This challenge is produced by GirlieOnTheEdge with the following simple rules:
Write 6 Sentences. No more. No less.
Use the current week’s prompt word – COFFEE
Click here to hear the author read his words:
Fairy Tale Princess
Even for a beautiful Princess, life’s not all handsome frogs and grass slippers, says the king with his usual tenuous grasp on unreality, you should never have divorced that charming Prince whatsisname.
That no-good silver-tongued cheating sexy conniving gorgeous cheapskate, retorts the Princess, he’s just lucky I left him his Crown Jewels, they were all he had that were worth anything!
Well, I’ve tried all the usual advertising, in the Royal Proclamation Weekly, the Dragon-Slayers Monthly, the International Herald Tribune and even the Ayrshire Post, as well as a Special Feature in the Official Programme for the Annual Lesmahagow Coffee Growers’ Convention, with no luck, my darling drain on my scant resources, so it seems that the hand of a slightly shop-soiled beautiful Princess is not the highly desirable prize it was Once Upon a Time.
Furthermore, and forsooth, my precious pernicious pestilence, we’re pretty much broke, penniless, skint, poverty-stricken, borassic, penurious, indigent, rooked and impoverished, also we have no money, and I really miss my Scotch Pies, so I suggest you reconsider the offer from the butcher for one of his sons, Hal, Al, or wee Porkchop.
But Daddy, there must be someone out there better suited than a mere tradesman, a meat merchant, a slaughterman, no matter how spectacular his black pudding, to marry the King’s daughter, who is, after all, the most beautiful Princess in all the realm and entitled to live, as in all the best Fairy Tales, Happily Ever After.
Yeah, about that, my little mustard and marzipan medley, maybe it’s time you invested in a mirror and realised that you currently have more chins than you do curves and that your delightful countenance is now oft compared by the last remaining servant, (who stays, incidentally, only because he is now infirm, being deficient in the leg division to the tune of at least one*, and therefore unable to hop off as the other 1,314 have done in the past few years) to a plate of cold, half-eaten Haggis, tatties and neeps, so, my swollen Pimple on the Buttock of Humanity, give your hair a wee brush, dicht your coupon, and get yourself down to the Pie Shop tout de suite.
*With thanks to Pete and Dud