Episode 1.10: 7:15 am
The only stranger in town crouched on the sidewalk outside the Stepford House, trying to look busy. Henry approached him warily. "If you're trying to convince me that you're working on that motorcycle, you could have at least bothered to get out some tools and dirty up your hands a little."
The stranger grinned. "You're pretty sharp, kid."
"And don't you forget it. So, now that we understand each other, are you going to tell me what's in that mysterious box you're hauling around?"
The stranger's eyes hardened. "Hey kid, just because I split up your loving parents and condemned you to a childhood under the thumb of an evil villainess, it doesn't mean that I owe you anything. Anyway, shouldn't you be getting to school right about now?"
"Eh, there's no rush. My teacher is probably still busy stalking my grandpa at the moment."
"I see."
Henry regarded the stranger curiously. "The fact that you don't seem disturbed by that statement tells me I need to keep a close eye on you."
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Your Highness." The stranger sped off without further ado.
Regina ran up and enfolded her son protectively in her arms. "Henry, haven't I told you not to talk to strangers? Wait, no I haven't, because there aren't supposed to be any strangers here." She paled. "Oh crap."
Over at the Princess Pad, Emma awoke to find a luminous blur whirling around her apartment. "The Flash, here in Storybrooke? Who's next, Dr. Frankenstein?"
"No, it's me," Mary Margaret jabbered around a mouthful of toothpaste. "I'm late for my creepy stalk—uh, altruistic volunteer mentoring.
Emma studied her roommate intently. "Is it just me, or is your nose looking a little bigger today?"
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."
"Uh huh. Well, even if I wasn't a human lie detector, there would be no future in lying to me. In case you've forgotten, my very chatty, very nosy son spends every freaking day with you."
"Eep! I'm doomed!" Mary Margaret sobbed, fleeing out the front door. The moment she was gone, Emma took all the coffee and Red Bull out of the cupboards and threw it out the window.
Mary Margaret rushed over to the only diner in town, where she took out the high-powered binoculars Henry had lent her and waited for her true love.
When David walked in, Ruby handed him his coffee with a flirty smile. Mary Margaret ran over and seized her throat in a jealous rage. "How dare you flirt with my secret married lover?! David is strictly a two-woman man, do you hear?"
"Erk!" Ruby choked. "Get a grip, Mary Margaret! I flirt with everyone—it's my gimmick, remember?"
"Oh, right. Sorry." She released her slightly bruised friend, propping the wheezing girl against the counter.
David sidled up to her shyly. "Hey, Eminem. Those new binoculars look great on you."
She smiled coyly. "Thanks. Just for the record, I got them to watch birds and not you."
"Sure you did, honey," said David, scuttling back to his wife's side.
"And if I stare longingly after you when you leave, I'm not checking you out. I'm just overwhelmed with emotion."
"Sure you are, honey," said Emma, popping out of the shadows with her own pair of binoculars. "Eminem, stop being dishonest. You have absolutely no aptitude for it."
"Noted."
"And please quit stalking David. While I'm not the kind of sheriff who likes to get hung up on what's 'legal' and what's not, I'd really hate to have to arrest you."
Mary Margaret bristled. "I'm not stalking him! I simply follow him everywhere he goes, know the intimate details of his daily routine, make lame excuses to talk to him, and occasionally videotape him while he sleeps. If that makes me a stalker, then…oh, hell, maybe I really am related to Henry."
"I think you should end this unhealthy romantic attachment by not showing up here tomorrow," Emma proposed.
"And I think you should end your unhealthy romantic attachment by finally selling that stupid Love Bug," Mary Margaret shot back at her.
"…Stalemate," Emma finally conceded.
In the Enchanted Forest of British Columbia, Snow White was stalking a turkey with a spear. "It seems a little out of character for me to be killing a helpless bird. Oh well. I already went to the trouble to lift this spear, so I suppose it would be a waste not to throw it."
Red Riding Hood suddenly appeared in front of the spear. "Hey, watch it! I'm wearing the brightest shade of crimson imaginable; you have absolutely no excuse for not seeing me."
Blinking as though she'd just woken up from a dream, Snow tossed the spear aside. "Sorry Red. Thanks for stopping me for I committed avicide. I don't know if my fanbase could have recovered from a blow like that."
"I'm here for you, homegirl. Oh, and I brought you another month's worth of supplies." She handed over a single tiny basket of low-cal fruits and vegetables. "Incidentally, I was reading a fascinating book on anorexia the other day…"
"Red, I've already told you, I want to slim down so I can look my best for Charm—uh, for swimsuit season on Woodland Hermit Beach."
"Speaking of the Nameless Wonder, word on the cobblestone street is he's marrying Midas' daughter just like he said he would."
"For some reason, I'm shocked."
Red pulled her friend into a hug. "There, there, it could be worse. You could be living with the traumatic memory of your first love's horrible, gory death at your own accursed hands."
"Love really sucks, doesn't it?" Snow sobbed.
"It would seem that way, yes."
"Well then, let's end our self-destructive dependency on it," Snow White suggested. "There must be some sort of Loverette patch or gum out there to help people like us."
Red considered this. "If there is, it's probably at Rumplestiltskin's pad like everything else that matters."
"Cool, let's go."
"Are you crazy?" Red blurted. "I'm way too clever to ask Rumplestiltskin for help! You're on your own, sister."
Snow paddled her lonely boat across Rumplestiltskin's moat full of dry ice. "Man, this place is creepy. I thought a place called the Dark Castle would be a little more inviting."
The Dark One suddenly Apparated into her boat. "How very odd. I don't remember my castle ever having a moat before. I guess I'd better buy a boat. Is yours for sale, by any chance?"
"No, I borrowed it from my friend Prince Eric, and he needs it back by sunset for his date with that mute chick he picked up."
"Pity. Well, I suppose some introductions are in order. I'm Rumplestiltskin."
"Aren't you a little tall to be Rumplestiltskin?"
"Aren't you a little grungy to be the fairest one of all?" Rumplestiltskin retorted, leering creepily.
"Touche. Well, enough pleasantries. I'm here because I'm trying to kick my pesky love habit."
"Oh, I've been there, dearie. I found smashing stuff to be a very valuable exercise. Have you tried it?"
"Yeah."
"Have you tried getting angry and violent with the True Love in question?"
"And how! I almost drowned him."
"Well, then, did you try severing all contact?"
"Yes, actually."
"Did you try pretending not to care?"
Snow White winced. "I was really hoping to avoid that, if possible."
"Fair enough." He scooped up a vial of moat water. "Here, this ought to make quitting suck less."
The princess' eyebrows shot up. "Are you kidding me? A bottle of dirty water, and not even a very big one? That's what I came all this way for?"
"Hey, who's the Dark One, here?" Rumplestiltskin barked.
"You, sir, sorry, sir," Snow relented.
"That's better." Rumplestiltskin yanked a hair from her head and dunked it in the alleged potion.
"Are you making Polyjuice Potion? What good will that do?"
The Dark One leveled a glare at her. "This isn't Polyjuice. It's a magical elixir that will erase all memories of your true love, and-wait a minute!" He looked down at the potion with renewed interest. "I just realized, I could drink this myself and forget about my tragically dead girlfriend!" He snatched the vial back. "Sorry, dearie, this Anti-Love Potion Number Nine is no longer for sale."
"Hey, no fair! You promised!" Snow White grabbed angrily for the little bottle.
"No, it's mine!" cried Rumplestiltskin, hugging the vial close. "I'm sick of wasting my nights chugging Jack Daniels from that stupid chipped cup!"
The exiled princess pointed over his shoulder. "Hey, is that Emilie de Ravin?"
"Where?!"
"Psych!" She grabbed the potion and swam for her life.
Rumplestiltskin sighed sadly. "Well, at least I got this precious hank of soggy hair out of the deal. I could have always just gone to her house and cleaned out her drain, but this way works too."
Mary Margaret was at the only drugstore in town, filling her basket with Batteries-brand batteries and Cotton Swabs-brand cotton swabs, when she bumped into Kathryn. "Whoops, sorry," she said insincerely.
Kathryn laughed it off. "No trouble. Apollo Bars always taste best when eaten off the floor."
"Stop being so damn reasonable! I'm trying to hate you, here!" Mary Margaret exploded. "Sorry, sorry, it's not your fault. I'm just not cut out for hatred."
"No problem," Kathryn replied easily. "I'll just take my pregnancy test and get out of your hair."
Mary Margaret's eyes widened. "You're having David's baby? I wish I knew what that was like."
Emma came skipping by. "Hey, Mary Margaret, check out this charming box of toothpicks I just found. They're shaped like swords, see?"
"Not now, Emma!"
Regina suddenly popped out of the freezer case behind Mary Margaret. "Caught ya!"
"Ah! Madam Mayor, what are you doing in there?"
"Just restocking the film in some of my spy cameras," said Regina. "While I was in there, I overheard your little confrontation with Kathryn, and I really think you should butt out. If the Nolans are having a baby, that's nobody's business but theirs and mine."
Prince Charming stared sadly out of his window at Neuschwanstein Castle™, while the ren faire of the century raged down below. "Man, being rich sucks even harder than being poor. If only there were some sort of class in the middle that I could join," he sighed wistfully.
His father knocked at the door. "Hey James?"
"That's not my name and you know it."
"Shut up, boy."
"And I'm not a boy. I'm thirty-one."
King George glared, and the temperature in the room dropped substantially. "Why can't you shut up and do as you're told, like your brother Alex Meade?"
"You mean Prince James?"
"Whatever. I just came to bring you your wedding gift from King Midas." He opened a large wooden box, revealing a solid gold Speedo. "I'm sure Abigail will love it on you."
Charming grimaced. "Wasteful extravagance has never looked so cheap."
"Cheer up. I hear he sent your bride a matching bikini."
"But Pops, I don't want to marry a bitter, lonely princess who nags me all the time. I'd rather marry a bitter, lonely princess who drowns me all the time."
The king seized his phony son by the scruff of the neck. "Perhaps I haven't made myself clear. I don't just want you to shut up and do as you're told. I want you to shut up and do as you're told with a smile."
"Yes, sir." The prince plastered on the most charming smile he could muster.
The king slugged him in the face. "Not genuine enough! Try again!"
"Sorry." Luckily, the smack to the mouth had conjured up a lovely memory of his first meeting with Snow White, and a dreamy grin spread across Charming's face.
"Are you thinking about another woman while I'm hitting you, boy?" the king roared angrily.
"No, sir."
"Good. Because a man of high-rank loving a woman he isn't married to, why, that would be simply unheard of!"
The moment the king was gone, Charming ran to his writing desk and pulled out some surprisingly shabby stationary. "Dear Snow," he penned, "I don't want the audience to find out how I feel about you until after commercial break, so I'm going to keep this letter nice and ambiguous until the cameraman loses interest. Wait for it…wait for it…There, that ought to do. Now we can talk."
After he finished the letter, he handed it off to a bird. "Find her, Mr. Feathers! I know that's usually my department, but I'm a little busy at the moment."
Mary Margaret was a little upset by her run-in with her sister wife, and decided to go for a hike in the woods like she always did when she was having man troubles. She didn't get far, though, before she stumbled across a dove tangled in a net. "Oh my gosh! A bird that's not blue? This is incredible! Here, let me get you out of that net."
"Coo!" cooed the bird. Which, in the language of doves, meant, "Get away from me, you stupid human! I promised my boyfriend I'd meet him here for dinner!"
She scooped the squalling bird into her hands. "There, there, my avian amigo. Eminem's here."
The bird squirmed in protest. "Coo!" Which meant, "Mind your own damn business!"
"Aw, I think I've made a new friend!" giggled Mary Margaret obliviously.
Mary Margaret dragged her reluctant pet to the vet. While the doctor examined her, David and Mary Margaret hovered in their neutral corners, trying not to ogle each other. It worked for about five seconds.
"Well," the vet finally pronounced, "the bad news is, there's nothing wrong with this bird, you've torn her from her mate for absolutely no reason, and she's going to end up a lonely old spinster just like you."
"Coo!" the bird squawked, which meant, "I told you so, featherbrain!"
"What's the good news, then?" asked Mary Margaret.
"I'm getting two hundred dollars for doing absolutely nothing." Grinning from ear to ear, the vet handed her a bill.
Mary Margaret glanced from the swindling veterinarian to her cheating boyfriend in dismay. "It's no wonder I prefer the company of birds to humans," she sighed.
"Coo!" cried the dove, meaning "Screw you!"
"Aw, I love you too," cooed Mary Margaret, nuzzling the bird's feathers tenderly. "Come on, let's go get your man back before he finds himself another woman and gets tied down to a nest full of eggs." She said the last part while glowering at David.
David was perplexed and confused. "Mary Margaret, I really don't think you should be going out while the weather and your mood are both so erratic."
"If I was the type to let little things like that stand in my way, you'd still be floating face-down in the river," she reminded him.
"Hm, good point. Well, at least let me drive you. I can't promise that we'll get caught in the rain together and have to cling to each other for warmth, but it does look promising."
"Dude, you're married."
"Oh, right. That." David pouted.
Emma was loading up her squad car with a stack of emergency umbrellas donated by Archie Hopper, when Regina came over, wearing her mighty Glare of Evil. The savior sighed. "I know that look. If you're looking to have me thrown in jail again, I'm afraid arresting myself might prove to be a little awkward."
"No, Sheriff Swan, this glare is meant for that strange smug, cryptic, leather-clad man. Not Gold, I mean—the new one."
"Oh, yeah, I talked to him last night. Or at least I tried to. He's kind of a dead end, conversationally speaking."
"Well, he gives me the heebie-jeebies, and that leather jacket and motorcycle of his obviously mean he's some sort of rebel." Regina shuddered.
Emma chuckled. "What's the matter? Are you afraid that there's something in that mysterious box of his that will one day prove to be the key to your undoing?"
"N-n-no, of course not, that would be ridiculous," the mayor stammered uneasily.
The savior gave her a friendly slap on the back. "Then relax! This town could use a new attractive bachelor after Graham's unfortunate demise."
"But Sheriff Swan, you don't understand how evil this man is." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "That scumbag was talking to Henry!"
The sheriff froze. "Talking? Are you sure?"
"I saw it with my own two eyes! Their lips were moving and everything!"
Emma was appalled. "That sick monster! Who does he think he is?"
"Hopefully no one magical," Regina muttered.
Mary Margaret's hulking SUV thundered through the forest like a charging bull. "This ought to scare up plenty of birds. And if it doesn't, I'll rent an elephant."
"Coo," squawked the dove, meaning, "Damn doo-gooder."
Snow White sat alone in the wilderness thinking, because that's what hermits do. "Hm," she mused thoughtfully, looking down at her hard-won vial of Anti-Love Potion Number Nine. "Maybe I should be a sport and give this back to Rumplestiltskin. After all, I'm young and hot and should have no trouble finding love again, but there's no way in hell he's going to find another woman who can see past those teeth of his. Then, on the other hand, who knows when I'll get the chance to experience magically-induced amnesia again? Oh, decisions, decisions!"
A bluebird wearing an adorable little postman's hat swooped out of the sky and dropped a letter in her lap. The princess sighed. "This had better not be another damned chain letter." Taking her chances, she opened it up.
Dearest Snow, the letter read. I don't want the audience to find out how I feel about you until after commercial break, so I'm going to keep this letter nice and ambiguous until the cameraman loses interest. Wait for it…wait for it…There, that ought to do. Now we can talk. Since my so-called father objects to my secret love for you, I think the best thing for us to do is meet and declare our undying affection in the middle of his well-guarded fortress. PS, if you do not forward this letter to ten more people, your mother will drop dead tomorrow."
"No signature?" Snow looked the missive over curiously. "Well, I suppose since Charming's the only guy I've ever even come close to dating, it's safe to assume this is from him. Yay!" Snow glanced down at the potion bottle in her hand. "Looks like I won't be needing this anymore, but I guess I'll hang onto it for a while anyway. Red could probably do with a hefty dose." Her eyes sparkled. "And if I could slip some to Regina, why, this whole epic feud of ours would be over! I wonder if Rumplestiltskin sells this stuff in bulk?"
Mary Margaret slammed on her brakes when she happened across a road closure sign. "A little aluminum sign? I could easily run that down with my big, hulking SUV, but I'm way too goody-goody for that." She picked up the birdcage. "Come on, Pidge. It looks like we're walking."
"Coo!" said the bird, meaning, "Aw man, we're gonna die and I never even got a chance to meet Big Bird!"
Snow White approached the gate guard at King George's castle with her hood pulled discreetly over her head. "Hi, there! I've brought a gift from King Midas. Magical flowers that don't wilt or wither, even after a transnational journey on foot."
The gate guard consulted a wanted poster. "Hey, I know you. You're that Snow White chick!" He drew his sword. "Get her, boys!"
Snow kept her cool. "Ridiculous. That picture looks nothing like me. I'm wearing a hood and she isn't, see?"
"You've got me there," the guard admitted. "How about a test? If you're one of King Midas' subjects, then what's the name of your kingdom?"
"Uh…Midasland?"
The guard frowned. "Lucky guess."
Victorious, Snow White ran upstairs to her meet her quasi-prince. "Well, now that I'm safely inside, with plenty of hostile guards and a king who's out to get me, I guess it's safe to discard both my disguise and my excuse for being here." She tossed her cloak and basket out the window.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway. "Charming?" Snow began to panic. "I can't let him see me like this! I haven't even had a chance to fix my makeup yet." The princess dove behind a column.
A guard seized her from behind. "Freeze, cloakless dirtbag!"
"Darn," muttered Snow. "I knew I shouldn't have left my spear at home."
"What's this?" The guard snatched Charming's letter, skimming it in disbelief. "I'm afraid feeling affection for the heir to the throne is a capital offense in this kingdom. Not even the king's allowed to do it. To the Bastille with you!" He dragged her down to the dungeons every structure in the Enchanted Forest seemed to be adjoined to.
When they reached the dungeon, Snow White halted her pointless struggling to ask a question. "If I told you I was Snow White, would that make my situation better or worse?"
"Get in the damn cell."
Snow stomped petulantly into the dank, dark cage. "This is the worst date I've ever been on," the princess grumbled, "even worse than that one that was crashed by trolls!" The princess took a deep breath. "Okay, Snow, calm down. There's got to be an escape tunnel. There's always an escape tunnel." She started feeling around on the floor.
"Nobody knows the trouble I've seen. Nobody knows my sorrow…" sang a lonely voice in the darkness.
Snow's eyes lit up. "Zazu? My feathered friend, is that you?"
A burly dwarf stepped into the light. "No, my name's Grumpy at the moment."
"Oh. Well, nice to meet you, but I should really be going now." She flung herself against the bars with a mighty clang. "Ow."
"Sister, if a bundle of ugly muscle like me couldn't break through those, what makes you think a scrawny little girl can do it?"
"I have the power of love on my side!" Snow declared grandly, charging the door only to end up with her head lodged between the bars. "Ow. It seems that the power of love has been greatly exaggerated."
The dwarf grimaced. "Love? Hasn't anyone invented a patch or gum for that little affliction yet?"
"You too, huh?" said Snow, pulling herself free of the slightly dented bars.
"Oh yeah." Grumpy sighed wistfully. "My girl was as beautiful as a fairy. Probably because she was a fairy."
"Makes sense."
"Anyway, some lady told me to run away with her, so I did. Then some other lady told me to dump her, so I did. Then some guy told me to buy her a stolen diamond, so I did. Then some cop told me to get in this cell, so I did."
"You have serious trouble asserting yourself, bro," Snow observed.
"I'm working on it, I'm working on it!" Grumpy snapped defensively. "Self-confidence would probably come a lot easier if I wasn't in chains, though."
"I guess that's my cue." A dwarf in head-to-toe camouflage popped out of nowhere.
"Peeta?"
"No, it's me, Stealthy."
"Even better!"
"The rest of the guys are outside yodeling, which has scared off all the guards, and we've prepared a getaway car…t." Stealthy snatched the keys from a nearby terrier and opened Grumpy's cell. "You ready to go home?"
"I'd rather go to the nearest bar, but I suppose beggars can't be choosers," sighed Grumpy, following his bro.
"Okay, I guess I'll just stay here, then," said Snow cheerfully. "Don't worry your pretty little heads about me. I'll probably die of a broken heart before the rats get a chance to eat me alive."
Stealthy's eyes widened. "Wow, who's the hottie?"
Grumpy glared. "What have I told you about falling in love?"
"Don't do it until someone invents a patch?"
Meanwhile, Snow was dancing wistfully in her cell, bluebirds circling around her head as she sang. "Someday my 'prince' will come. Someday he'll spring his love. And how epic that heist will be! When my 'prince' comes for me…"
Grumpy stared at her in disbelief. "Where did you get those bluebirds?"
"They found me. They will always find me," said the princess, twirling dreamily.
Grumpy groaned. "I can't let you die. A freaking Nazi couldn't let you die!"
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Snow wondered aloud.
Annoyed, Grumpy snatched the keys from his bro and opened her cell. "You can come with us, but we're not taking the birds."
"Do you hear that? It's your flock!" Mary Margaret told her reluctant pet excitedly.
"Coo, coo!" cooed the dove. Which meant, "No, that's a thunderclap. Get your ears checked, you dumb biped!"
Mary Margaret peered over a cliffside. "A big, gaping hole in the ground? Sounds like the perfect place to search for creatures of the sky. Wait here, Pidge. I'm going in for a closer look."
"Coo," sighed the dove, meaning, "If you're going to get yourself killed, can you at least let me out of this cage first?"
Sure enough, Mary Margaret fell over the cliff and was left clinging to a convenient root. "A literal cliffhanger?" she gasped. "Pfft, real original."
Luckily, David had also taken up stalking recently, and happened along before anything tragic could happen. "Hey, baby. How's it hanging?"
"That was lame. Can you give me a hand, here?"
David grinned. "A damsel in distress? I'm all over that!" Tearing open his shirt and tossing his hair majestically, he grabbed her hand and hauled her back over the ledge.
"David? What are you even doing here?" she panted. From the exertion and not the physical contact with David, of course.
"I was worried you'd do something stupid like get caught in the rain or accept treats from strangers, so I came after you," he explained.
"Oh." She stood up and dusted herself off. "Well, as hypocritical as this may sound coming from me, you shouldn't have followed me."
"Gotcha. You're welcome for saving your life, by the way."
The much-anticipated rain came pouring down, but Mary Margaret ignored it. "Eh, nuts to my life! The life of a pigeon with a man is worth far more than the life of a woman without a man." She cradled her bird's cage protectively.
David's eyebrows shot up. "First the cliff incident, now this? Mary Margaret, have you been hanging around with Bella Swan again?"
"You're a little mixed up. I hang around with Emma Swan."
"Phew, that's a relief. Now come on, let's find a warm place with low, romantic lighting to ride out this storm."
Stealthy led Snow White and Grumpy through the—you guessed it—escape tunnel. "This place sure is spooky," the dwarf whispered. "I'm glad the king was at least thoughtful enough to light the way for us with torches."
"Hey Stealthy?" Snow ventured. "I don't want to be a backseat bandit or anything, but you're going the wrong way. Maybe we should stop and ask for directions."
"Women," snorted Stealthy, not slowing his pace.
Snow White rolled her eyes. "Grumpy, you're not really going to follow this guy, are you? His shirt's redder than a poisoned apple!"
Grumpy shrugged apologetically. "Sorry lady. But given my aversion to falling in love, I can't afford to run off alone with a beautiful woman. It's just too risky." He took off after his bro.
They emerged into the courtyard and found it deserted. "Score!" squealed Stealthy. "This is just like Cool Hand Luke. But don't worry, there's no way this prison break will end in death like his did."
"Think again, loser," sneered King George, emerging from the darkness with several guards.
Stealthy broke into a run. "Don't worry, Grumpy, we can outrun them! We've got freakishly long legs for dwarves."
"Stealthy, no!" Grumpy screamed. "You can't afford to take any risks in that shirt of yours!"
But it was too late. An archer had already launched an arrow straight at his heart. "Hey, that's cheating," Stealthy protested, crumpling to the ground.
Grumpy gathered his bro in his arms. "Stealthy, you idiot! If you were planning on getting shot up, you could have at least worn some armor."
"I tried, but I couldn't risk the armor check penalty." Without further ado, Stealthy dropped dead.
"Idiot," muttered the king. "Now spill it, Dwarf Number Two! Where's Snow?"
"How do you know she was with us?" Grumpy challenged. "Maybe she escaped on her own."
"Pfft. You think I don't know a damsel in distress when I see one?"
Grumpy glowered up at the king. "You know, if interrogation was your goal, you could have shot Stealthy in the leg and had two witnesses to question."
"Wise guy, eh?" The king's eyes hardened. "I don't take kindly to being made to look like a fool. I get enough of that from Rumplestiltskin! Now you die!"
"I don't think so, loser!" Snow popped out of a heap of straw. "You can't kill my friend. He's got a long, rich life full of slave labor and crippling emotional pain ahead of him, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let you take that away from him." She held up a torch. "Now let him go, or I'll set your precious pile of straw on fire!"
"No!" screamed the guards.
"You wouldn't dare!"
"You villain!"
The king took a copy of Disney's Snow White and the Seven Dwarves out of the pocket of his regalia and glared at it. "It seems I've been grossly misinformed about the whole 'damsel in distress' thing." He nodded to his stooges. "Let the man go."
"Snow, did you seriously just sacrifice yourself for a guy you met five minutes ago?" Grumpy's face reddened. "I feel guilty about even contemplating leaving you in that cell. I'm off to find a confessional and relieve my guilty conscience." He donned a rosary and slunk into the night.
"Well, Snow," said King George, casually kicking the dead body at his feet aside, "now that that's out of the way, I think you and I should have a little chat."
"The kind with tea and cookies, or the kind with racks and torture chambers?"
"We'll see."
David and Mary Margaret finally stumbled across the only cabin in Storybrooke. "Hello?" Mary Margaret tapped on the windows. "Is this Love Shack vacant?"
David opened the door. "If the owner's stupid enough to leave it unlocked, I figure it's fair game."
Mary Margaret followed him inside, shivering violently. "I don't know about this, David. Two lovers meeting secretly in an abandoned cabin in the woods while a storm rages outside? It sounds like the intro to every bad horror flick ever made."
The recovering amnesiac just laughed. "What are you suggesting? That this place is the secret hideout of some creepy psycho who binds and gags unwitting townspeople, drags them out here, and then tries to beat them to death with his cane?"
"Sorry," Mary Margaret apologized. "I'm just a little nervous. I mean, breaking and entering? This has got to be the naughtiest thing I've ever done."
David grinned. "Well, I can fix that, no problem! Let me rustle up a cozy, romantic fire for us. You check the bedrooms for lingerie." He coughed nervously. "Uh, so you can get out of those wet clothes, I mean."
When the search proved to be fruitless, David had to settle for wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. Mary Margaret shrank away. "Ugh, cooties!"
"Hey, I thought women liked a cuddler?"
"Women like single cuddlers. Not happily married ones that they have to risk death to get a moment alone with," Mary Margaret retorted bitterly. "Before I met you, I was in the running for Goody-Two-Shoes of the Year! Now look at me! I've turned into Eponine-freaking-Thenardier!"
"Wait a minute. You've been stalking me?"
"You just figured that out? Man, you're dense." She burst into tears. "And it's so damn adorable!"
David didn't reply, just took a pair of high-powered binoculars and a map to her house out of his jacket pocket. She stared up at him in disbelief. "You too?"
"You know it, baby. So, now that our romantic theme music is playing again, aren't we long overdue for a makeout scene?" he wheedled, leaning in to meet her lips
"Hell yeah, baby…no, wait." She pulled back dizzily, looking extremely dazed. "There's something I'm supposed to say here…something about you being…accepting? Electing?"
"Expecting?" David supplied.
"That's it."
"Oh." His eyeballs nearly popped out of his head. "Eep!"
A soaking-wet Emma ducked into the only diner in town with her tail between her legs. "I had no idea there would be water involved in this storm everyone's been talking about. Maybe I should have hung onto one of those umbrellas from Hopper?" Her eyes fell on the back of the head of the only stranger in town. "Wait a minute. I'd know that generic haircut and color anywhere. It's…" She frowned. "What the hell is your name, anyway?"
"It's Bae," the stranger replied.
"That's a weird name, are you serious?"
"No. It's actually Peter Pan."
"Okay, now you're just screwing with me."
"True."
"And it's really annoying!"
"I'll bet."
"I hate you!"
"I noticed." The stranger smirked.
Emma banged her head repeatedly against a nearby wall. "I don't need this aggravation, man! Is it true you were talking to Henry? You should know that his mother doesn't approve of him talking to anyone but her."
"And since when do you support that policy?"
"Hm, good point." The sheriff relaxed slightly. "But why were you outside his house?" Her eyes narrowed. "Were you planning to sneak in for some kind of illicit liaison with the mayor? Because the last guy who tried that ended up dying horribly."
The stranger blanched. "Ew, no! I was simply repairing my motorcycle with my bare hands. I'm sure there's nothing suspicious about that, is there?"
"No. What's suspicious is the fact that you came to Storybrooke voluntarily. This place is a gloomy, oppressive dump, in case you haven't noticed."
The stranger shrugged. "It beats the inside of a closet."
"Huh?"
"It'll all make sense later."
Emma collapsed wearily into the seat beside him. "This conversation is giving me motion sickness. Can we finish it, please?"
"Sure. Sit down and let me buy you a drink."
"Oh, hell yes. Make it a five gallon bucket of McCutcheon's." Emma breathed gratefully. "Now, then, as sheriff, I have a legal duty to ask you if there's a bomb in that mysterious box of yours."
"Since when do you care about what's legal?"
"Answer the damn question or I'm going home for my chainsaw!"
"Fine. I swear on my mother's varnish that there is no bomb in the box."
"Well, what is in the box, then?"
"Oh, nothing that ruined your life," he replied a little too innocently.
"Come on, tell me!" Emma whined. "Leroy's running a pool on the contents of that box, and I bet the farm on 'insect collection.' Hopper and all the nuns were furious, for some reason."
"Sorry to disappoint you," he apologized, opening the case, "but it's just a typewriter. I'm a writer, you see, like all the talented folks at ABC."
Emma blinked. "A typewriter? Are those still a thing?"
"So it would seem." He picked up his box of obsolescence and left.
"Hey, wait!" Emma yelled. "Where's my bucket of McCutcheon's?"
"Aren't you on duty?"
"Oh, right," Emma sulked. "The law thing again."
Back at the Love Shack, David had begun hyperventilating. "I'm going to be a dad? But how? Mary Margaret, did you take advantage of me while I was in that coma?"
"No, I'm talking about Kathryn. She hasn't told you she thinks she's pregnant? That's odd. Telling the guy when you're still uncertain and haven't even taken the test yet seems like the logical thing for a woman in her situation to do."
David pulled out an inhaler and took a long puff. "This is unreal. I'm not ready to be a father yet!" His cellphone suddenly started ringing, and he picked it up. "Emma? No, I can't go fishing with you today, I'm busy right now!"
"You really didn't know?" Mary Margaret asked skeptically.
"Hasn't TV taught you anything?" David wailed miserably, tossing his phone aside. "The father is always the last to know!"
"Coo!" Mary Margaret's bird suddenly screeched, meaning, "Hey, remember me?"
Mary Margaret facepalmed. "Oops, sorry Pidge!" She scooped up the cage and ran outside. "Let's get you back to your airborne Adonis before it's too late!"
David was left standing alone in the cabin. "My life is still crumbling to pieces all around me if anyone cares."
His girl ignored him, cradling the dove tenderly in her hands. "There, now, I know this will be a difficult parting for you, but in the end, it will be for the best. No matter how much you may love and worship me, you must—hey!" Fed up, the bird bit her finger and zoomed into the dying storm, flying lazy circles around a second dove. Mary Margaret beamed. "Aw, just look at them. Like two sparrows in a hurricane, trying to find their way. Hm, that's catchy. I should write that down."
David smiled adoringly. "My girl's such a romantic."
"You mean Kathryn?" said Mary Margaret pointedly.
David groaned. "Damn it, why do we keep coming back to her? Just because I'm married to her, it doesn't mean I have to love, honor, and cherish her, or forsake all others to keep myself only for her, or anything drastic like that."
Mary Margaret stared at him in disbelief. "Do you even remember your wedding day?"
"Yes, as I recall, it was a magical day full of romance and gloating mayors. But that doesn't change the fact that you're incredibly hot."
"David, this isn't Big Love and I'm not Margie Heffman. You can't have two and still be true, so go dump your wife or I'm leaving on the midnight train."
"Storybrooke doesn't have a train," David reminded her mildly.
She sniffled sadly. "Then I guess I'll just slink off into the woods crying."
King George bravely interrogated Snow White alone and unarmed, without bothering to restrain her in any way. "So, you're the little skank who stole my alleged son's heart. How'd you do it?"
"Head trauma and oxygen deprivation," Snow explained. "Oh, and a healthy dose of insults."
"Playing hard-to-get, huh? Well, I guess I can't argue with results." He snapped his fingers sarcastically. "Oh, wait, actually I can. Violently."
"Cut me a break, Your Majesty!" Snow pleaded. "I can't help my feelings for your son! I mean, it's not as if I have some sort of magic potion lying around that would banish them forever." She felt around in her pocket surreptitiously.
"Then I guess it's time to break out the guillotine!"
"Ah!" She took out the potion, which was suddenly looking like her best option.
"Oh, no, the guillotine's not for you," said the king. "It'd never be able to hack through that clunky fur collar you're wearing. No, I'll kill your dude instead."
"You'd kill James? Shame on you! I'm the only one who's allowed to try that!"
"His name's Honeymuffin." King George corrected. "And really, I think I'd be doing him a favor. Living with a name like that is no life at all. Now get in there and break his heart or I'll have to stab him in it."
Snow White skulked unhappily into her prince's bedchamber and found him busy packing. "Sword? Check. Cape? Check? Solid gold Speedo? Ugh, check, I guess."
Snow cleared her throat. "Yo, honeymuffin?"
"Snow!" he cried happily, sweeping her into a hug so tight it almost qualified as abuse. "You're here!"
"Yeah, I've been looking over your shoulder for like, ten minutes now. You've got the reflexes of a slug. How the hell did you ever kill that dragon?"
He caressed her cheek lovingly. "Oh, I've missed your verbal abuse so much! Are you ready to go? I've booked us a ride with Disney Cruise Lines."
Snow sighed. "Charming, I can't…" She bit her tongue. "Before I finish that sentence, could I see you in this solid gold Speedo just once?"
"Baby, please don't objectify me like that. What's wrong?"
"What's wrong is…I'm thirsty after my journey here." Snow pulled out the vial she'd swiped from Rumplestiltskin. "Would you join me in a drink?"
Charming shoved the bottle aside. "No need. Our room comes with a complimentary champagne basket."
"You're not going to make this easy for me are you? Fine, here it goes." She took a deep breath, as if bracing for a blow. "Ihateyourroyalgutsandwecanne verbetogether."
Charming frowned. "Come again?"
"I, er, don't love you." Snow choked out. "My heart doesn't skip a beat every time I see your beautiful face. I don't dream of you every time I close my eyes. Oh, and I totally don't spend my days doodling 'Mr. and Mrs. Charming Forever' in my diary."
Wounded, Charming held up a well-worn journal. "I do."
"Sucks to be you." Snow ducked her head to hide her tears.
Prince Charming regarded her doubtfully. "I'm sorry, but I don't buy this. If you really feel nothing for me, why did you come all this way and risk your life to see me? And why are you crying like someone just made squab out of your favorite bluebird? And why can't you seem to keep your eyes off my leather-clad backside?"
Seeing that she was fighting a losing battle, Snow broke out the big guns. "Hey, Charming? Remember that time I tried to bash your head in? I was picturing Prince Naveen's face under my rock the whole time!"
"How can you say that?" Charming burst into tears. "You're lying! You're lying!"
"I mean every word."
"NOOOOOOO!"
Over at the Nolan home, David and Kathryn were sitting in uncomfortable silence. Again. "Baby, say something—anything!" David begged. "I'm freezing to death over here."
"What do you suggest?" Kathryn snapped. "We have no common interests, no chemistry, and no emotional attachment to one another. Why did we even get married in the first place?"
David shrugged. "Beats the hell out of me. Maybe we were drunk for the duration of our courtship and wedding?"
Kathryn shuddered. "Then it's a good thing I'm not pregnant. The kid would have been genetically doomed to a lifetime of alcoholism."
Her husband froze. "Say what?"
"I'm not pregnant."
Tears of joy streamed down David's face. "Oh, Kathryn. Do you have any idea how long I've waited to hear you say those words?" He flung his arms around her. "You've made me the happiest man alive!"
Kathryn patted his back awkwardly. "Um, you're welcome. Now, about our crumbling marriage. I really think we should go see the only shrink in town and get some counseling. While Dr. Hopper's never been married or even touched a female as far as I know, it's him or nothing."
David smiled through his tears. "Baby, if you'll say those three magical words for me again, I'll do whatever you want."
"Uh…I'm not pregnant?" said Kathryn hesitantly.
"Oh, thank you!" He pulled out his phone and pushed a couple of buttons. "Would you mind saying it one last time so I can record it? I think I've found a new custom ringtone."
"Fine, whatever. I'm not pregnant," Kathryn repeated tiredly.
"Hee hee!" David played it back with undisguised glee. "Thanks baby. I know you don't love me and I don't love you, but since we're stuck with each other, I guess I might as well try to make the best of it."
"That's the most romantic thing you've said to me in years, David. How depressing is that?"
Snow White staggered through the dark woods, crying. Grumpy and his comrades approached her tentatively. "You all right, sister?"
"Oh, sure. I always stagger through darkened forests and sob when I'm happy," Snow bawled angrily. "You newfangled dwarves may not be undersized, but your brains sure as hell must be!"
"There, now, it's not all bad. I've been looking to start a new chapter of the Lonely Hearts Club for years now." Grumpy swung an arm around her shoulders. "Looks like I've finally found myself a vice-president."
Snow's eyes lit up. "You know, that's actually not a bad idea." She took the vial of magical elixir from her pocket. "Our first group activity should be to storm Rumplestiltskin's castle and score a lifetime supply of Anti-Love Potion Number Nine for every member!"
"Snow, what are you thinking?" Grumpy admonished. "Magic isn't the answer. You need to resolve your emotional issues in a healthy way, like heavy drinking or constant surliness."
"But I…"
Grumpy took her gently by the shoulders. "Come on, Snow, be strong. Just say no to draughts!"
"Okay," Snow relented. "But for the record, this feels like peer pressure to me."
"Atta girl," chirped Doc. "Now why don't you come crash at our place for a while? You look like you could use a buddy or seven."
"Snow White and the seven dwarves?" Snow said aloud. "I like the sound of that."
Over at the Princess Pad, Mary Margaret was sobbing bitterly into David's old hospital gown. Emma squeezed her hand sympathetically. "Don't worry, Eminem, you'll kick this thing yet. Here, have a stick of Doublemint. Sometimes it helps."
"Hi ho, Silver!" cried Prince Charming, spurring his tacky white horse on. "You know, I ride pretty well for a guy who was a peasant until a couple of weeks ago. I guess I'm just a natural prince at heart." He pulled up in front of a little cottage. "Hey, Snow? I know you're in there! I stuck a tracking chip on you when I had you trapped in that net!"
Ruby wandered outside. "Who the hell are you?"
"I'm Ja—uh, Char—uh, Honey—oh, I don't even remember anymore! I'm Snow White's man and that's good enough for me!"
"Really? Good luck with that. According to her latest postcard, she just shacked up with seven men."
He quirked an eyebrow. "Wow. I guess it's always the innocent-looking ones. Well, no matter. I will always find her. It's my catchphrase and everything, so I don't really have a choice."
Grumpy came running into the dwarves' house toting a portable TV. "Snow, guess what?" he yelled eagerly. "According to TMZ, the royal wedding has been called off due to mutual incompatibility and insufficient metallicity." He hugged his friend excitedly. "I'm so happy for you! Looks like I'll need to find myself a new VP, but that's okay. Your true love is more important."
"True love?" said Snow White drunkenly, taking another swig from her little potion bottle. "What's that? A new fragrance by Calvin Klein?"
Grumpy's face fell. "Aw, damn it."
Mary Margaret stood in line getting coffee at the only diner in town. "Thanks, Ruby. Can you add a couple of shots of McCutcheon's to this? I'm having a rough morning."
"I think it just got rougher." Ruby pointed to the doorway, where David was standing, garbed in a T-Shirt reading, "Baby Not on Board!"
David turned tail and ran like a fire-breathing dragon was chasing. Mary Margaret dashed after him. "David! Get back here and talk to me so I can tell you to stop talking to me!"
He stopped in his tracks, sighing defeatedly. "Mary Margaret, I know we agreed not to see each other anymore, but unless one of us moves, I don't think that goal is realistic. In case you haven't noticed, this town is smaller than a freaking sound stage."
Mary Margaret groaned. "Going cold turkey is a lot easier said than done. Do you happen to have any Doublemint on you, David?"
"No, but I do have some news. My wife's not pregnant!"
Mary Margaret brightened. "Really? That's wonderful! I can handle dating a man with a wife, but a man with a child? That would have been a deal-breaker." She flung her arms around his neck. "I think I feel a relapse coming on."
Across the street, Regina was testing the range of her mighty Glare of Evil. "That little tramp! How dare she have someone to make out with while I'm all alone? This means war!"