Cinderella Lies

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Imagine a world where princesses aren’t what they seem, and life is far from a fairy tale.

For example, Cinderella. According to the popular legend, she was a victim of abuse by a cruel stepmother and stepsisters, but what if I told you Cinderella wasn’t mistreated by anyone that she herself didn’t mistreat?

What if I told you she never really fell in love with anyone, either, especially a rich charming prince?

The truth is, Cinderella only loved herself.

After her mother died, she gladly stepped into her shoes ordering around the servants.

I was one of them. One day, I dared to ask her for a day off.

“My dear Cinderella, I have toiled away for you as long as I remember, preparing your meals, washing your clothes and tending to your needs, even while neglecting the needs of my own children,” I said while painting her nails in the powder room. “My husband cares for my son and daughter as well as he can, but my darlings are growing up fast, you see, and I miss them so … so might I spend tomorrow with my family, oh pretty pleeeeeeease?”

“And neglect me?” Cinderella said, blowing dry her golden finger nails. “Oh, poor you, how dreary life must be! Torn between your duties as a servant and impulses as a mother. Let me end your suffering quickly …”

“Thank you!” I said, kissing her hand.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said with a smirk.

At which point Cinderella withdrew a sack of coins from her safe and left by carriage to town. When she returned, she said she had arranged with the local magistrate to have my children thrown into prison.

“Problem solved!” she announced to me in the foyer. “You never have to worry about those meddlesome ankle-biters again! They will have a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, and your husband can live a life of leisure, which I’m sure he deserves, having suffered you and your lot plenty.”

Cinderella chuckled.

“Perhaps now he can marry a woman of standing, like me,” she said, “and you can focus your attention on us.”

“But … but … such a life is not what I struggle for!” I cried. “Such a life isn’t even worth living! How dare you … you … cruel snickerdoodle!”

“How dare you, calling me by my middle name!” Cinderella said, slapping my face. “It’ll be five lashings and a week in the dungeon, miss.”

However, my week in the dungeon was not wasted. I found an old book of spells, and I cast a curse on the horrid princess.

The next time Cinderella saw me, she didn’t recognize me as a poor wretch. Instead, she saw a well-rested woman in the powder room wearing one of her gowns and blowing dry her freshly-painted finger nails.

“Oh, my dear Cinderella, wash the curtains and scrub the floors, and then prepare my dinner, will you?” I said. “I’m off to see the magistrate to take care of some family business.”

Cinderella nodded with vexation.

I removed a sack of coins from the safe and pointed at the other two female servants standing by my side.

“Listen to your stepsisters while I’m gone,” I said. “When I return, I don’t want to hear any nonsense about a rich charming prince coming to save you. You’re going to have to do better than that if you expect to get out of this mess.”

“Like what?” Cinderella said.

“You can start by apologizing for being such a b— you know, a less-than-noble person.”

“Well, I’ve never!” she said, and she stormed off to start doing her chores.

Psychopath Strawberry

Psychopath Strawberry

Mom was a scientist.

One day, she became sick with the flu.

While she was sick with the flu, a fellow scientist, Larry, made a toxic fume. The toxic fume drove Larry and the other scientists in the lab crazy.

So much for trying to cure for cancer … now Larry and his pals wanted to develop new ways of hurting people!

“We’re going to get rich!” Larry said during a conference call with Mom. “Get well and get back to the lab ASAP, so you can help us screw up the world!”

The plan was to sell a batch of ice cream that tasted great but was filled with the toxic fume so it would make everyone who eats it crazy, too.

It was all wrong.

“You’ve got to stop him,” Mom said to me.

She was in bed with a high fever.

“How?” I said.

She coughed up mucous, sneezed, and blew her nose into a tissue.

“Here, take this,” she said, handing me the dirty tissue. “Spread my snot around the lab. Then, steal a sample of the toxic fume. Bring it to me … I’ll take over from there.”

“Okay,” I said, wondering what Mom was thinking.

I put on one of her dress and sunglasses. I fixed up my hair. I tossed on her lab coat and grabbed her badge off the night stand.

I looked myself over in her mirror.

“You’re my spitting image,” Mom said with a snotty laugh. “Good luck, dear.”

*

I ditched my bike outside the lab and flashed my badge at a guy sitting behind the front desk.

“Welcome back, Dolores,” he said with a weird grin. “How are you feeling?”

I read the name on his badge. Larry!

“Better,” I said. “I just need … some coffee … to perk me up!”

“We have a fresh pot brewing in the break room,” he said, pointing. “Grab a cup, then meet me in the lab. I want to tell you about our new line of ice cream. We’re going to call it Psychopath Strawberry!”

“Cool name,” I said. “I’m sure a lot of people will like it.”

“I hope so!” Larry said with his weird grin.

In the break room, I took out the dirty tissue from my pocket. I dripped some of Mom’s snot into the pot of coffee. I also rubbed the dirty tissue along the rims of the clean cups.

I filled one of the cups with coffee and started roaming around the lab with a weird grin on my face like the other mad scientists. Everyone seemed happy to see me.

“Dolores is back!” someone yelled. “Our star has returned! Now we’ll really wreak havoc around the world!”

Finally, I found a sample of the toxic fume. I stuffed it into my lab coat.

It was time to escape from this creepy place.

I turned a corner in the hallway. Larry stood before me.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he said with his weird grin.

I had to think fast.

“Yes!” I said, handing him the cup of coffee. “This is for you. I have to go home. Now my daughter has the flu! Good luck selling your insane ice cream. You should add cashews, to make it nuttier.”

“Great idea!” Larry said with a wild laugh. “I love the way you think, Dolores! Maybe you should take a batch of Psychopath Strawberry home to your daughter. It might make her feel better …”

“Another time, maybe,” I said. “Gotta run!”

*

At home, Mom felt better.

“I’m so glad you returned safe,” she said, hugging me. “How’d it go?”

I gave her the sample.

“Perfect,” she said, stuffing it into her purse. “Tomorrow, at work, I know just what to do.”

*

The next day, Mom called me from the lab.

I was in bed sick with the flu.

So were the other scientists. Even Larry was holed up at home with a fever.

“It’s been so peaceful and quiet around here,” Mom said, “plenty of time to figure out a cure for the toxic fume. I poured the cure into the air vents. My fellow scientists will return to work tomorrow and be back to their old selves soon. Psychopath Strawberry will be like a bad dream that never happened.”

“I’m so happy to hear it,” I said from bed. “Are you and the other scientists going to keep trying to cure cancer?”

“Of course, but first I’m coming home, to cure you,” Mom said. “Would you like me to bring some ice cream?”

I laughed.

“Sure,” I said. “Just nothing with strawberries, or nuts.”

“Deal.”

Chapter 4: Uncle Jake’s Visit

 

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Jack and Ryan were concerned because Uncle Jake was coming to visit, and they didn’t want Doom Clown to ruin their fun with him.

There was a knock on the door.

“Hey, kids, guess who?”

It was Uncle Jake!

Behind the door, Doom Clown stood with a knife, ready to surprise him.

Jack opened the door, and the two brothers quickly dragged Jake through the living room into their bedroom closet.

“Well, I’m glad to see you guys, too, but you hurt my arm … and how about a hug? And what’s with all the secrecy?”

“Shush!” Jack said. “Sorry about the arm, and here’s a hug.”

Both boys embraced their uncle.

“But we’ve got a problem,” Ryan said. “There’s a homicidal clown running around the house, and we need you to help us stop him!”

At that moment, there was a scream.

Autumn, the boys’ little sister, was in trouble. Or so they thought.

They ran to her bedroom and found Doom Clown, seated at her bureau, screaming like a girl.

Autumn was putting makeup on him, making him look like a princess.

Doom Clown looked pretty. And terrified.

“Now’s our chance!” Jack said. “Go for it, Uncle!”

Jake hesitated.

“Well, this isn’t really my style, but she is kind of cute … hey, lady, are you single?”

“What?” Ryan said. “This ain’t no time for shenanigans … Get him!”

“That’s a HIM?” Jake said.

“Yes, and he’s a maniac!” Jack said. “Stop him!”

“Fat chance, suckers!” Doom Clown said.

He pressed a button on his watch and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

“Oh, no, he escaped!” Ryan said.

“Ha, ha, ha!” Doom Clown said.

But when the smoke cleared, they realized he hadn’t escaped at all.

He was stuck. In the mirror.

“Oh, no!” said Doom Clown. “I must have pressed the wrong button on this darn watch …”

“Lucky us,” Jake said. “Looks like we get the last laugh, after all.”

“Maybe, this time,” said Doom Clown.

The mirror swirled in smoke and his face faded in the darkness.

“But I’ll be back … I’LL BE BACK!”

Chapter 3: The Biggest Regret

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A boy named Ryan climbed into the attic, his favorite place. On a shelf, Ryan saw a book called, Doom Clown: The Worst Joker.

“Read me,” said a voice coming from the book.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“If you say ‘Doom Clown’ three times, I will be free and yours to read and make you laugh foreverrrr and everrrr.”

Ryan ran downstairs to his brother Jack’s bedroom to tell him what happened.

Jack said, “I bet that clown’s not very funny. Say his name three times, and let’s see what happens.”

Ryan said, “No, you!”

“Fine, scaredy cat,” Jack said, and he repeated ‘Doom Clown’ three times.

They heard a thump in the attic, and then a scratch on the door.

Jack opened the door, and there was Doom Clown, with a scary smile.

“Thanks, little boys!” he said. “Come closer, and give me a hug!”

Jack and Ryan screamed and ran.

Chapter 1: Doom Clown Lives

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Once there was a Good Clown who entertained boys and girls at birthday parties, but deep down he had a bad side. One day while looking himself in the mirror, Good Clown accidentally summoned the monster in himself.

The monster was Doom Clown, and he said, “How you doing, old friend?! You wanna play?”

Good Clown said, “No?!”

But Doom Clown refused to be turned down.

“Let’s play anyway!” Doom Clown said, and he tossed Good Clown into the closet and locked him in there, or so he thought.

Then Doom Clown went to a birthday party. He said to the kids, “Time to die!”

He started running after them, trying to fart on their heads so their heads would pop off, because his farts were so gross.

Then Doom Clown had to pee, so he went to the bathroom. Good Clown used the opportunity to take control again.

“I am good, l am good, l am good!” said the face in the mirror.

Then Doom Clown got stuck in the mirror.

The end.

Maybe.