Alright, so, the truth?
You want the truth?
Well, honey, you can't handle the truth.
However, I can handle you not handling the truth.
So I was having my day off, I had gotten a sharp blade, and my wrist was just begging to be cut.
I'm a closet emo.
All Fairy Godmothers have to have an outlet after the bratty twits they help.
So, there I was, about to cut my wrist, when…
Ring. Ring. Ring.
My cell phone will burn in hell along side me.
"Hullo?" I slurred into the phone, for I had also, for the benefit of the story, been drinking an apple martini.
"Right, well, Ann, you've got a #4632."
"Ravenous frogs?"
"No, no, the other #4632"
"TIH?"
"That's the one."
"Ug, Lizzy, it's my night off."
"She's real sweet Ann."
"As I recall, TIH stands for Twit-in-hysterics"
"Please Ann?"
"No."
"Thanks Ann! I'm taking you there now."
I hate my sister sometimes.
So, in a second, there I was.
In a sickeningly charming garden, in my pink robe, holding a razor to my wrist.
Great.
"Oh, girl? Come on out girl. I'm your Fairy Godmother."
The quicker, the better.
"You sure don't look like a 'Fairy Godmother'"
Came the snide reply, and out strode Cinderella.
She was ugly, she had a torn, too big, red dress on.
And worst of all, she had blond hair.
I don't work with blonds.
"Well…sweetie, I am, and I'm here to help you."
"Really?"
She was a pushover, this would be easy.
"Yes, now tell me what 'ya want and I'll make it come true."
"With a magic wand?"
"No. With the razor."
"Oh."
"So spit it out dear, hearts desires."
Cinderella took a deep breath.
"I want; tobethemostgorgeousgirlinthekingdomandtohavetheprincefallinlovewithmeatfirstsightandtohaveagooorgeousdressandtheprettiestshoesintheworldandareallyprettyhorsetogetmetotheballandfortheprettynessonmetoneverwearoff."
I let that sink in for a second, yea Liz, this ones a winner.
"Well honey, I usually don't grant these kinds of requests, but in this case, with you being such a sweet and selfless girl, you get it all."
Cinderella beamed.
"So, have fun, Cindy."
With a wave of my magic razor, she was gorgeous, I was home, and the news paper (early edition) was at my door.
'Mysterious Beauty, Runs from Ball in Peasant Cloths, Prince Searching for Her.'
Oops.
