Drisella's Dilemma by JennyUsPplz

Disclaimer: 00 I don't own Cinderella. Audience: GASP!

Parody of Cinderella

Summary: Cinderella is on Drisella's last nerve, and Drisella will do ANYTHING to get her sister off her back… even if it means resorting to drastic measures… (PLEASE, READ AND REVIEW!)

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Drisella's and Bella's eyes lighted up as they jumped up and down with glee, "What does it say! What does it say!"

Cinderella snorted, as Ms. Beau began to read,

Dear Beau family,

We, the royal family, are hosting a ball, and are cordially inviting all young unmarried maidens to attend. It shall be held at the royal palace at nine o'clock in exactly one week. We hope you shall grace us with your presence.

Sincerely,

Prince Edward Charming

Drisella and Bella nearly fainted, seeing a letter "personally" addressed to themselves. "Oh, mother! Won't it be exciting! We may get to dance with the Prince!" Bella exclaimed.

Cinderella rolled her eyes, and then mimicked Bella's voice, "We may get to dance with the Prince! Ohmygosh! This is the best thing that's ever happened to me!" She pretended to swoon over the letter, while Drisella and Bella glared at her.
Drisella sighed, "Mother, oh, it'll just be delightful! But, what shall we wear? I want to look extra special, for the Prince, of course…"

Mrs. Beau beamed, "What luck we have! Last week I set up an appointment with your dressmaker, Mrs. Turner! She expects us to be at her shop tomorrow at noon."

Cindy gagged, "Dress shopping, again! We've only seen her three times this week!"

"What? You don't want to look special for the Prince?" Bella asked incredulously.

"No, and I don't bloody care about the prince. He can sod off for all I c—"

"ENOUGH!" Mrs. Beau cried out, "Cinderella, watch your language!"
"Oh, come off it! I don't swear nearly as badly as any of the boys—"

"And thank goodness you don't!" Ms. Beau looked extremely irritated, "Cinderella, I don't understand you. How can you not be excited to meet the Prince? I mean, he is royalty, is single, and is looking for a wife!"

"And that should make me excited because—?" Cinderella questioned, still not in the slightest eager to meet one of the most powerful and eligible men in society.

Drisella interrupted, "Because if you are chosen to become his wife – which at this rate you'll never be – you'll get to be QUEEN!"

"So?"

"You'd get to wear pearls—"

"They scratch too easily—"

"And diamonds—"

"They're too heavy—"

"And have hundreds of servants—"

"I am capable of working, you know!—"

"And you'd get to marry the Prince, who's handsome to boot—"

"Wait, aren't you engaged—"

"And, best of all, you'd be famous—"

"Aren't I already?"

Drisella glared at Cindy, who clearly wasn't getting the message.

"Well, if none of those things even matter to you, I don't see why you should go to the ball at all!"

Cinderella smiled widely, scaring Drisella just a little bit, "Exactly my point! See, mother? My ideas aren't totally insane."

Mrs. Beau pursed her lips, "Cinderella, listen to me, and listen to me good—"

"Well."

"What?"

"It's supposed to be 'listen to me well,' not 'listen to me good'—"

"CINDERELLA!" Her mother roared, her hands clenched in anger, "I do not want to hear another complaint from you about this ball or anything relating to this ball again. Do I make myself clear?" Mrs. Beau looked livid, and Cinderella sighed, "Yes, ma'am."

Her mother stared Cinderella down for a couple of seconds before taking a deep breath and continuing, "Tomorrow, girls, we will go to town to visit Madame Turner's dress shop and to purchase the rest of the necessities. And I don't want to hear any more complaints," She said darkly to Cinderella, who slowly nodded in response. Mrs. Beau cleared her throat, "Now, all of you get ready for supper. I expect you down at a quarter till."

The three young ladies rushed out of the door and each went to their rooms. Cinderella plopped onto the bed and sighed, I should get ready for supper... Well, I can just lie here a little longer. After all, I'm not very hungry… She thought and drifted off into sleep.

Cinderella groaned. She was in line to meet the Prince… Well, meet was too kind a word. Be criticized was probably more correct. She was in a nearly-neon pink gown, with extremely frilly sleeves that rubbed against her face when she turned. She batted them down angrily. What a waste of time…

"Mademoiselle Cinderella de Beau." The man wearing a terribly ugly tunic called, reading her name off the list. It was her turn to –erm—meet the Prince.

She slowly walked up to him, not trusting herself with walking in her terribly tight, ugly two-inch heels, that we slowly cutting off her circulation.

After reaching him, she stopped. Wait… What am I supposed to do again? She remembered her mother's words, or well, she tried at least. Cinderella didn't notice the Prince, circling her. He grunted, waking her up from her reverie. "What?" She spat.

"Curtsy," He commanded, and she quickly followed.

The Prince turned to look at the short man standing next to him, "Ungraceful, too short, terribly ugly dress, skin too tanned, feet too bluish-purple, hair too—well, just too dull—, eyes too light, and no bosom." The man quickly wrote down the Prince's words.

Cinderella fumed, "Excuse me!"

But the Prince ignored her, "NEXT!"

Cinderella, nearly boiling with anger, marched up to him, only stopping when their faces were about three inches apart. She hissed, "Now see here, Prince Charming, I didn't wait here for six hours for you to—"

He backed away and muttered to the short man again, "Oh, put down 'rude, conceited, and angry.'"

Oblivious to the short man asked, "Will that be all?" The Prince surveyed Cinderella again, "And 'terribly posture'… That will be all."

He ironically smiled cordially at Cinderella, "NEXT!"

Cinderella cried out to nobody in particular, and in a fit, marched—probably breaking at least one of her heels—back up the stairs to her carriage, where her sisters were already waiting. "WHAT A JERK!"

Drisella sighed, "But what a handsome jerk—"

"WAKE UP!" Bella suddenly exclaimed.

"Wha—"

"WAKE UP!" Bella screamed now shaking Cinderella.

"Bella, stop wai—"

Cinderella's eyes flew open to see her family hovering around her bed. She noticed they were all fully dressed.

"Cinderella," Her mother smiled a little too happily, making Cinderella feel queasy. , "WHY AREN'T YOU DRESSED!"

"I just woke up—"

"I CALLED YOU DOWNSTAIRS FOR BREAKFAST AN HOUR AGO! OUR MEETING WITH MRS. TURNER IS IN FIFTEEN MINUTES, AND YOU'RE NOT EVEN DRESSED! GET UP!" Her mother yelled, throwing the bed-covers off of Cinderella.

Cindy shot up out of bed, and moved to get ready as her family began to exit her room. Her mother turned around and said warningly, "Three minutes."

Cinderella rushed to go find a nice clean gown to put on, while thinking about her dream. What a jerk… I'll never marry a conceited idiot like him! Never.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N: Ack, sorry I couldn't make the chapter longer and funnier. I rewrote the scene with her and the Prince at least five times (each with a difference scenario), but none of them seemed to make him conceited enough. This one certainly turned out differently than I had planned. Anyways, please read and review and let me know how you liked this chapter!