Episode 1.13: What Happened to Frederick

Princess Abigail's medieval limo rolled to a stop in the middle of the Enchanted Forest of British Columbia. "Princess Abigail!" King George fawned shamelessly, helping her down the steps of her carriage, because the Royal Footman had been repossessed.

"King George," the princess sighed, "why did you insist on meeting me out here in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of armed thugs? Are you planning a hit on me?"

"No, I only murder poor people," George replied cheerfully. "Speaking of which, it's a pleasure to welcome your big, fat trust fund to our treasury."

"Yes, I see you've spent the lion's share of it on wanted posters. Anybody I know?" Abigail tried to examine one of the posters that were wallpapering the tree trunks of the Enchanted Forest, but George tackled her and clamped a hand over her eyes.

"No! Just…uh…that rascal Robin Hood," the king fibbed inexpertly. "With the legendary Stealthy out of the picture, Hood's at the top of our nameless nation's most wanted list. Now then, why don't you go home and sing, or daydream, or whatever else princesses do until time for the funeral?"

"Don't you mean, until time for the wedding?"

"Right, right. In preparation for your visit, I've taken the liberty of burning every gossip rag and shooting every paparazzo in the kingdom. So if you chance to hear any rumors about my son and some chick named Snow, it's probably just the Reporters' Guild out for revenge." He shoved her back into her carriage and hastily nailed the door shut behind her.

"If this is how you receive all foreign dignitaries, then it's no wonder your kingdom is falling apart," he heard Abigail's muffled voice grumble.

"Keep giving me lip and it could be your face plastered on a wanted poster." The king brightened. "Actually, that's not a bad idea. Wanted posters seem to be one of my son's turn-ons. Seeing you like that might make him more enthusiastic about this match." He whistled for a flunky. "You there, get me the Royal Graphic Designer!" He took out his cellphone and dialed the Queen's number. "Hey, Reg? I need a favor. My non-biological child has turned against me and gone on the run. I figured if anyone could understand it would be you." There was a pause. "Thanks. Listen, I hear you've got a huntsman who takes care of these situations? Okay fine, a Huntsman, whatever. His track record isn't good, you say?" The king sighed. "I guess I'll just have to keep searching on my own. Thanks anyway."

Meanwhile, Quasi-Prince Charming was being pursued on horseback by the Legions of Evil, as usual. "Man, being a fugitive isn't nearly as easy as Snow made it look," he panted.

"Stop or we'll shoot!" one of his pursuers threatened.

"Go ahead," the quasi-prince dared with a smirk.

Incensed, the soldiers raised their bows and let a barrage of arrows fly at him, but the projectiles bounced harmlessly off of both him and his mount. Charming laughed. "Heh heh! Don't you guys ever go to the movies? Enlisting in a Legion of Evil automatically confers a crippling hand-eye coordination disorder on you!"

"Aw, man, we've been Stormtroopered!"

The quasi-prince spurred his horse on, jumping over a variety of obstacles and running a few circles around his pursuers for good measure. "Whew, I'm good at this. If only I'd known, I could have saved the farm by becoming a rodeo star, instead of this stupid identity theft scheme."

A sleeper dart suddenly barreled out of nowhere and struck him in the neck. "Ow!" Charming cursed. "That's cheating!"

Over at the Nolan house, a fugly windmill newly installed on the front lawn, David and Kathryn were eating in awkward silence. David shuddered as he choked down a bite of chicken. "Ugh. I know it's crazy, but somehow the thought of eating an innocent bird makes my very soul recoil in abject horror."

"David," said Kathryn, "I know awkward silences are the foundation of our relationship, but can we break that pattern and talk for a minute?"

David thought it over. "I'll make you a deal. We can talk if you'll agree to let me give our feathered friend here a proper burial." He indicated his plate.

"Fine, whatever. The thing is, I've decided to go law school without consulting or even telling you first. What do you think?"

"I think it's great!" said David. "It will be wonderful, for once, to have a lawyer in Storybrooke who isn't named Gold."

"Did you just say gold?" Kathryn suddenly broke down sobbing. "GOLD! G-g-g-gooooold!"

"Honey, are you okay?"

"Sorry," she sniffled, pulling herself together, "I don't know what came over me. Anyway, in response to your earlier comment, I actually won't be practicing in Storybrooke. There are no law schools in Storybrooke. In fact, I'm not even sure there's a high school in Storybrooke. We'll have to leave town."

"Leave town?" David stared uncomprehendingly. "How does that work, exactly?"

"It's easy. We just get in the car and drive like we're going to visit the town line, but we don't stop or crash when we get there."

David looked uncertain. "Has anyone ever actually tried that before? It sounds risky."

"We could be the first. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I think it went to find my sense of romance."

"I'll say," Kathryn grumbled, with a glance at her lame Valentine's Day card. "Well, why don't you go for a walk and think it over? In the meantime, I think I'm going to go upstairs and watch Mannequin. That always cheers me up, for some reason."

Prince Charming knelt on the ground, execution-style, while some Legionnaire of Evil hovered over him with a dagger. "Why am I always getting jumped in the woods by hooded strangers?" he sighed.

"Because the women in your life are all incredibly complicated," drawled Princess Abigail, emerging on the scene.

"Abigail?" Prince Charming stumbled to his feet, relieved. "You know, if you wanted to talk, you could sent a postcard with any bird. What the hell possessed you to think that sending armed thugs after a desperate fugitive would do anything to facilitate communication?"

"You mean you thought that my men were your father's goons?" Abigail burst out laughing. "Are you blind or something? These guys are wearing purple capes and black gambesons. Your father's men wear white tabards and chainmail. How, exactly, does one confuse the two?"

"Cut me a break, I'm distraught."

"Whatever, I didn't come here to argue with you. My homies in the Reporters' Guild tell me you're hot for Snow White and you have no intention of marrying me. They also say you're having an affair with Kim Kardashian. Is any of that true?"

"Yes to the first, no to the second."

"Well, I'm happy either way, because I don't want to marry you."

Charming was insulted. "First you jump me in the woods, then you treat me with unexplained, undeserved rudeness, and then you dump me with absolutely no explanation?" He looked her over with new interest. "Maybe I could learn to love you after all."

"So let me get this straight," said Mary Margaret, walking down the street with her duplicitous darling. "Your wife is going to become a lawyer?" She grinned. "Well, at least hating her just got a little easier. So, did you tell her you can't move right now because you have a girlfriend?"

"No."

"Oh. You should really hurry up and get on that," she admonished.

David flinched. "But she'll yell at me."

Mary Margaret brandished a fist. "If you don't tell her, I'll yell at you!"

"You?" David laughed hysterically. "Sweet little Mary Margaret, raise her voice in anger? That's a good one!" Above their heads, a flock of bluebirds joined in, twittering with amusement.

Mary Margaret sighed wearily. "So what's your plan? Wait until Kathryn dies of old age to make our relationship public?"

"No. Actually, I was planning to head down to the mayor's new playground and bury my head in the sand until this whole thing blows over."

"Oh, come on!" Mary Margaret prodded. "Where's your courage?"

"I think it went to find my sense of adventure and my sense of romance."

Mary Margaret decided it was time to bring out the big guns. "Fine, then. If that's how it's going to be, I'm withholding fluff from you until you tell Kathryn the truth about us."

"Mary Margaret! That's fighting dirty!" David whined. "Fine, fine, I'll break up with my stupid wife. Spoilsport."

Emma was on her way into the only diner in town for some Zoloft cupcakes when she bumped into everyone's favorite biker. "Hey Emma. I've been meaning to bump into you, but plagiarism is busy work. Ready to grab that drink you promised me?"

She groaned. "Is there any way I can get out of this?"

"No."

"Are you coming on to me?" Emma demanded warily. "Because if you are, I think it's only fair to warn you that the last guy who tried that mysteriously dropped dead."

"I'm not afraid of death. I'm not afraid of anything but whales."

'Then you'd better stay away from the hospital."

"Noted. Now let's get on with our date; the Wooden Swan shippers are getting restless."

"I'm not going anywhere with you until you tell me your name."

"Aw, but that'll spoil my aura of mystery!" August whined. "How am I supposed to hang onto my fangirls?"

"You'll still have your leather jacket and all-knowing smirk," Emma reminded him.

He brightened. "That's true. Fine, my name is August W. Booth."

"Well, I can see why you wanted to keep a shameful secret like that under wraps." Emma choked back a laugh. "Should I call you Dubya?"

August's eyes hardened. "Just meet me here after work and keep the smart remarks to yourself." He stormed off, muttering under his breath. "Man, being a hero's moral guide is a lot harder than Jiminy made it look…"

Emma went inside and plopped down at her mom's table. Mary Margaret eyed the retreating stranger with unease. "Emma, did I just hear you say you were going on a date with that man?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I don't know, it's just that for some reason, the thought of you dating some rebel with a leather jacket and motorcycle makes me cringe."

"What are you, my mother?" Emma snapped. "Actually, don't answer that. I don't want to know. Why did you call me here? If this is about joining the Audubon Society again, I'm still not interested."

"No, actually I wanted to discuss my secret affair with David, and I thought a public establishment with a gossipy proprietor would be the most logical place."

The savior burst out laughing. "Secret affair with David? Honey, between me, Sidney, and Henry, there are no secrets in this town. Besides, like I already told you, you have absolutely no aptitude for dishonesty."

"Damn this heart of gold!" Mary Margaret cursed bitterly. "Oh well, I suppose it doesn't matter anymore. David's telling Kathryn the truth about us, so I can finally go back to being Lawful Good."

At the Nolan home, Kathryn glanced up from her laptop as David walked in. "Hey, honey, you're not going to believe this! I just found an apartment complex in Boston called 'Golden Windmill Circle'. This has got to be a sign!"

"It is, just not a good one."

"Huh?"

"I'm dumping you."

"What?" Kathryn burst into tears. "But why? Is there another woman?"

"Er…no, of course not," David fibbed, trying to soften the blow. "I just find you unlovable and hate being married to you. Does that make you feel better?"

"No!" sobbed Kathryn. "That was just plain cruel! Where's your sensitivity?"

Her reluctant husband shrugged. "I guess it went to find my courage, my sense of adventure, and my sense of romance."

Back in the Enchanted Forest of British Columbia, Princess Abigail led Prince Charming over the border. "Phew, we should be safe here. For some reason, your dad neglected to include an extradition treaty in the merger he arranged between our two kingdoms."

"Yeah, I haven't known the old man for very long, but he doesn't strike me as terribly bright." Charming rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "I'm so glad I'm adopted and don't have to worry about inheriting whatever mental handicap he has."

"Do you ever shut up?" Abigail handed him a bag of provisions. "Here, take these and go find Snow White. You're getting on my nerves."

He seized her by the wrist. "I demand to know why you're being so nice all of a sudden. This is totally out of character! Did you find Jesus? Start taking antidepressants? Get a new writer? Answer me!"

Abigail's guards advanced on him menacingly, but she waved them aside. "It's alright, boys. Charming's a knight in shining armor. He can't hit a girl or he'll lose his fan base." She shook off the prince's grip. "Now, to answer your question, I'm letting you go because I'm in love with someone I can't have."

"There's a lot of that going around right now," Charming observed.

"Yeah, I hear Rumplestiltskin has invented a convenient over-the-counter patch for it, but I'm way too smart to buy anything from him."

"Really? Maybe I should pay him a visit," the quasi-prince mused. "What's the worst he can do to me? Take away my loved ones and my identity? It's a little late for that, and besides, I have a feeling I should be getting used to such things."

She whacked him over the head. "Quit being such a drama queen. You think you've got it bad?" She led him over to a gazebo, where a golden statue covered in bright red lipstick marks stood, sword held high. "My father accidentally turned my fiancé Frederick into this monstrosity with his magic grope."

"How?" Charming was confused. "He always has that quintuple layer of heavy gauntlets tied over his magical hand. How did he manage to get all of those off and then touch Frederick accidentally? Are you sure he didn't do it on purpose?"

"I don't know. Come to think of it, he did always disapprove of the fact that Frederick still lived with his mother." Abigail's eyes narrowed. "Daddy, how could you?!"

Prince Charming slipped into comfort mode. "There, there, you shouldn't give up hope yet. Have you tried True Love's Kiss? Four out of five wizards recommend it."

"Tried it, along with fairy dust, nail polish remover, and peanut butter. No luck."

Charming frowned. "So there's nothing we can do to save him? Absolutely no hope? No crazy scheme with even a slim chance of success? I find that hard to believe."

"Well…" Abigail began uncertainly.

"I knew it," Charming bragged.

"There is this one legend, of a place called Lake Plotspeed, whose waters have the power to restore that which has been lost."

"Sweet. I wonder why King George never thought to use them on his hair?"

"Because the lake is guarded by a terrible beast that even our bravest knights haven't been able to defeat."

"Then today's your lucky day." The quasi-prince grinned. "As you may recall, terrible beasts that even your bravest knights haven't been able to defeat are an old specialty of mine."

"What's in it for you?" Abigail wanted to know. "You've already made it clear you don't want my money or my love. Are you after my hair?"

"What? No, what kind of weirdo would ask to be paid in hair?" Charming laughed. "I simply have a death wish," he explained.

"Just what every girl likes to hear from her champion before he marches into battle," the princess sighed. "All right, do what you have to do, but take this first." She handed him a little card. "It's the number for the suicide hotline. Promise me you'll give them a call before you head out."

August was huddled in his room at the only hotel in town, picking apart the Big Book of Déjà Vu and soaking the pieces in gasoline. "Heh heh! Once the original copy is safely burned, I'll be free to take full credit for this whimsical collection of non-traditional fairy tales. August W. Booth, you're an evil genius!"

A knock came at the door. "Mr. Booth?" Granny Lucas yelled. "I don't mean to pry, but I'm smelling a lot of chemical fumes from your room. Are you in there plagiarizing again?"

"Er, no ma'am, just running a small-scale meth lab." His hand flew to his nose. "Incidentally, you wouldn't happen to know of a good plastic surgeon anywhere in town?"

Regina Mills sat with her son in the Mayoral Lair. "Hey, Henry? Since gaslighting you seems to be failing miserably, I thought I'd give buying your love a try." She thrust a box at him.

Henry opened the package. "A Game Boy? You actually thought I'd be into this? What do I look like, some kind of Muggle?"

"Oh, come on, it'll be awesome!" said Regina. "This way, you can release your heroic energies on King Koopa and leave me to scheme in peace for a change. Now go on home. I'll be there to make dinner in a few."

"Plying me with bread and circuses, Mom?" Henry was unmoved. "I've read Juvenal and I know what you're trying to do, here."

"Do as you're told or I'm making applesauce for dessert!"

"No!" screamed Henry, terrified.

Regina took a deep breath and counted to ten. "Sorry, son, you didn't deserve that." She indicated the video game. "But if you can find some love in that great big heart of yours for me, there's plenty more loot where that came from."

"No deal," Henry said flatly. "You separated me from Emma, and there can be no forgiveness for that. I want a mother who I can trust not to selfishly manipulate my relationships with my biological parents."

"Then I'm afraid you're screwed either way, little buddy." She shoved him out the door.

Kathryn Nolan appeared in the doorway. "Hey, Reg? I hate to interrupt what passes for a heartwarming conversation around here, but I need some sympathy and I'm certainly not getting any from the audience."

"Yeah, you kind of brought that on yourself, becoming a lawyer and all."

"Regina, this is serious!" Kathryn bawled. "My husband just left me for the second time in two months. I'm starting to take this personally!"

"Eh, it's not your fault Mary Margaret's a skank."

"Mary Margaret, aka, Saint Eminem? A skank?" Kathryn chuckled through her tears. "I should probably be mad at you for cracking jokes at a time like this, but I needed a good laugh. Thanks, homegirl."

"Actually, I was serious," said Regina, fighting a smirk. "Sid got his hands on some photos of the two of them making out and was going to put them in the Municipal Enquirer, but I took them away from him so that I could use them for target practice." She paused. "Oh, and protect your marriage, too."

"Why would you want to do that?" asked Kathryn, flipping through photo after photo of David and Mary Margaret dancing around the local wishing well.

"Because I'm a fan of true love," said Regina innocently. And more importantly, what it decimates. Bwa hah hah!"

"That does it!" Kathryn stormed out. "I've had quite enough of being surrounded by underhanded liars all the time. I'm going to law school!"

Princess Abigail and Prince Charming stumbled across what was either a large shrine or a very small junkyard. "Boy, someone should really tell the lake monster to pick up her toys once in a while," Charming observed.

"No, she didn't do this. The last few would-be heroes who came through here tried to butter her up with gifts." Abigail snorted. "Typical men."

Charming examined the offerings with disdain. "Aromatherapy candles? How the hell is she supposed to use these? She lives underwater. Rusty old battle helmets? A mop?!" He kicked the articles aside. "These are the most thoughtless gifts I've ever seen in my life! Even worse than a greeting card that says 'I Woof You'! Poor girl. If you ask me, she had every right to drown these insensitive tools." He took a bouquet of roses and a bottle of champagne out of his travel bag and placed them on the pile. "Here you go, baby. Enjoy."

Abigail raised her eyebrows. "Why are you traveling with roses and champagne?"

"Hey, my name is Charming, and I intend to live up to it," the quasi-prince declared. "Speaking of which, it wouldn't be very charming of me to hide behind a helpless girl in the upcoming battle. You'd better hang out here and knit until I get back."

"That's a fine thing for you of all people to say! Didn't you get your face bashed in by a girl not once, but twice?"

"Yeah." Charming caressed his scarred chin dreamily. "And I'll treasure the memory forever. But that's neither here nor there. If you had the guts to face the lake monster, theoretically you would have done it already, am I right?"

"For the record, I seriously considered it," Abigail defended, "but with Daddy compulsively morphing all the arms and armor in our kingdom into gold, finding usable equipment for such a quest proved to be impossible."

The quasi-prince drew his sword. "Shut up and do as you're told, female."

"Yes, sir."

At the Nolan home, David was thumbing through photo after photo of himself and Kathryn enjoying the fugly windmills of Holland. "Ugh." He shuddered. "It's a good thing I got out of this marriage before my next vacation rolled around. David picked up his phone. "Yo, Eminem?"

"Did you drop your wife like an overheated sword?" his girlfriend demanded.

"Well, hello to you, too."

"Answer the freaking question."

"I…didn't not neglect to not conceal the truth from her," David stuttered, sweating heavily.

Embarrassed to admit, as a professional educator, that she couldn't make grammatical sense of that statement, Mary Margaret simply answered, "Oh. Uh, good?"

"If you say so, baby. So, now that I allegedly manned up and told the truth, can we meet up after work? I miss my fluff buddy."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, baby."

David had just hung up the phone when his doorbell rang. He answered it and found himself face to face with a fuming Archie Hopper. Without a word of explanation, the good doctor promptly smacked him in the face.

Howling, David clutched his rapidly swelling nose. "Agh! What the hell was that for?" he shrieked. "Ow, I think my nose just doubled in size."

"Sorry, David." Hopper looked slightly dazed. "I don't know what came over me. It just felt necessary."

Meanwhile, David's girl was facing down moral police of her own. Kathryn stormed into the only school in town and slapped her across the face. "Hey, no fighting in the halls!" a young hall monitor squeaked in protest.

"Screw you and screw your skanky teacher!" Kathryn snarled.

"Kathryn," said Mary Margaret gently, "you have every right to be upset, but a chick fight in regards to adultery? This confrontation is at least PG-13. Think of the children!"

"Screw them, too!"

Mary Margaret sighed. "Look, it's not as bad as you're making it out to be. David and I are free to live happily ever after, and someday your prince will come, too."

A sexy coach in bright gold gym shorts chose this moment to stumble into Kathryn. "She's got a point, you know."

Kathryn shoved him unceremoniously through a nearby window. "Don't try to distract me from your web of lies with hotties!"

"I've never lied to you," Mary Margaret insisted. "Trust me, if I had, you'd know. By all accounts, I really suck at it."

"You didn't lie to me! David did!"

"Then why aren't you slapping and screaming at him?" Mary Margaret was getting seriously confused.

"Because he's way bigger than me. You're a much easier target!" Kathryn flung one of the fallen coach's soccer balls at her rival's head and stormed off. "Screw it, you can keep the Spineless Wonder," she grumbled. "I don't know what I ever saw in him anyway. He's not even named Frederick!"

Prince Charming arrived at the shores of Lake Plotspeed and found another knight in shining armor lounging serenely on the shore. "Who the hell are you?"

"Sir Lancelot du Lac. I live here."

"Well, there's only room for one handsome hero in this hood, so beat it! I don't ever want to see you around here again."

Lancelot smirked. "I have a feeling you'll change your tune someday. But I'll play along for now." He picked up his beach towel and hit the road.

Satisfied, the quasi-prince took out his thermos and stooped to fill it. At his touch, the water began rumbling ominously. "That must be the monster," he guessed. "Clearly, the only sensible thing to do is stick around and goad it into a fight, now that I have what I came for." He bared his neck boldly. "Come on out and take a bite of this, if you dare! C'mon, what are you, chicken?" he sneered.

A siren emerged from the churning waters, garbed in a fuzzy bathrobe, with a curling iron in hand. "Damn it, can't you heroes give me five minutes to myself for a change?"

August W. Booth pulled up to the only diner in town for his date with Emma and destiny. "Hey, baby. I know this may not compute, but you and I are going out for drinks at a place that is neither Granny's nor The Rabbit Hole." He tossed her a helmet. "Climb aboard. Time waits for no automaton."

"I don't know…" Emma hesitated. "The last time I took an impromptu ride with a mysterious stranger, I wound up pregnant and incarcerated."

"All good points," said Granny, "but on the other hand, he's sexy and leather-clad."

"Hm. Can't argue with that."

As the mysterious stranger drove her deeper and deeper into the woods, Emma grew nervous. "Should I have brought my chainsaw?"

August laughed. "No, no, save it for Jefferson." He pulled up in front of a wishing well.

"Wait a minute. You're taking me out for a drink of groundwater? You're not even going to pop for the fancy bottled kind? You must be the biggest cheapskate I've ever had the misfortune of dating!"

"If I told you it was rare, magical groundwater, would that help my case?"

The savior groaned. "I get enough crazy lectures on the role of magic in our cosmology from my son. I don't need it from a virtual stranger!"

"Ah, yes, little Henry. I don't suppose you've ever noticed how he always seems to be right about everything?"

"No," Emma denied a little too quickly for comfort.

"I can see I've got my work cut out for me. But back to the water…" he passed her a cup, "you really ought to give it a try. It comes from the pristine shores of Lake Plotspeed, and is fortified with plenty of siren hair for that extra kick."

Emma eyed the proffered glass doubtfully. "Do you get paid to sell this water or something?"

"Are you always this skeptical?" August groaned.

"Worse, usually."

"I'm in over my head, here." August contemplated drowning himself in the well, but upon realizing he'd just float to the top, he decided to stick around and keep on trying.

On the streets of Storybrooke, Mary Margaret found herself surrounded by complete strangers who cared about her love life for some reason. "Take a picture, it'll last longer!" she snapped.'

"All right, if you insist." Sidney Glass pounced, camera in hand. "Hehe, this love triangle's going to be the biggest news story we've had since Ruby turned down Billy's invitation to the prom all those years ago!"

"Shame, shame, shame, on your, your name!" Granny scolded, rubbing her forefingers at Mary Margaret. "I don't know how you can look in the mirror after what you've done."

"And I don't know how you can look in the mirror after what you've done to your hair," Mary Margaret retorted. The two women both broke down crying and ran home in shame.

"What's your name?" the siren cooed, looking as evil as a sparkly chick in a tiara possibly could.

"Well, I used to be named David, but then when I was ten, that bully Goliath nicknamed me Honeymuffin, and everyone thought it was hilarious. Pretty soon, even my own mom was using it. Then my twin brother died and bequeathed me the name of James, along with a really cool stamp collection. Unfortunately, before I could get it to catch on, I met my True Love, who rechristened me Charming. She claims she did it because 'Charming' suited me, but honestly, I think she just lacked the adequate mental capacity to remember my many names. Then we—"

"Enough!" The siren held up a hand, looking pained. "You're giving me a migraine, whoever you are. Let's talk about my name for a while." She strolled toward him across the surface of the lake.

"Okay. Is it Jesus?"

"No. To you, it's 'Hot Mama'."

"Are you hitting on me?" Charming raised his sword in a defensive gesture. "Stay back! Every time a woman expresses a romantic interest in me, I end up getting attacked. Somehow I doubt you're going to be the one to break that pattern."

"Ooh, a hardcore skeptic," the siren giggled. "You'd best be careful. I hear that's hereditary."

"Shut up!"

"You seem hostile. Maybe you'll be more kindly disposed toward the woman who broke your heart and ruined your life. It's morphin' time!" She dumped a handful of deliciously fortified water over her head and promptly shapeshifted into Ginnifer Goodwin. "Like me more, now, Honeymuffin?"

"I thought I told you never to call me that again, Snow," Charming grated.

"Fine, whatever your name is. Shall we share Phony Love's Kiss now?" She leaned in expectantly.

"Ew, your breath reeks of pond scum." Charming recoiled in disgust. "Plus you're just trying to kill me."

"Yeah, so? What do you have to live for anyway?"

"My sacred quest to ensure the happiness of the spoiled brat who kidnapped me."

"Wow, you're way too good for this sinful earth." She dragged him into the deeps. "Trust me, I'm doing you a favor, here." Halfway to the floor of the lake, however, the creature's arms began to get tired. "Damn, you're heavy. I'm putting you on the honor system for a minute. Follow me."

"Hell no!" Charming swam like a bloodsucking monster was chasing, which it totally was. "Just a little tip for the next time you bring a guy home, the mangled corpses all over the place are a real turn-off. And would it kill you to pick up this floor? I almost stepped on this dagger." He did a double-take. "Dagger! Score!"

"I can't believe how long you've managed to hold your breath," the siren exclaimed. "Such stamina! Ooh, we're going to have so much fun together."

"Thanks, but I'm not really into murderous fiends. What do I look like, that sicko Belle?" Before the Siren could get all outraged and contact the Monstrous Anti-Defamation League, Charming stabbed her and hit the road.

Back in Storybrooke, someone who was probably named Regina had spray painted the word "TRAMP" all over Mary Margaret's tacky SUV. David attacked the graffiti with a scrub brush. "Damn, this scarlet 'A' is really stuck on here!"

"What's going on here?" Mary Margaret came over to check out the damage. "Tramp?" The amnesiac princess laughed. "That was the vilest epithet they could find for a notorious adulterer? Man, whoever did this has either no imagination or an army of censors following them around."

"I'm glad you're taking this so well, because I've got more bad news. A couple of bluebirds pooped on your windshield."

"No!" she wailed. "Not the bluebirds too? Everyone I love has turned against me!"

"Ahem," coughed David, raising his hand.

"Let me rephrase that. Everyone I love has turned against me or failed to inform his wife about our relationship."

"Oh. You heard about that, huh?"

"Did you really think I wouldn't? This is Storybrooke! Last week, Ruby stepped on a caterpillar and it made the front page of the freaking paper!"

"Okay, so maybe I lied!" David admitted grudgingly. "So maybe I'm a dishonest creep with a history of abandoning the women he loves. So maybe I'm refusing to take responsibility for the mess I've gotten you into. But none of that changes the fact that you're incredibly hot and I'm incredibly eligible."

"I'm not going to dignify that pathetic excuse for an excuse with a response." Mary Margaret whacked him over the head with a bird feeder. "Where the hell is your common sense today?"

"I think it went to find my sensitivity, my courage, my sense of adventure, and my sense of romance."

"Well, until you find them, stay the hell away from me." His now former squeeze stormed off. "Geez, this guy's starting to make Whale look good to me again. How sad is that?"

Emma lovingly brushed some dead leaves off her Love Bug. "Ah, Herbie, at least you'll never leave me." She suddenly noticed a grimy red box floating in the gutter. "Ew, some litterbug left an old pizza box under my car!"

"It's Henry's book, you idiot!" a voice that sounded a lot like August's yelled from around the corner.

"Huh, so it is. How convenient."

"Do you believe in magic yet?"

"Hell no."

"Damn it!"

Kathryn found Regina watering plants around the Mayoral Lair. "Spiffy flowers."

"Thanks, they're poisonous. I mean, delicious. Bwa hah hah!"

"Er, how nice," Kathryn stammered. "I just dropped by to apologize for calling you an underhanded liar."

"Really? You shouldn't have." The mayor squirmed uncomfortably. "Seriously, it's totally true."

"Aw, don't be so hard on yourself, bestie," Kathryn soothed.

Regina was ready to tear her hair out, then Kathryn's, then hers again. "Can you stop being so infuriatingly likable? Just for five minutes!" she pleaded.

"You sound just like David."

"Ah, you mean the love of your life?"

"No, I mean the love of Mary Margaret's life."

"Traitor!" Regina screamed, a sudden barrage of lightning and thunder crashing outside.

"Sorry, but I've made up my mind." Kathryn insisted. "I've decided to take everyone's advice about making myself less likable. I'm leaving town to become a lawyer. I left David a friendly Dear James letter, along with the house, the bank account, and all our other assets. Ah, I know law school costs a bundle, but maybe I can sneak in under a turnstile or something. I wouldn't want to make trouble for anyone."

"You're off to a terrible start on your goal of becoming less likable, homegirl," Regina sighed, reluctantly accepting a hug from her soon-to-be-late friend. "But I guess it's none of my business. It's been nice knowing you, and I truly hope your pain threshold is high."

Abigail pulled out a BB gun and fired away at a flock of birds perching on her freshly-polished beloved. "Beat it, you guys!"

Prince Charming marched triumphantly into the clearing, thermos held high. "As requested, an extra-large helping of piping hot tomato soup!"

"You moron!" Infuriated, the princess pumped up her air rifle.

Charming chuckled. "Just playing, it's the deliciously fortified water of Lake Plotspeed."

"You hero!" She tossed the weapon aside. "However did you do it?"

"I'm awesome, and experienced at dealing with abusive women," he explained simply. "Now let's do this thing, I've got places to go and princesses to stalk."

Abigail dumped the thermos over her garish lover, and his coat of gold melted away. "Where am I?" Frederick moaned. "I feel like crap. Am I hung over?"

"Probably, but what's important is that you were cursed, and now you're free." The princess' smile faded for a moment. "Daddy's not going to like this."

Charming was trying to hide his tears behind a handkerchief. "This is all so beautiful. I wish I had my camera."

"Who are you?" Frederick asked.

The quasi-prince flinched. "Please don't ask me that. For all our sakes."

Abigail took out a camcorder and microphone. "Prince Charming, you've just defeated yet another ferocious beast. What are you going to do now?"

"I'm going wherever the trail of bluebirds takes me!" Charming crowed. "I know Snow said she didn't love me, but that was just because I haven't been trying hard enough. I'm breaking out my A game now! Binoculars, psychotrophic drugs, the Charming Family Charm…she won't know what hit her!"

"Well, watch yourself. In case you haven't noticed yet, your dad's kind of psychotic."

Regina ran over to the Nolan house and whipped out her trusty set of skeleton keys. "Heh heh. Turning that locksmith into a toad was the best investment I ever made." She snatched up Kathryn's Dear James letter and tucked it safely in her purse. "You're going down, you little snitch!"

At the only school in town, Henry was sitting on a bench trying to act like a pre-teen boy, for once. He attacked his video game uncertainly. "This blocky little screen is making my head hurt. Am I supposed to be the colorless triangles or the colorless squares?" He rubbed his eyes. "If Mom wanted to buy my love with electronics, she could have at least sprung for a decent Xbox instead of this outdated piece of junk."

Emma sat down beside him. "Cool, Space Invaders!"

"Shh! You want to get sued?" Henry hissed, putting a finger to her lips. "This is Space Paranoids and don't you forget it!" He studied his mother's face. "What's with that smile? Did you have a canary sandwich for lunch or something?"

"No, I found your book." She handed it over, beaming. "You may start geeking out in five, four, three, two, one…"

"Eeeeee!" squealed Henry. "How'd you do it? A daring moonlit heist on Mom's evil lair? An epic quest with lots of cool chainsaw action?"

"No, I found it lying under my car."

"What, seriously?" Henry's face fell. "That's kind of anticlimactic, isn't it?'

"I don't know, I thought it was deliciously mysterious. The book must have somehow been washed out of its hiding place by the recent storm, sunk down into some hidden aquifer, floated down into the sewers, been piloted through a storm drain by a local tribe of Borrowers, who subsequently drowned under the leaking oil pan of my Love Bug, leaving me to accidentally stumble across the book and return it to its rightful owner." Emma had been up for two nights in a row piecing together this scenario.

Her son raised his eyebrows. "Or it could have been magic."

Emma jammed her fingers in her ears and closed her eyes. "La la la la la! I can't hear you!"

"Oh, Emma, even a reminder of our family history of chronic skepticism can't dampen my mood right now."

"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 Red's 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!"

Red 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 at once."

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. And then I'll charm her! It's my name and everything, so I don't really have a choice about that, either."

"Hey," Red laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "That line about shacking up with seven guys was just a joke. Their relationship is totally platonic." She paused. "Well, truthfully, I think Dopey's got a crush on her, but don't worry, she doesn't requite it."

"She's not great at requiting, is she?" Charming couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"I don't know, I think this suggests otherwise." She handed him the diary Snow had left behind.

"What's this?" Charming thumbed through the book incredulously. "'Mr. and Mrs. Charming 4-Ever,' 'Once you go Charming, you'll never go back,' 'I like big frauds and I cannot lie…'" He frowned. "What gives? She told me she didn't love me."

"She told me she did."

"But she told me she didn't."

"But she told me she did."

"But she told me she didn't."

"But she told me she did."

"And I tell you she doesn't!" roared King George as he charged toward them, all decked out in a chainmail toupee. "Off with his head, boys!"

Charming just rolled his eyes. "You think I'm afraid of a guy who has to plagiarize his battle cries from the Queen of Hearts?" He hauled Red onto his horse. "Come on, whoever you are. I'll keep you safe."

"Thanks," said Red, baring a set of wicked sharp fangs, "but that's really not necessary."

"Ah!" Charming yelped. "Midgets, feral huntsmen, and now werewolves? Man, Snow has even crazier taste in friends than she does in guys."

Back at the Princess Pad, Emma found Mary Margaret huddled in bed, singing tearfully into her favorite stuffed bluebird. "I'm wishing (I'm wishing)…for someone (for someone)…to shoot me (to shoot me)…today."

"Hey, Eminem?" Emma ventured. "I brought you some Zoloft cupcakes."

"I think I'm going to need something a little stronger this time, Emma," she sobbed.

"Are you getting at what I think you're getting at?"

"Yep."

"All right, just this once," Emma sighed, enfolding her mother in her arms. "Comfort mode!"

Meanwhile, Regina was putting a torch to Kathryn's Dear James letter. "And they said installing a fireplace in an office building was just a wasteful extravagance. Bwa hah hah! Who's laughing now?"

At the town line, Kathryn took a deep breath. "Okay, Kathryn, this is it. If you can get across this line without crashing, you'll be a pioneer and a legend!" She put her foot on the gas and promptly slammed into a ditch. "Ow. This is harder than it looks."

Later that night, a sexy coach in bright gold gym shorts came driving up behind her. "Mrs. Nolan? Not that I've been stalking you or anything, but word on the street is, you just became single again. Would you be interested in joining me for groundwater some time?" He noticed her car lying mangled in the ditch and smiled smugly. "Hey, baby, it looks like you need a knight in unnaturally shiny armor. Well, I happen to know just the guy—" He opened the door and was dismayed to see a crash test dummy sitting in his girl's place. "Aw, damn. First the mayor shoots down my proposal to return to the gold standard, now this!"