Rapunzel gazed dreamily out of her window, her elbows propped up on the stone sill. She had been stuck in her tower made of cold, hard, stone for as long as she could remember. Come to think of it, almost 18 years; it would be her birthday soon. She was hoping that Mother Gothel would take her to see the floating lights this year, she had practically been begging for it since she was 7. Suddenly, she felt her left ear getting wet, wetter, slick with...
"Argh! Pascal! What do you think you're doing, you idiot?!" Rapunzel screeched like a banshee, as she ripped the vibrant green chameleon off her shoulder and hurled him at the opposite wall.
Frantically, she grabbed a nearby cloth and smushed it against her ear, doing her very best to smear off every last bit of that measly lizard's saliva off her ear. Gasping with relief once she had checked in the mirror that all of it was gone, Rapunzel chucked the cloth back with deadly accuracy...right into an empty bucket by the kitchen.
"Yesss!" Rapunzel crowed, punching the air with satisfaction.
"Did you see that, Pascal? I am definitely the best shot that there has ever been!"
Pascal rolled his eyes and started to walk away. Rapunzel glared at him as hard as she could behind him. In her mind, she was boring holes through his stupid, incomprehensible little brain that could not possibly understand her level of talent.
Rapunzel began to list off the countless talents she had in her head. Cooking, painting, flawless aim, playing the guitar, cleaning and singing. See? Countless talents! What more could anyone want? She had mastered every single thing to master, but somehow, Rapunzel wasn't happy. She needed something new.
Brains? you readers may think. Personally I agree, Rapunzel could do with a little less air in her head and fill it with a little more knowledge. Ok, maybe a lot more than a little. But who needs that? Except for Rapunzel, of course. But Rapunzel had a dream. A dream that she wanted to achieve so much, it could be considered ambitious. It was a realistic dream. A huge dream. A fantastic dream. A dream...of being a professional basketball player, being seen on TV by millions across the world! Yes, that's it, reader. Ambitious, isn't it?
Rapunzel snapped out of her wild basketball fantasy. Scrabbling sounds were coming from below the window. Rapunzel hurriedly ran to her dresser and started applying on makeup and straightening her hair. Honestly. You can't look like you're hungover when the mad stranger clawing up your tower could be the prince of your dreams coming to whisk you away to watch the NBAs being held in his palace. Finally finished, Rapunzel scrambled to her window with hopes higher than the sky (or Mother Gothel), only to be greeted with the sight of a scruffed up stranger clutching a satchel.
Rapunzel clenched her fists in annoyance. All her efforts to look pretty, for this? This random dude who did actually look like he was hungover? Or perhaps that was because Rapunzel had already used her security frying pan to knock him out cold. Rapunzel stared down at the man lying unconscious at her feet. He looked quite young. And handsome, now that Rapunzel had noticed. But probably a thug. Oh, Rapunzel knew all about them. People who stole money and valuables, ladies' lingerie and everybody's left shoe (wink wink, Stitch fans).
Turning his body over with her foot, Rapunzel saw once again that suspicious satchel. Holding it at arm's length, she picked it up and watched as a shiny golden hoop with rocks attached to it fall to the ground, clattering on impact. One part is quite shiny, Rapunzel noted. And so is that one. And that one. All of this thing is shiny. It's just...shiny.
Rapunzel strode up to the mirror, Pascal hopping onto her shoulder on the way. What a curious thing this is, Rapunzel thought. What is this? A basketball hoop? Something to sell at the pawn shop? Probably the latter. After a few attempts at using it in all ways imaginable, Rapunzel slumped on a chair, utterly defeated. She was all out of ideas (as if she had any in the first place) and looked desperately to Pascal for guidance, anything at all.
"Well?" Rapunzel snapped, exasperated. Pascal did another massive eyeroll that would surely win first place in the Olympics for eyerolling if there were an Olympics for sass and sarcasm. Rising onto his back feet or whatever you called them, Pascal lazily pointed at the top of his head and mimicked putting on a head ornament.
Rapunzel seized the hoop once more and placed it on her head, where it fitted perfectly, as if it was made for her.
"Ooohhhh..." Rapunzel said, "So that's how it works."
"Impractical for playing basketball though," she added.
Pascal coughed loudly, breaking the silence as Rapunzel was admiring her 'beautiful looks' in the mirror, and pointed at the still unconscious man, who was clumsily propped up against the wall underneath the window. Rapunzel sighed, impatient to get this over with and getting back to vainly admiring herself.
"Come on, Pascal!" she said as she gathered up her heavy blond locks, which had some unwelcome objects entangled in it (e.g. a Pringles can).
"We have some unfinished business."
Author's note: Soo..that's it people! This is the first piece that I've written here and thank you for reading. If you have any feedback, please tell me, I'd really like to hear any suggestions on how I could further improve my writing(I haven't done any creative writing for a while). Hopefully I'll release another chapter of Fairy Tales Retold: Rapunzel soon. Until then..bye!
