DISCLAIMER: The views expressed by the following fairytale characters do
not directly correlate with the views of Fairy Godmother's Inc.
Author's Note: Don't kill me. My computer died. And when I say "died", I mean "died"! Crashed is not the word to describe it. It is dead. We are talking the lock down of all lock downs. Hence, I have been unable to write and am simply going to attempt it on the family computer downstairs. This may slow down my posting a bit, but I'll try to keep up. Please forgive me and review.
Chapter 9
Martha retreated to her desk and with a heavy sigh, I returned to my office. Shutting the door I leaned against it and rested my head against the cool mahogany. Eyes closed, relaxing into the haze of the millions of thoughts circulating about in my mind.
"Dr. Higgenbotham?" a lovely voice said quietly. I opened my eyes. The beautiful young woman in the raggedy dress I had previously, shall we say... smooched, was giving me a worried look from her perch on my sofa. She adjusted the magazines on the coffee table nervously with her silken hands.
I roused myself from my slump and crossed the room to my desk chair. "Good afternoon miss. Who might you be?"
She rose and gracefully passed me her manila envelope. "My name is Cinderella." And sure enough. The file read:
NAME: Cinderella AGE: 18 REASON FOR TREATEMENT: Attempted to single handedly clean up Dick Clark's "Rockin' New Years Eve" Party. Is also rather crazy about dust mops.
I closed my eyes and buried my face in my hands. My God, Cinderella was OCD! I should have taken more Advil.
"Dr. Higgenbotham, are you all right?" her feathery voice floated it's query.
No, I have a migraine, no pain killers, a broken Xerox machine, an angry secretary who's threatening to leave me, and a group of fable writing madmen on my hands who will kill me if I don't do something about it's lunatic (and occasionally homicidal) clients!!!!
Instead I said, "Fine."
"Here," she said, "you look ill. Let me help." And she reached into a bag that I had not previously noticed. Next to her chair sat the carpetbag, and a bucket with a mop and broom sticking out of the top and a few rags hanging over the lid. She rummaged around in the satchel for a moment and then laughed, "Aha ha ha ha ha!" in a sing-songy voice and produced a handful of red pills and a tub of yellowish ointment. "Here it is!" She bounced up from the chair and bounded over to me.
"Oh no, thank you madam, I'm quite..." I tried to say as she began prying open my mouth.
"Now just swallow these..." she shoved a dozen or so red pills into my mouth.
Choking on the pills I spluttered, "Now see here..." spraying caplets everywhere.
With a good natured smile she shoved them back into my mouth and poured in a glass of water, and held my mouth shut until I swallowed the lot. "Now, take off your shirt."
"Madam!" I pulled away and tried to escape the extremely forceful young lady who was attempting to wrench my coat jacket off my back.
Still with that cheerful grin she followed me as I climbed over the desk and having removed my blazer, began to tug at my tie. "Come now, this won't hurt a bit!" she sang.
The tie flew off and I threw my arms around myself and fell to the floor in a fetal position in attempt to ward off her advances. "MARTHA!!! MARTHA!!!!" I screamed.
Cinderella pounced on my back, wrenched off the shirt and began to splatter blobs of ointment onto my bare torso. I screamed at the cold of the gel and rolled over so that she straddled my chest.
Martha chose that moment to walk in.
"Daniel, what's the...oh." She stood there, smoke boiling out of her ears, as Cinderella continued massaging the yellow ointment into my bare chest and said, "Oh do pardon us Ms. Washington, I was just helping Dr. Higgenbotham cure his head cold."
Awkward.
I firmly slid Cinderella off my body and onto the floor and regained my feet. "This isn't what it looks like."
With a voice like poisoned honey Martha replied, "Of course, can I bring you anything Doctor?" The sickly sweet words poured out of her mouth with vindictiveness.
Glancing at the clock I realized that I now had only twenty-five minutes left with my patient. I would have to deal with Martha later. "No thank you," I said and reached for the shirt and tie Cinderella was folding with meticulous care.
The glorious maiden at my side now seemed nervous at Martha's obvious malevolence and reached for a dust rag. Scurrying around me she picked up a few knick-knacks and began to polish them. Martha left the room in a huff, slamming the door behind her.
I sighed, staring after the closed mahogany door and slumped down into my desk chair. Cinderella was still rubbing the wooden figures neurotically. I glanced up at her and said quickly, "Don't worry about those that's what the cleaning service is for."
She flashed me a look of pain, "In that case you definitely need to consider lowering their pay. This dust is appalling!"
I picked up the manila envelope again and began flipping through it. "So Cinderella..."
"Cindy."
"Ok, Cindy. I notice here that you have been having marital problems, and judging by the rather defined tan line around your wedding ring finger it seems that you and your beau have broken it off huh?"
She replaced the doll and slumped into the armchair. "I just started thinking...what use would I be? I mean at home with my stepsisters and stepmother there's lots I can do to help and keep things positive. But the palace...well they have hundreds of servants and everything. What good would I do?"
"But your family, they aren't exactly kind to you are they?"
The sitting still didn't seem to agree with her so she rose and picking up her Swiffer Duster, began to go over the polished wood floor. "Well, no...but its sort of the reverse of Weir Mitchel's theory isn't it?"
Huh? Wear who? "I'm sorry?"
"Weir Mitchel believed that idleness and rest were the panacea for women. He was quite popular among the men in the early 20th century. Anyway, I would rather be with my stepfamily and busy, than at a palace and bored out of my mind." She shrugged into the Swiffer and set it aside in favor of a DustBuster vacuum, with which she began to use on my furniture in a rather obsessive way.
The girl had a point. I mean after all, most fairytale queens did nothing except have babies and die if you think about it. Snow White's mother: had a baby and died. Sleeping Beauty's mother: had a baby and died. The Little Mermaid's mother: had a baby and ...you guessed it...died.
"Ok, I see your point. But hell woman, this is a fabulous opportunity! Start a revolution! Take action in your husband's foreign policies! Visit neighboring kingdoms, speak with dignitaries, write an amendment calling for the protection of talking animals! You could do even more good for people who actually deserve it!"
Cindy tensely sprayed Windex on my windows and said in a very small voice, "But the law says women shouldn't..."
"SCREW THE LAW!" I screamed and Cindy's rag made a screeching sound on the glass as she jumped. "CINDERELLA, YOU'VE GOT TO GET BUSY AND STEP UP TO THE PLATE! IF YOU LOVE THAT PRINCE AND YOU WANT TO DO SOME GOOD THEN DO IT!!!"
For a moment there was silence in the room. Cindy slowly began putting up her cleaning supplies and said, "You're right. I've just been scared so long. I'll do it. I'll take control and work to clean up this kingdom!"
More gently I said, "And just think...a palace...hundreds of rooms...you can clean all day if you so desire!"
Her eyes sparkled and she shook my hand, "Thank you so much Dr. Higgenbotham. You have been most kind." She flashed one of her drop dead gorgeous smiles at me and waltzed towards the door, "I'm sorry about earlier...this seems to happen a lot around men. I'll put in a good word for you with your secretary." And she left.
I had just fallen into my chair when the door opened again and Martha stepped into the room, "My God!" she cried, "The floors are immaculate!"
Author's Note: Don't kill me. My computer died. And when I say "died", I mean "died"! Crashed is not the word to describe it. It is dead. We are talking the lock down of all lock downs. Hence, I have been unable to write and am simply going to attempt it on the family computer downstairs. This may slow down my posting a bit, but I'll try to keep up. Please forgive me and review.
Chapter 9
Martha retreated to her desk and with a heavy sigh, I returned to my office. Shutting the door I leaned against it and rested my head against the cool mahogany. Eyes closed, relaxing into the haze of the millions of thoughts circulating about in my mind.
"Dr. Higgenbotham?" a lovely voice said quietly. I opened my eyes. The beautiful young woman in the raggedy dress I had previously, shall we say... smooched, was giving me a worried look from her perch on my sofa. She adjusted the magazines on the coffee table nervously with her silken hands.
I roused myself from my slump and crossed the room to my desk chair. "Good afternoon miss. Who might you be?"
She rose and gracefully passed me her manila envelope. "My name is Cinderella." And sure enough. The file read:
NAME: Cinderella AGE: 18 REASON FOR TREATEMENT: Attempted to single handedly clean up Dick Clark's "Rockin' New Years Eve" Party. Is also rather crazy about dust mops.
I closed my eyes and buried my face in my hands. My God, Cinderella was OCD! I should have taken more Advil.
"Dr. Higgenbotham, are you all right?" her feathery voice floated it's query.
No, I have a migraine, no pain killers, a broken Xerox machine, an angry secretary who's threatening to leave me, and a group of fable writing madmen on my hands who will kill me if I don't do something about it's lunatic (and occasionally homicidal) clients!!!!
Instead I said, "Fine."
"Here," she said, "you look ill. Let me help." And she reached into a bag that I had not previously noticed. Next to her chair sat the carpetbag, and a bucket with a mop and broom sticking out of the top and a few rags hanging over the lid. She rummaged around in the satchel for a moment and then laughed, "Aha ha ha ha ha!" in a sing-songy voice and produced a handful of red pills and a tub of yellowish ointment. "Here it is!" She bounced up from the chair and bounded over to me.
"Oh no, thank you madam, I'm quite..." I tried to say as she began prying open my mouth.
"Now just swallow these..." she shoved a dozen or so red pills into my mouth.
Choking on the pills I spluttered, "Now see here..." spraying caplets everywhere.
With a good natured smile she shoved them back into my mouth and poured in a glass of water, and held my mouth shut until I swallowed the lot. "Now, take off your shirt."
"Madam!" I pulled away and tried to escape the extremely forceful young lady who was attempting to wrench my coat jacket off my back.
Still with that cheerful grin she followed me as I climbed over the desk and having removed my blazer, began to tug at my tie. "Come now, this won't hurt a bit!" she sang.
The tie flew off and I threw my arms around myself and fell to the floor in a fetal position in attempt to ward off her advances. "MARTHA!!! MARTHA!!!!" I screamed.
Cinderella pounced on my back, wrenched off the shirt and began to splatter blobs of ointment onto my bare torso. I screamed at the cold of the gel and rolled over so that she straddled my chest.
Martha chose that moment to walk in.
"Daniel, what's the...oh." She stood there, smoke boiling out of her ears, as Cinderella continued massaging the yellow ointment into my bare chest and said, "Oh do pardon us Ms. Washington, I was just helping Dr. Higgenbotham cure his head cold."
Awkward.
I firmly slid Cinderella off my body and onto the floor and regained my feet. "This isn't what it looks like."
With a voice like poisoned honey Martha replied, "Of course, can I bring you anything Doctor?" The sickly sweet words poured out of her mouth with vindictiveness.
Glancing at the clock I realized that I now had only twenty-five minutes left with my patient. I would have to deal with Martha later. "No thank you," I said and reached for the shirt and tie Cinderella was folding with meticulous care.
The glorious maiden at my side now seemed nervous at Martha's obvious malevolence and reached for a dust rag. Scurrying around me she picked up a few knick-knacks and began to polish them. Martha left the room in a huff, slamming the door behind her.
I sighed, staring after the closed mahogany door and slumped down into my desk chair. Cinderella was still rubbing the wooden figures neurotically. I glanced up at her and said quickly, "Don't worry about those that's what the cleaning service is for."
She flashed me a look of pain, "In that case you definitely need to consider lowering their pay. This dust is appalling!"
I picked up the manila envelope again and began flipping through it. "So Cinderella..."
"Cindy."
"Ok, Cindy. I notice here that you have been having marital problems, and judging by the rather defined tan line around your wedding ring finger it seems that you and your beau have broken it off huh?"
She replaced the doll and slumped into the armchair. "I just started thinking...what use would I be? I mean at home with my stepsisters and stepmother there's lots I can do to help and keep things positive. But the palace...well they have hundreds of servants and everything. What good would I do?"
"But your family, they aren't exactly kind to you are they?"
The sitting still didn't seem to agree with her so she rose and picking up her Swiffer Duster, began to go over the polished wood floor. "Well, no...but its sort of the reverse of Weir Mitchel's theory isn't it?"
Huh? Wear who? "I'm sorry?"
"Weir Mitchel believed that idleness and rest were the panacea for women. He was quite popular among the men in the early 20th century. Anyway, I would rather be with my stepfamily and busy, than at a palace and bored out of my mind." She shrugged into the Swiffer and set it aside in favor of a DustBuster vacuum, with which she began to use on my furniture in a rather obsessive way.
The girl had a point. I mean after all, most fairytale queens did nothing except have babies and die if you think about it. Snow White's mother: had a baby and died. Sleeping Beauty's mother: had a baby and died. The Little Mermaid's mother: had a baby and ...you guessed it...died.
"Ok, I see your point. But hell woman, this is a fabulous opportunity! Start a revolution! Take action in your husband's foreign policies! Visit neighboring kingdoms, speak with dignitaries, write an amendment calling for the protection of talking animals! You could do even more good for people who actually deserve it!"
Cindy tensely sprayed Windex on my windows and said in a very small voice, "But the law says women shouldn't..."
"SCREW THE LAW!" I screamed and Cindy's rag made a screeching sound on the glass as she jumped. "CINDERELLA, YOU'VE GOT TO GET BUSY AND STEP UP TO THE PLATE! IF YOU LOVE THAT PRINCE AND YOU WANT TO DO SOME GOOD THEN DO IT!!!"
For a moment there was silence in the room. Cindy slowly began putting up her cleaning supplies and said, "You're right. I've just been scared so long. I'll do it. I'll take control and work to clean up this kingdom!"
More gently I said, "And just think...a palace...hundreds of rooms...you can clean all day if you so desire!"
Her eyes sparkled and she shook my hand, "Thank you so much Dr. Higgenbotham. You have been most kind." She flashed one of her drop dead gorgeous smiles at me and waltzed towards the door, "I'm sorry about earlier...this seems to happen a lot around men. I'll put in a good word for you with your secretary." And she left.
I had just fallen into my chair when the door opened again and Martha stepped into the room, "My God!" she cried, "The floors are immaculate!"