Author's Notes: This is part 3 of a series of very silly stories.
Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful maiden named Suzi. Her evil stepmother and stepsisters called her Cinder-Suzi because she slept in the ashes. She was always a bit grubby and grimy, but our Suzi was a simple soul -- a hard worker -- and she didn't have a high-falluting bone in her body -- a fact that irritated the rest of her dysfunctional family because they were quite high-falluting themselves. Curiously enough, even though she was a bit dusty on the outside, Suzi positively glowed, much to her jealous sisters' disgust because, you see, Suzi had a wonderful secret. She was in love. Now, the only one she had shared this secret with was her friend, Snow Deb, who came to sing to the little mice. You see, Suzi was an alto and couldn't reach the requisite high notes. But I digress . . .
One day there was cause for great excitement in the household. A royal messenger bearing a royal invitation from the royal palace arrived on their royal doorstep. You see, the king and queen of Mosby were anxious for their son, Francis, to marry, and they were inviting all the eligible maidens of the kingdom (and their mothers) to a royal ball. Now, Cinder-Suzi's wicked stepsisters, Ludmilla and Brunhilda, immediately began to quarrel and squabble over what to wear to the ball, for they really, really wanted to better their situation and thought marrying Prince Francis would be good a way to do that. Cinder-Suzi, on the other hand, could have cared less about Prince Francis because, as I said before, she was in love. By now, you may be asking yourself who the object of Suzi's affection might be. All in due time, my pretty, all in due time.
Now, the aforementioned ball was to take place in a fortnight, and Ludmilla and Brunhilda spent every day fussing and primping. (Believe me, it was gonna take them that long to look presentable.) The two of them kept Suzi quite occupied with fetching, carrying, mending, and embellishing. In her few spare moments, Suzi would sit on her bench outside the house with her friend, Snow Deb, and tell her all about her boyfriend. (I'm still not gonna tell you who he is, but you can probably guess.) She talked sentimental goo about his blue, blue eyes, his cute ears, and his surly expression. Suzi was quite turned on by her man! Snow Deb listened with a dreamy expression on her face, for, you see, she was in love with the grimy one too. But that's another story . . .
So you can see why Suzi had no desire to go to the ball. But alas, things don't always go smoothly in fairytaledom. The day before the dance, Suzi's stepmother informed her that she was going to need someone to carry the train on her ridiculously pompous ball gown and that she had elected Suzi to do so.
Suzi sighed and resigned herself to her fate.
So, on the night of the ball, Suzi washed her face and went along for the ride. She was actually curious to see what would transpire, for she really thought Prince Francis might pick Ludmilla or Brunhilda to be his bride, and that at least she would be rid of one of her evil sisters.
But, of course, the moment Prince Francis saw Suzi, he fell madly, hopelessly in love with her because once cleaned up, our Suzi was quite a looker!
Now, Suzi had not just crawled out of the pumpkin patch. She was not impressed with the prince, even though he was stunningly handsome and quite rich, not to mention a snappy dresser.
Prince Francis, who spoke with a pronounced Southern accent and seemed quite fond of alliteration for some reason, approached Suzi and extended his hand to her. "I would deem it a distinct honor if you would decide to dance with me," he drawled. And without waiting for her reply, he wrapped Suzi in his arms and whisked her out onto the dance floor.
"My dear, you dance divinely!" Francis told Suzi after a few dizzying whirls.
Oh, my! They danced, and they danced, Francis dipping Suzi daringly. Just when it seemed to Suzi that Prince Francis would never tire, the king tapped him on the shoulder to remind him that he had other guests to attend to. Francis frowned. He was loathe to leave her, but duty called. He wagged his finger at Cinder-Suzi. "Save me a waltz," he said, winking wolfishly at her as he walked away.
Cinder Suzi beat a hasty retreat. She headed back home and huddled haplessly on her hearth, hoping her heart's desire would find her.
But Prince Francis was a tenacious fellow, (and besides, as you know, he had to find true love before his forty-fifth birthday), so he searched frantically for his future bride. But, alas, those of you who have kept abreast of Francis' foibles know that it was not to be.
In steps Suzi's fairy godmother (who, up until this point is feeling quite neglected, since Suzi is quite capable of doing things on her own and doesn't need her godmother's help very often.) Away the woman flew to Suzi's true love -- none other than Newt Call, bounty hunter extraordinaire and no one to be trifled with. Fairy Godmother put a bug in the little cowboy's grubby ear, and mounting his pretty grey mare, he raced (with godmother in tow) to his dear Suzi's side. And none too soon, either, for Prince Francis and his ladies were right behind him.
When Francis rode up and found Call and Suzi canoodling on her bench, he was immensely put out. He wore a woebegone expression on his wonderfully-whiskered face. His amber eyes flashed angrily, and he rubbed his lower lip with a vengeance. "I'm really growin' weary of wastin' my time wooin' women so that you can whisk in out of nowhere and win their affections, Call. Go back to your bench, why don't ya?"
Call stretched lazily and said, "Look around you, Francis, this is my bench now."
Francis glowered at him. "Sure it is . . . now." Prince Francis signaled his troops, and he turned and rode away, intent on other conquests. (Will that man EVER find true love?? Hmmm??)
Of course, Call and Cinder-Suzi lived happily ever after. With Call around, Suzi's wicked family didn't dare mess with her, and she spent her time loafing, grunting, grimacing, and learning to shoot a big gun. : )
Phew! This phable is phinally phinished!
The End
4/2003
