A/N: So, I recently read the book The Little Prince, and it was a beautifully crafted one.

I got inspired and wrote this, based on the book.

The beginning will be almost exactly the same, but I promise the plot will curve.

You do not need to have read the book to understand this, but I still do recommend reading it. You won't regret it.

You can read it online for free here: /books/little_

Or, you can read it online for free here: antoine-de-saint-exupery/maly-princ/the-little-prince

I used the second one because it had multiple languages on it.

Enjoy!

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Once, when Alfred was a child of six years, he saw a documentary on the teevee, taken by a glorious field scientist, about the moon. It was featuring a newly discovered moon snake, not unlike a boa constrictor. The announcer had monotonously read about the reptile, and the fuzzy signal on his television showed it nearly swallowing a man.

It had said that, the moon boa, like the boa constrictor, swallowed its prey whole. Moon boas lazed around a lot after that, because their stomachs were really slow or something. Alfred really wasn't paying much attention; a fly had captured it after flitting around his ear for a while.

Child Alfred then proceeded to draw a picture, picture number one, he called it, with a very creative title. His blonde little head was bent over a sheet of paper with a crayon clutched in his grip, until a rather satisfying picture emerged.

He showed his masterpiece to his parents, a proud smile on his face.

"Are ya frightened? I betcha that yer frightened lots!"

He had stated, excited, watching for a telltale wisp of fright on the grown ups' faces.

It never came. Instead, they answered, somewhat annoyed and somewhat confused, "Frightened? Why would we be frightened of a mere key?"

His drawing was definitely not that of a key. It was quite obviously a picture of a moon boa digesting a rocketship. Thinking that his parents were just dull, Alfred drew another picture, cleverly labeled picture number two. It was of the inside of the boa, to give his guardians an extra boost in the right direction.

When he showed the explanatory picture to the grown ups, however, instead of fear and understanding in their eyes, they gently pried the sheet of paper from his needy fingers and chastised him.

"You should learn maths, and language, and science, and history. Then you'll actually be successful!" his old man had said, regarding his drawing with a click of disapproval.

"You'll go far in life, Alfred, I know it, of only you'll stop drawing thoughtless pictures," his mother had chided, and placed the artwork on the kitchen counter with a final-sounding snap.

And that is why Alfred had given up the path to being a brilliant painter, following his parents' ideals and dreams. It was tiring for him to continue explaining what drew him to art after the failures that were the two drawings.

He chose a different profession, and learned to pilot spaceships. He has flown almost all around the solar system; it is true that science has been very useful to him. At a glance, he can distinguish one of Jupiter's moons from one of Neptune's. This information is very useful when flying around.

All throughout Alfred's life he has met a great deal of adults who have been concerned with and only with matters of consequence. He has known a lot of them for a while, as friends and superiors, but that doesn't change his opinion on the topic of grown ups.

When he met a particularly clear-headed grown up, he would give them a test. Alfred would show them his drawing number one, which he had hidden away when he saw what happened to his poor drawing number two and kept in an empty bag of chips inside a pizza box. And then, the grown up, always, would stare at it curiously and ask him the same question:

"Why are you showing me a key?"

And instead of talking about the moon and moon boas and the brilliance of children, Alfred would just answer with a bright, "Oh, I was just showing you a beautiful drawing my niece made!" and continue the conversation. He would talk about matters of consequence, and wars, and American football, and the grown up would compliment him, saying that he was a fine young man.

(In actuality, Alfred had no niece; he had a nephew though.)

He would just nod and thank the grown up, bidding them farewell, and tucking his drawing and disappointment into his coat.

It seems that no one would ever get the meaning behind his drawing.

Yup! So, yeah. This one is a bit deep, because the original was, but it is also for laughs.

This will be about 27 chapters, like the original book, and may go over.

Reviews would be greatly appreciated.

Tak and Best Wishes,

Wannabe-Danish-Cookie