Once upon a time, there lived a young man by the name of Vincent. He was a kind young man who was always polite to everyone he met. He was also kind-hearted and could not turn down a person in need. He lived with his middle-aged mother, who was, to Vincent's misfortune, a bit eccentric.
For Vincent's sixteenth birthday, she bought him a red hooded cape and a matching white cotton dress. She told him that his grandmother was on her deathbed, and that she had requested to see her grandson one last time. Vincent was to wear the dress and cape on the trip to see his ailing grandmother.
Of course, Vincent was very adamant about having to wear a dress.
"Mother, why must I wear this absolutely repulsive garment?" he asked his mother.
"Young man, I will not tolerate back talk! Or should that be young lady now?"
The young man was enraged, and it is quite understandable as to why. Vincent was a rather good-looking young man, if somewhat feminine, but he was obviously male. In the end, he ended up wearing the dress, but he was not happy about it.
So Vincent headed into the woods, on the path that led to his ailing grandmother's house. He walked, and walked, and he walked some more, until he came to a fork in the road. At this point, he realized that his eccentric mother had forgotten to give him directions.
"Infernal woman. Which way should I go now?" he asked the voices in his head.
"Like we would know," came the reply.
"Well, aren't you all helpful?"
Vincent sat down and pondered his situation for a moment. He knew the stories about these woods, and he knew that one path led to safety and the other lead to the lair of a ferocious beast.
"Oh, great, if I choose wrong, I get eaten, but if I choose right, I get laughed at," he said, weighing the choices in his head. He inspected the two paths. The one to the right was bright and cheery, but the path to the left was dark and spooky. Of course, he did what any normal person would do: Said "To Hell with it" and took the path less traveled.
"After all," he thought aloud, "I'm probably scarier than anything in here."
He walked deep into the dark woods, not once looking back. After a while, he realized that he was completely and utterly lost. He once more sat down to ponder his next move. Unfortunately, at that point his mind decided to wander and he found himself sing pop songs from the eighties.
"Sweet dreams are made of these, who am I to disagree," he sang softly, oblivious to his surroundings.
Not too far away, the fabled beast of the woods was reading his daily paper. Contrary to popular belief, he was not a beast, but a rather handsome man by the name of Sephiroth. He lived in a small cottage with a few servants. Sephiroth heard Vincent's singing and was drawn to find the owner of this beautiful voice. He followed the voice until he came upon Vincent, staring at the sky and singing to himself.
He had switched tunes.
"I just died in your arms tonight, must've been something you said, I just died in your arms tonight," he sang in perfect pitch, completely unaware that he was being watched.
"What sort of vision are you? An angel from heaven?" Sephiroth asked softly, startling Vincent, who had "gone all sixes and sevens," to put it mildly. In other words, he was off in his own world.
"I-I beg your pardon?"
"Forgive me, that was rather rude. My name is Sephiroth. What is a beauty like you doing all alone out here in the woods."
"Yet again, I beg your pardon, I am male."
Sephiroth blinked. Male? His vision of loveliness was male? This was rather embarrassing. "Oh."
"Look, I'm lost, can you help me find my grandmother's house? I have no idea where the hell I am, and Granny is definitely not getting any younger."
"Um, sure. Just head straight through the woods until you get to a pine tree. Turn left and you'll be at the house of the only old lady I know of."
Vincent smiled. "Thank you, Sephiroth," he said, and wandered off. When he was gone, Sephiroth ran to the nearest tree and banged his head against it repeatedly.
"Sephiroth, you idiot! That was a guy, a guy!"
Vincent followed Sephiroth's directions to the letter and ended up at a white house. This must be it, he thought, looking at the mailbox, After all, Gramma's last name is Valentine, just like mine.
He knocked on the door, and when told to come in, he did. He walked over to his poor, bed-ridden grandmother's side.
"Vinny, how are you?"
"Fine, Gramma. How are you feeling?"
"Fine, Vinny. What in Heaven's name are you wearing?"
"Mother insisted that I wear a dress."
"That girl always was a loony. You know, she once made your father cross-dress, lipstick and everything."
"So, she's a certified loony?"
"Oh, Heavens, yes! Do you know how many times she's been institutionalized?"
"And you let me live with her?!"
"Well, you're old enough to strike out on your own now. I'm leaving you my house, and I am going to die soon, so my last wish is that you would live here and bury me in the woods, where I'll never be disturbed by your mother again."
"Okay, Gramma. I love you."
"I love you too, Vinny."
Several weeks later, the old lady died, and Vincent buried her in the woods, as she had requested. Vincent was a free man, and he spent the rest of his days in that little white house, not bothering anyone, except on Thursdays, when he went to play poker with Sephiroth. Vincent's mother was institutionalised, and they all lived happily ever after.
The End.