Just a short piece written quite a few years ago for a writing class, hardly up to scratch, but it does contain my trademark snarky humour. Enjoy!
The Woes of Being Rumpelstillskin
Why is it that there is always some dopey future Princess who always needs rescuing because her daddy got himself into trouble? The fairytales always made it because the dear old soul was taxed to death, or that he had a mouth that put Tidalik the frugly frog to shame.
I shouldn't whinge really, the stupid ways of stupid plebs made me a rich…um thing, as was the case with the last beauty I had to save. Her father's voice box should have been removed the second he learned to talk, for the term brag didn't even begin to define the big talking quality of this twit.
He had claimed that his daughter could do something which she could not, to of all people, the Prince and heir of our royal old land. Of course the Prince knew, or at least thought he knew that what the fat old fart claimed was impossible or at least the workings of a witch. The reasons for the Prince taking the beauty that put Rapunzel to shame were far more perverse. He had been watching her for some time and thought her a suitable addition to his pleasure dome, or more suitably his little house of horrors which resembled something out of a medieval based porn film. How do I know this you ask? Well I used to know all sorts of things being a former master of Sorcery, spells and alchemy.
What I didn't know when I first looked upon the crying beauty who gave me an heirloom for my work was that I would end up losing her firstborn because the supposed silly little thing would guess my name.
In my opinion there was a glitch in the Matrix. I mean she threw out some pretty outrageous names at me, but the guessing of Rumpelstillskin had to have been some dark majicks at play.
I tantrumed, and suitably so. By losing that baby I lost everything. I spose that silly Princess was something of a witch, otherwise I wouldn't have given her the chance that I did. But I did and I lost. Man did I lose.
That baby was a wager on a poker game and so now I have lost my abilities in all things occultist and have been condemned to live under a bridge annoying all those who dare to cross. Including Billy goats.