like all
stepmothers are wont to be, Hazel was wicked. Oh so very wicked.
Of course, Hazel married the king not to be Ruby’s mother—she despised
the girl—but to become queen.
Hazel planned to off the king and ascend to power, but in an even more
unexpected turn of events, she learned that although she was technically queen,
she was not next in line for the throne.
Ruby was. Leave it to
ancient loopholes and overly confusing royal traditions, but nevertheless, it
saved the king’s life. Queen Hazel
proceeded to take out her anger on her stepdaughter. But Queen Hazel’s true scheme, to turn Ruby into a helpless
stork, had just begun.
We
now join our main story, already in progress.
“Mirror,
mirror, on the wall, why doesn’t my dress fit me at all?” asked Ruby with a
whiny edge to her voice. The
mirror didn’t respond. I mean, of
course it didn’t. It’s an
inanimate object. Princess Ruby
was just talking to herself, as per usual. She found it a good defense mechanism against the horrors of
the real world. Talking to animals
also helped. Especially
Squealer. Who happened to be
sitting in a teacup on Ruby’s armoire (a dresser, but for royalty).
“I
think you look beautiful, Ruby!” chirped the pig.
“Thanks,
Squealer. I wish I could marry you
instead of some handsome warrior I don’t even know.”
“I
love you, too, Ruby, but we wouldn’t want a future ruler to be some horrid
humanoid swine, now would we?”
“No,
I guess you’re right,” Ruby conceded with a sigh.
“Right.
Now let’s get you looking pretty
for the suitors.”
Out
of the room’s open windows came hordes of critters: swallows, chimpanzees, butterflies, platypuses, swordfish,
and the occasional bunny. Outside
the castle these animals might be enemies, but inside Ruby’s room they were
united by their common mission of making her look beautiful. The fish handled makeup, the insects
painted and trimmed her nails, the rodents managed alterations, the monotremes
took on the hair, the birds were experts in shoes, and the primates did the
shaving. In a few minutes, the
animal swarm had dissipated, leaving Ruby looking even prettier than she had
before. After receiving a good
luck wink from Squealer, she descended the grand stairs to the grand entrance,
where she would await the line of potential suitors.
The
first young man to enter through the castle’s portcullis was a gangly,
acne-riddled, awkward specimen.
But before he could open his mouth to explain his virtues, such as
curing the bubonic plague, another man barged through the gates. This one was handsome.
It
was Sir Gregory, who had just “returned from slaying the Black Dragon! And because I have proven myself a
hero, I am worthy of marrying you, my highness.”
Ruby
was aghast. First of all, the
Black Dragon had not harmed anyone.
The only thing it did that could be considered violent was killing
mosquitoes, thereby lowering the incidence of West Nile virus in the
kingdom. And even Ruby didn’t
consider killing mosquitoes to be animal violence. Second, Sir Gregory had the gall to drag the still bleeding
dragon head into the castle. A
tear fell from one of Ruby’s brilliant blue eyes.
“A
tear of joy!” proclaimed Sir Gregory.
“Our love is as true as your tearful eye is blue.”
“Guards,
please ask him to—”
“Marry
me! Marry me, sweet princess!”
Ruby
took in one last stare, then ran back up the staircase and into her room.
“Boy
trouble?” asked Squealer.
“I
have so many men doting on me, but they’re all horrific! This one today dragged in a dragon’s
head to impress me, but it was just so sad,” cried Ruby.
“Tell
me about it, girlfriend,” agreed her pig friend. “You just need a good cry. Go on. Cry. We’re here for you, sister.”
Ruby
cried. She cried because of her
boy problems. She cried because of
the Black Dragon and the impending West Nile virus epidemic. She cried because of the mother she
never knew. She cried because her
stepmother Hazel was so mean. But
mostly, she cried because she was a teenage girl.
That
night at dinner, the royalty sat in their normal places: King George XXII at one of the heads of
the gratuitously long table, Queen Hazel at the opposite end, and Princess Ruby
in the middle, but trying to scoot closer to her father. Their conversation also proceeded as
normal:
“How
was school, honey?” asked the king.
“Father,
I don’t go to school. I’m a
princess, remember?” replied Ruby.
“Sure
you are, sweetie.”
“No,
I’m a real princess. You’re the
king, so I’m a princess.”
“For
the last time we’re not getting you a pony.”
“But
I didn’t even ask for one!”
“Don’t
you think you have enough dolls, sweetums?”
“Father,
I am sixteen! I don’t play with
dolls anymore.”
“Any
special boys you want to tell us about?”
“I
don’t like—Oh, yes, I guess there’s one.
He came today during the daily suitor auditions. He was mean, but he was so
handsome. I don’t know what to
do.”
“What
was his name?” asked the queen.
The king and Ruby stared at her.
They couldn’t remember the last time she had shown, or even feigned,
interest in one of their conversations.
“Well, what was it?”
“Sir
Gregory. He’s a knight.”
“Ah. Would you like to meet him again?” Queen Hazel had plans of her own
(remember the stork?), and they were becoming dangerously near to fruition.
“I
guess,” replied Ruby. “As long as
he doesn’t bring any more dead animals.
Or their dismembered limbs.
It’s icky and mean.”
“Very
well. That can be arranged,” said
Queen Hazel. There was a long
pause as everyone took in this seeming cordiality between the females.
“Ruby,
for the last time, you can’t have a puppy!” asserted the king.
Dinner
ended. Like all meals, Ruby did
not eat her vegetables. She
despised them almost as much as she despised her stepmother. Every repast, she scraped the crudités
from her plate into her napkin. After
the meal, she would bring them up to her room and hide them from her
parents. She often fed the
leftovers to her animal friends.
Tonight, after not eating a particularly large helping of peas, she hid
them in her bed under the mattress.
“The
bed bugs will eat well tonight,” Ruby thought to herself.
After
bidding Squealer goodnight, Ruby closed her eyes to fall asleep. But she couldn’t. Sir Gregory was on her mind. What would she wear when she met
him? What would she say? Would he hate her because she ran away
today? These racing thoughts kept
her up most of the night. That,
and the peas made the bed quite uncomfortable.
No comments:
Post a Comment