Cinderella: Part III
If you’ve just joined us, Part I and Part II will help fill you in…
but if you don’t have time for that, here’s where it’s at:
tl;dr — Cindy crashed the ball, danced with the Prince and just snuck home before her sisters got back. Phew! But one sister slept with the Prince in a cupboard…
“Wait,” said Cindy to her sister Cynthia. “You were with the Prince all night?!”
Cynthia smirked then belched proudly.
“But,” said Cinderella, “I thought the Prince was dancing with a beautiful girl on the ballroom floor all night.”
“Yeah,” agreed Claudine. “I heard that too.”
“Aw shit,” said Cynthia. “I bet that guy was only a damn flunky.”
“Wait a minute,” said Claudine to Cindy. “How did you know what the Prince was doing, Cinderella?”
“What?” said Cindy. “I… yes, there were highlights on Fairynews24.”
Luckily, everyone was too tired and drunk to pursue the matter further. Cindy was off the hook. She returned to her damp little cellar, to while away the night thinking upon the wonderful Prince and his progressiveness.
The next morning, another ball was announced for that very evening.
Local businesses were up in arms, as they were still cleaning up the mess from the night before: vomit, and worse, on their doorsteps; broken bottles, litter bins (or trash cans, if you prefer) overturned and spilled across the lanes and streets, smashed windows here and there. Really, it was too much.
Their remonstrations were taken into consideration by the Prince’s father, the King, then taken out of consideration, led down a dark alley and bludgeoned.
“The hell with their complaints,” said the King. “I’m the King, and I’ll do what the hell I like.”
“Yes, your Majesty,” said his courtiers. The Prince looked upon this exchange and vowed that when he was king, things would be different. He promised to usher in a brand new era of governance in Fairyland. That said, this whole ball thing was for his benefit, not the King’s; the King just captured whatever woman took his fancy, because he was King, and could do whatever the hell he liked.
In any event, upon that same evening, a second ball was held. Once more, the stepsisters headed off to it, and Cinderella followed after, helped yet again by the Fey Godmother.
This time around, the Prince never took his eyes or arms off Cinderella. They were lost in a whirlwind of ballgowns and waltzes and twirls and candlelight and wonderful dancing. Oh, how lovely!
Then, Cinderella heard the sound of the bells chiming midnight. “Oh nuts!” she said, and squirmed free of the Prince’s vicelike grip.
“Wait,” said the Prince, as she scampered across the ballroom floor and out the side door onto the cool terrace, where she leaped a mock moat. In leaping, one of the glass slippers slipped off. “Rats,” she cried.
The slipping slipper caused Cindy to fall short of the far end of the moat. By the time she dragged herself clear and fought off the crocodiles, her bodypaint dress had washed off, leaving her completely in the altogether. A quick sojourn in the bushes allowed her to fashion something to cover her modesty using bushleaves and twigs. Thusly attired, she fled into the night, holding the remaining glass slipper in her hand.
The Fey Godmother was still there when she got home, brewing himself a pot of diet tea.
“What the hell are you wearing, sweetie?” he said. “You look like you got dragged through a bush. Wait, did the Prince…? I warned you, these men–”
“No, no,” interrupted Cindy, “it wasn’t like that at all. The Prince was a perfect gentleman. In fact, too much of a gentleman.” She relayed the story to the Fey Godmother as she washed the bushes and twigs off her and changed into something even more bedraggled: her servant’s costume.
“Woe is me,” she said, as the Fey Godmother tucked her into her servant bed. “He’ll never have yet another ball; the townsfolk will revolt. He’ll probably just pick another girl who doesn’t have to go home early every night.”
“Ah, sweetie,” said the Fey Godmother, kissing her forehead and pinching her cheek and affectionately punching her in the shoulder simultaneously. “You really don’t know jack about men, do you?” The Fey Godmother knew better, of course. Sure enough, when dawn broke, all of Fairyland was alive with the news that the Prince was searching the entire kingdom for the girl who wore the glass slipper.
How will it all end? Find out in Part IV, the gripping finale!
Benny Neylon is a satirist and humorist fascinated by everything — from the shape of air to the colour of invisibility. NSA is out now. It was recently called “the greatest work of fiction since the Bible” …which, incidentally, he also wrote. Click below to start reading about God, Lion and Moses the Impaler.
