Prince Beautiful and The Noble Knight

Once upon a time in a land far, far away lived a noble Knight named Ms Tanya. As you can probably imagine, Ms. Tanya was a very lonely knight , and often the subject of intense ridicule by her male peers, who would shout “Hey Princess!” as they rode past on horseback, or “Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen cooking?” as they ate dinner at the local Tavern. Consequently she was a reclusive hermit, eschewing dinner parties and fancy royal weddings for quiet nights at home and long walks on the beach.
Well, one day our gallant Knight was pursuing a deer when she came upon a fancy castle in the woods, and noted a handsome man with long brunette curls and pretty brown puppy-dog eyes confined within its Ivory Tower.
“Hey you!” she shouted in her broken Cockney accent (all Knights hail from England, and she was no exception). “Why they got you locked up in that terribly constrained tower?”
“It’s a long story,” the handsome man mused, then sighed.
“Well I haven’t got all day,” she responded curtly. “Get on with it! What is your name anyway?”
“Prince Beautiful,” the Prince replied, sighing again.
“Why do you keep doing that?”
“Doing what?” asked the Prince.
“Sighing.” our Knight answered. “It’s terribly rude and shows you’re bored with your company.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to - I’m not bored. I don’t get much company, except my parents who lecture me once a day. Would you like something to eat?”
“No, I want to hear the bloody story. I get off work in an hour,” she said, looking at her watch.
“Okay!” Prince Beautiful exclaimed. “Well I’m locked up in this tower because I’m too pretty. See that castle over there across the woods?” the Prince asked, pointing to some turrets jutting up from the tree tops. “Prince Charming lives there. He’s very jealous because I’m prettier than he is, so he told me mum and dad this fancy story about some royal wench asleep in a castle, and said if I kissed her she would wake up and we could be married. I didn’t really want to go, but with peer pressure and all, I sallied forth to the supposed princess’s chamber - and found this horribly unattractive minger asleep on the floor. I think she weighed a good 350 pounds. I really didn’t want to kiss her, but my parents called me a patsy, so I decided to put all the rumors about my alleged sexual orientation to rest and gave her a peck on the lips. Well, this monstrous wench wakes up, takes one look at me sister, and falls in love, so I got out of that one good.”
“And how does this figure in to your imprisonment?” our splendid heroine inquired.
“I’m not done yet!” quipped the prince. “So Prince Charming - the regal arse - then presents me mum and dad with a glass slipper, saying it belongs to some princess somewhere in the northern part of the country. So here we go again - traipsing to foreign soil to track down another bird with a title. Well, come to find out it’s just a lad who fancies women’s clothes - quite beautiful when he’s all decked out, but he’s got the wrong bits, you know?”
“Too bad,” Ms Tanya replied. “But it doesn’t explain…”
Prince Beautiful groaned. “I know! I know! Just listen. So, then Prince Charming - the malevolent bugger with a pole up his arse - tells me mum and dad about this tart living with seven dwarves. I told them if she’s got seven dwarves to please her, she doesn’t need me…and that’s how I got locked up in this little room of the West Wing.”
“Ah. Well that explains it. Good luck to ya. It’s 5 now, and I’ve got to go home and cook supper,” said our Knight.
Prince Beautiful gasped. “Well, aren’t you going to rescue me?”
“From what? You live in a Castle! By God, most of us could only hope to live in a Castle!”
“But I’m locked up!” countered the Prince.
“If you lived in a wooden shack that leaked when it rains, you wouldn’t be complaining,” retorted our Noble Knight. “You’ve got a roof over your head, food to eat, no tax collectors bothering you…”
“That’s not the point. I want to be free. And since we’re debating my rescuing, since when does the King knight women? I‘ve never seen a wench in uniform.”
Ms. Tanya blushed. “I can explain that. My parents wanted a boy, so me mum dressed me up like a lad when I was a child.”

“Oh blimey!” Prince Beautiful cried while plucking the lint from his belly-button. “Too bad. So, I was thinking, if you were to help me out of this little situation here, I might consider marrying you.”
“Bah! And what makes you think I want to get married?” Ms Tanya countered. “That’s a gender stereotype perpetuated by a patriarchal system for the purposes of maintaining power through sexual subjugation. I thought you’d be more progressive, seeing as you’re a prince locked up in an anachronistic tower.”
“Well how about a back rub, then?” asked Prince Beautiful.
“A back rub? Well I do have a sciatic nerve problem from riding this bloody horse all the time…”
“I’ve got my chiropractor’s license,” enthused the Prince, “but my parents don‘t want me touching smelly, old people.”
“Deal. I’ll be back in the morning with rope,” said our valiant heroine, turning around her horse in order to avoid ending the sentence with a preposition.
“Wait!” the Prince exclaimed, tittering on his tip-toes, for he was too short to see out the window otherwise, “you must kill the dragon first!”
“What dragon?!”
“I don’t know! You’re the knight! There’s always a bloody dragon in one of these stories.”
“I think you’ve got your genres confused,” answered Knight Tanya, turning her horse around in the other direction, thus again avoiding ending the sentence in a preposition. “This isn’t a medieval Renaissance piece, but a contemporary satiric fairy tale mocking Medieval Renaissance pieces, gender relations and…uh, fairy tales amongst other ideas that may come to the author’s mind during its telling.”
“So, there’s no dragon?”
“No.”
“Oh, but this is a fairy-tale?” the Prince asked tenuously, despite current editorial standards, which discourage the use of adverbs.
“Yes.”
“Then Prince Charming is a witch who’s cast a spell on me,” answered Beautiful who, at that very moment unbeknownst to our noble Knight, was scratching his hemorrhoids on the sly.
“I didn’t think men could be witches,” countered Ms Tanya. “Don’t you mean warlock?”
“Warlock then. In any case the fairy cast a spell on me and my parents.”
Our splendid heroine scrunched her heretofore undescribed face up in confusion. “What fairy?”
“Prince Charming.”
“But you said he was a witch…a warlock,” the Knight, who by this time was want for another descriptive term, corrected. “Warlocks cannot be fairies; nor can fairies be warlocks. They’re mutually exclusive terms.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. He’s a nancy. A poofter. A bent ginger. A poncy.”
“Well I didn’t know!” declared Ms Tanya defensively. “I’m just feigning this Cockney accent for the sake of the piece. I’m not really from England.”
“You’re not? Then what are you doing here?”
“I’m supposed to rescue you! Don’t you know the author lives vicariously through her characters? Now if you’ll excuse me, Prince Beautiful, I’ve got to visit your fairy. Why don’t you go brush your long, flowing brunette locks until I get back,” she cried, and with that, rode off into the sunset, although Charming’s Castle was in the complete opposite direction.

I love it.... tears still rolling down my cheeks... "poofter" HAHAHAHAHAHA.

Very original. Well done.

Good Story and I was so glad that they were not gay because of the name of the title. Pretty good.

[QUOTE=katie9trent;401087]Good Story and I was so glad that they were not gay because of the name of the title. QUOTE]

What's wrong with being gay?


It was hilarious :lol: I loved it! :idea: You should write a book countess :lol: :p

It's a work in progress. Ms Tanya must go see Prince Charming next (in this part she'll pretend to be something she isn't pretending to be something she is!)

You will post that, eh?

Great job! I love it. I am also thinking this could be the start of a great script for a Disney movie. :thumbs_up

But surely this line is a mistake:

Quote:

---

“If you lived in a wooden shack that leaked when it rains, you wouldn’t be complaining,”

---

That line was a little awkward.

Very good, and funny, Countess! :D

I do believe the characters this story are based are the lovely Countess, and the genetically ambiguous Orlando Bloom....am I right? Am I? Huh? Huh? Am I?

Very entertaining, thanks Countess.

Great! Immensely enjoyable, looking forward to more.

lots of funny lines, original...smiled and chuckled my whole way through..."Prince Beautiful cried while plucking the lint from his belly-button." love the surprising little details like this. Thanks!

[QUOTE=B-Mental;401490]I do believe the characters this story are based are the lovely Countess, and the genetically ambiguous Orlando Bloom....am I right? Am I? Huh? Huh? Am I?
[QUOTE]

You know too much - LOL! Yes, I'm letting The Pretty be Pretty, and I am playing the "period piece" role as rescuer.

Thanks all for the feedback regarding my demented fairy tale. (--:

Here's part 3 (this'll probably play out in about 5 parts I'm imagining, although I never know until I write it.)

The next morning our noble knight arose and, donning her best dress, started towards Prince Charming’s castle. It had been years since she had worn a dress, and - well, that’s not exactly true. She had never worn a dress, nor was this particularly her best one, but some details must be sacrificed for the sake of the story. Suffice it to say, she looked prettier than your average, cross-dressing knight, despite the fact that she found the corset terribly constricting - but that’s what happens when you wear it backwards.
In any case she safely arrived at the castle and knocked on the door. Presently some old slag from East London opened it. “Are you the Hoover guy?” she asked, peering out from behind the door.
“Uh, no,” our newly adorned Knight replied, pointing to the guy behind her. “That’s him.”
“Well, are you a salesmen, then.? I already own a subscription to Undertaker Fashion .”
“No…I’m neither a guy nor a salesMAN. Haven’t you not noticed I’m wearing a dress?” quipped Ms Tanya.
“Oh, I thought you were a boy. Well, what is it you want? I haven’t got all day.”
“I’m the princess from Kingdom…um….”
“Kingdom Um? I haven’t heard of it.” declared the old whore. “Is that located in in the British Isles?”
“No, that’s Kingdom Erm. I’m from Kingdom…Acrossthway, and I’ve come seeking your son’s hand in marriage. I hear he’s terribly charming.”
Suddenly - and much to the dismay of British midgets everywhere - a very scary giant entered the room. “Fe! Fi! Fo! Fum! I smell the blood of an Englishman!” he growled angrily, then taking one look at our heroine, asked in his most polite voice, “Are you Jack?”
“Does Jack wear dresses?” Ms Tanya seethed, or rather, simmered for twenty minutes. “Cos if so, I might be him, or else, I’m somebody else, and you’re in the wrong script.”
“Ah, I thought you were a boy.”
“Oh, shut-up!” snipped our faux princess . “I’ve come seeking your son’s hand in marriage.”
“Who - Charming? Hah! I don’t know if he’ll fancy you or not. He’s a bit queer in his tastes.”
“So I’ve heard, but I think he’ll favor me if you’ll allow me to speak with him.”
The large giant, which is a redundant statement, sighed. “Suit yourself”.
“Gladly,” Ms Tanya cried, then changed into her fanciest tuxedo.
Meanwhile, the Queen departed the room, and soon returned with her son in tow, for he wouldn’t have come otherwise. “This is Princess…erm…”, she said, pointing to our phony princess.
“No, Erm is in the British Isles.” said our Knight. “I’m from Acrossthway. My name is…my name is…my name is….Tim.”
“Tim?” everyone shouted.
“What kind of name is that?” inquired the old skank.
“It’s an Enchanter’s name, one whose origins are great disputed by etymologists today. Some trace its ancestry to Latin, meaning “one who is afraid of God” while others support the Proto Indo-European theory, meaning “destroyer of fingers”. However many theorists, including myself , hold that it originated in Greece, and is translated “one who honors moths”.
“Oh,” muttered the old battleax, who by now was making eyes at the Hoover repairman.
Taking advantage of the momentary silence, Princess Tim quickly escorted Charming out the back door, for by now it was a well-known fact the prince preferred backdoors.
“So, tell me Prince, do you think I‘m pretty?” she squeaked in a male falsetto, batting her eyelashes at him.
“No, and you should really take care of that nervous condition. Your eyes are blinking entirely too fast.”
“Uh, thanks,“ she replied, immediately ceasing her orbital paroxysms. Well, would you find me attractive if I were a man?”
The Prince frowned. “I thought you were a girl.”
“Oh shut-up!” our Knight declared, rolling her eyes. “ Can‘t you tell a tranny when you see one, man?”
“Not always. Once I knew a princess with a glass slipper…”
“Oh yes, the glass-slipper girl…I‘ve heard the rumors.”
“… but she was nothing compared to the frog snogger. One evening, whist engaged in the consumption of sundry dead insects, this 350 pound heifer picks me up and kisses me! And she thinks I’m going to marry her for it - can you imagine? I told her “Frog snogging does not a marriage make!” and walked off. I swear, some people have such a sense of entitlement.”
“Um, what does this have to do with the glass slipper girl?”
“Nothing. It’s information the author slipped in for edification of the storyline. Did I tell you I cast a sleeping spell on Princess Heifer and told Beautiful’s parents about it? They made him go kiss her. If I could have been a fly on the wall - or rather, a frog in the pond eating those flies. So, have you come to pluck me from the bosom of my parents and carry me away to your castle?”
“More or less, I guess, considering I am a Knight. You say you sent Beautiful to wake her?”
“Yes. See that castle over there across the woods?” the Prince asked, pointing to some turrets jutting up from the tree tops. “He’s imprisoned in one of the turrets. He sits there all day, brushing those long flowing brunette locks of his and sewing on that damn machine - the stupid bastard.”
“Why is he a stupid bastard?”
“If you spent all day combing your hair and sewing you’d be stupid too. <in a mock voice> ‘Oh, look at me!’ I’m so beautiful! Look at my long, flowing hair and my pretty brown eyes! Do you like the new apron I made?’”
“You say he‘s imprisoned. What did he do?”
“Oh hang it! It’s the mirror’s fault. I bought this antique glass that was supposed to tell me the fairest in the country. So I ask it “Mirror, mirror on the wall, whose the fairest of them all?” to which is replies “How in the bloody hell am I supposed to know? I’m just a mirror!” but I knew it was him, so I put a spell on him and everyone in his castle.”
“What kind of spell?”
“I don’t know. Just a spell - one of those ‘lock him in the tower until a handsome knight who is really a woman in disguise kills the cave dragon’ sort of enchantment‘. Did you say you were a knight?”
“No. I said I like night. I also like quiet evenings at home and long walks on the beach but that is beside the point. How can this supposed knight kill a dragon when there are no dragons in this story?”
“Why, that’s the very point.”
“But it’s madness! How can you predicate spell-breaking on a non-existent entity?!” Ms Tanya declared, stomping her foot.
“I never said I was sane.”
‘True. True.”
“And why are you so interested anyway?” the Prince asked, raising a froggie-eyebrow at her. “I thought you had come to pluck me from the bosom of my parents.”
“That’s going to be difficult. You’re wedged in tightly between two very large mountain peaks, and those just belong to your father. Why a cave dragon though? Of all places…”
“…because caves are scary,” the Prince whispered, hesitantly “They’re large, moist, dark places, extremely hot and dripping wet, and men who enter them almost never return.”
Our Knight nodded her head knowingly. “Were you abused as a child?”
“No, I don’t think so, but I was a frog then.”
“I see. Well, I’ll be back tomorrow with a crowbar.”
“A crowbar!” The prince proclaimed. “What for?”
“To unwedge you. Till then,” our noble knight replied, and as she walked away she wondered to herself how a Prince could be such a Queen.

LOL, Countess, this is so very fun! Princess Tim Knight Tanya with a crowbar to unwedge him!! :lol: :lol: :lol:

THE MAGIC APRON - Pt 3

At this point in the story, the author, who wishes to remain anonymous, feels compelled to list the actors associated with each role, in order to avoid having to describe them, a task which she compares to enduring several enemas at once. As the most beautiful man in the land (indeed, the entire planet), Prince Beautiful is played by Orlando Bloom. And the author would be remiss if she did not include Jude Law as Prince Charming, since he did such a splendid job portraying Lord Alfred Douglas in the movie “Wilde”. Plus, he’s another hot British guy. Finally, the valiant Knight known as Ms Tanya is depicted by - er - a close friend of the author, who, uh, lives in Florida and writes a lot, although when called upon she can act, though she has never really acted, but the author is certain she could if she were asked, especially if she played opposite Mr. Bloom, whom she fantasizes ab- greatly respects as an actor.
Now back to our story…
After her conversation with Charming, our noble knight returned to Prince Beautiful’s castle, which was located within a pretty green forest and all that other descriptive muck that accompanies such fictional pieces, and called up to him. “Hey-Ho, Prince! I have returned.”
She waited a moment, but her greeting met with no reply, and so she hollered again. “Hey you!”
“Just a minute!” came the answer, and 1 hour later, the handsome prince finally appeared at the window. “Sorry. I was practicing my hair toss,” he panted, demonstrating the move with a calculated wave of his head.
“Your hair toss?” she declared, frowning. “What for?”
“OH, for my audience.”
“You have an audience?”
The Prince sighed - yes, again - and gazed at Ms Tanya in disgust. “You know, I’m really beginning to wonder if you’re smart enough to rescue me. Of course I have an audience! I’m the most beautiful man in the world! And it’s a very demanding job, constantly being called on to toss one’s hair or bare one’s chest. ‘Oh Prince Beautiful, what’s swimming beneath your trousers? Oh Prince Beautiful, show us nipplage!’ The poor peas haven’t had a moment’s rest since they were discovered years ago during auditions,” Prince beautiful remarked, tweaking his own nipples..
“Well they are lovely,” our Knight replied, staring at the small, pointed orbs, “and your areolas are remarkably beautiful, so wide and pink…”
“Oh thank-you….”
“But what am I saying?!” she suddenly interrupted, shaking her head to clear her mind. “I have to kill a cave dragon, and that’s going to be a problem, seeing as there isn’t one in this story.”
“Yes there is,” the prince replied, pointing to some trees. “Right over there.”
“Those are trees, prince,” our valliant hero snorted. “Can’t you tell a tree from a dragon, man?”
“No. Behind them, silly knight,” he countered, as he cleaned his ear out with a Q-tip.
“But I thought there were no dragons in this story?”
“No, YOU said there were no dragons in this story. Stop putting words into my mouth.”
“I haven’t put anything into your mouth!” she declared. “Although…but that is for the X-rated version. “ She was preparing to go into great detail about the adult-themed piece, expounding upon its finer prurient and dissolute points when suddenly there came footsteps from behind, and a man and female emerged from out of the wood. “Who are you?” she muttered furiously, angry that they had interrupted her.
“This is Hansel, and I am Gretel,” the woman replied.
“Aren’t you a little old for two children?” our knight snipped.
“But it’s been several years since the witched tried to burn us,” Hansel retorted. “We’ve been living in the woods since then. We just came to pay our homage to Prince Beautiful. Oh Prince Beautiful!” he cried, yelling up to the handsome man in the window. “What’s that swimming beneath your trousers?”
“Show us nipplage!” Gretel demanded.
Retrieving the .9mm Glock beneath her armor, our splendid heroine raised the gun and shot them dead. “Now then,” she said, returning her gaze to Prince Beautiful. “Where were we?”
Beautiful gasped. “What did you did that for?!” he demanded.
“They interrupted me.”
“Do you shoot everyone who interrupts you?” he inquired.
“Pretty much, but they were extraneous characters, unessential to the plot so nothing is lost.”
The prince snorted. “Just two lives.”
“Oh whatever. Tell me about this cave dragon, will you?”
Prince Beautiful whined. “Oh, I can’t. My manicurist is here. We’re working on developing an ‘English manicure‘ as an answer to the French.”
Ms Tanya smiled. “A hobby of yours? It’s nice to see you have outside interests.”
“Yes - I’m always interested in myself, of course, but I figured as Prince Beautiful I could make a killing off of beauty products and services. Don’t you agree?”
“What an excellent idea!” she enthused.
“Oh, before I go, here, I made something for you,” he said, then reaching into his quarters retrieved a cloth and threw it down to her. “It’s an apron.”
Ms Tanya held it up for inspection. “Oh, it’s lovely. Thanks. I’ll use it when cooking spaghetti,” she remarked.
“You miss the point. It’s a magic apron.”
“Oh,” our Knight Ohed. “What does it do?”
“It’s fireproof. See the label?!
Turning the apron over, Ms Tanya scanned the tag. “It says ‘Made in China…like everything else. We also make universes and natural laws. For details, visit www.ChinaisGod.com.”
“No! Beneath that!”
“Ah, I see now. Fireproof.”
“Made from the finest fibers known to man - my hair,” he boasted, tossing his luxurious, brunette tresses, much to the pleasure of people everywhere, who “Oh’d”, “Ahhed” and “Oi Seed”, which is the phonetic spelling for Japanese, meaning “Oh yeah, baby!”
The two said their good-byes, and Knight Tanya proceeded to the Cave whist Prince Beautiful consulted with the royal manicurist on the topic of English verses French nails.

this is so fun, Countess. You've got a talent for blending smarts, sarcasm and humor that pleases me so! thanks, keep em' coming. :)

Wow, Countess. You should most definately write a book!

Thank you Riesa and Adol. That means alot coming from two gifted writers, but I've given up writing. I'll play in the surf, but I'm tired of writing in a vaccum, seeing as nobody "out there" is interested.

(Writing for oneself is like talking to a wall. After awhile you get tired of being ignored. And trying to get published is like peddling flowers on the street. No one's really interested and most will tell you that up front, but if you manage to get any attention at all, it's pity attention from a charitable soul who feels badly that you are a meaningless person providing meaningless services in an apathetic world.)