Interesting to think, how long it's been since I was last on this profile. This isn't an actual "superray" -- although I first heard the original story from a movie (by the East Berlin film co), this is an actual dialoguescript that I want to see performed someday. The character of "The Author" is more of a narrator than someone who actually comments on what's happening.
This was first written for a creative writing course (the prompt was to write a dialogue).
Thanks to Adorable Twin Sister for suggesting the joke!
Enjoy!
The Beggar King
A Dialogue by silverjigsaw aka Nina aka The Author.
Produced by size1 width100 noshade>The Author: Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a beautiful princess named Leah.
Leah: No relationship to Star Wars.
The Author: Everyone knows that a beautiful princess is simply a commodity in the Royal Relationship Market.
Merchant: Princesses! We got princesses! Lots of princesses!
Shopkeeper: Naïve waifs! We got all kinds! We got wood-cutter daughters, we got mermaids, we got little ones with pretty voices, we even got some fallen princesses.
Merchant: Where did you get those princesses?
Marketeer: Duchesses! Git yer duchesses here! Short ones, tall ones, wrinkly ones, even little itty baby ones if that's yer thing!
Duke: My wife would enjoy having a little girl to dote upon…
Marketeer: That's exactly what I meant.
The Author: So her father hoped to sale her off to the highest bidder. Men came from all over in hopes of winning the heart of the beautiful princess. There was just one problem, though.
Leah: And just what was that?
The Author: She was spoiled rotten. A complete brat.
Leah: I AM NOT. How dare you say such a thing! I'm Princess Leah! Just because I happen to own all the best things and have all the furniture in the house and don't care anything anyone says doesn't mean I'm a brat! CLEAN THAT DRESSER BETTER! I want to be able to see my face shine in that wood!
The Author: You couldn't stand her, really.
Leah: Did you say something?
The Author: What?
Leah: Watch me throw this fit. Growl.
The Author: Her father became irritated that she rejected every single suitor in the house.
King Leah's Father: I am irritated that you rejected every single suitor in the house. For one thing, it's a castle. For another thing, you could be less mean about it. After all, it's a kilt, not a skirt. And a robe, not a dress. And just because the French bathe only once a year doesn't make their offer of perfume any more or less offensive. You know what? That's it. I give up. You're going to marry the next beggar that walks through these doors.
King Beggar: Hmm…rather convenient that I decided to listen at the doors rather than walk through them. Butler! Fetch me my beggar clothes.
Butler: Sir's beggar clothing.
King Beggar: I'm dressed in shabby yet chic clothing and my toes are popping out of my shoes, but something still seems to be missing.
Butler: Would Sir like a fake beard?
King Beggar: Thank you, Butler, that will do nicely. (Enters Castle) Behold! I am a beggar and I've walked through these doors!
King Leah's Father: Congratulations! You get to marry my lovely daughter! And there's no catch at all!
Leah: But you and the Author just said…
King Leah's Father: No. Catch.
The Author: The Beggar King took Princess Leah to an abandoned cottage on the border of his kingdom and…taught her to be his wife.
King Beggar: Cook my food, wife! What'd you think I was going to say?
Leah: This cottage lacks some basic conditions I require in my housing dwellings, like a door. And sanitation.
King Beggar: Then clean my house, wife.
Leah: I'm PRINCESS LEAH.
King Beggar: Watch me throw this fit. Growl. These meatballs aren't half-bad, by the way.
Leah: I had no idea how hard it was to cook and clean. All I did before was complain about the mistakes everyone else made about cooking and cleaning for me. Wow. I'm a total bitch.
The Author: Because he was supposed to be a beggar, they quickly ran out of food. The Beggar King wasn't taking home any food or money.
Leah: I should have married a butcher.
The Author: So Leah learned to make pottery.
Leah: Duh.
The Author: She set up a table at the market, right by the entrance so everyone could see.
Leah: What a great spot! I'm surprised no one wanted this spot.
The Author: She worked from dusk till mid-morning to set up her stand.
Kiosk Worker: Apples! Apples! I swear I'm not a snake…
Store Owner: Mangoes! Sweet, loveable, squeezable mangoes here!
Shopkeeper: Dates! Gotcha fresh dates here! Good dates, bad dates, awkward dates, silent dates, group dates, prom dates, any kind of dates you could ever want!
Leah: Didn't you sell naïve waifs before?
Shopkeeper: There were…issues…and anyway, I already sold you.
Knight: (riding in at full gallop) Mad fly! Mad fly!
Leah: MY TABLE! YOU RUINED ALL MY POTTERY! Watch me throw this fit! Growl! I'm going to go cry in the woods now! Oh, pretty purple well, I wish I could be a good wife for my husband!
Well: …Really? You don't want all your pottery back or to go back home or anything?
The Author: What's obvious to everyone who could hear the well talking is that the well was a magic well, who decided to grant her wish.
Well: Or maybe a rich husband, or to kill your current one?
Leah: No, no, he…teaches me to be a wife really well.
Kitchen Boy: Hi, I'm a random kitchen boy.
Leah: You're really far away from the castle, aren't you?
Kitchen Boy: The kingdom is very small. Say, I bet you make fantastic meatballs. How'd you like to cook for the castle kitchen staff?
Leah: Will you pay me?
Kitchen Boy: Well, I won't pay you. We have a payroll manager for that.
Leah: Sweet. I might be able to take home table scraps to my husband, too.
Kitchen Boy: Kinda focused there, arencha, sweet cheeks?
Head Chef: (Later) Say, these meatballs aren't half-bad. How'd you like to present them at the King's Great Huge Feast Where He Presents His Queen?
Leah: Let me think about it.
Head Chef: You don't have a lot of time. It's kind of going on now.
Leah: Oh. Sure. I'll change from one spotless apron to another, and take off my hat.
Kitchen Boy: Here's your pot of meatballs. Careful; the bottom of the pot is hot.
Leah: (takes it by the bottom of the pot) Gee, this is so exciting!
Beggar King: (Upstairs) Yes, Cousin Burger, I do, actually, have a Queen, unlike you, who is frequently found feeding breakfast sandwiches to commercial actors. By the way, your gargantuan head is kind of creepy.
Trumpeteer: (blows horn…in a non-sexual way) The royal food is here!
Leah: Your Royal Highness, I present to you, meatballs.
Beggar King: Fantastic. Now why don't you sit down in this nice seat next to me?
Leah: But that's where the Queen sits.
Beggar King: Exactly.
Leah: …
Beggar King: …
Leah: I'm leaving now.
Beggar King: (grabs her) You can't! You're hotter than any commercial actor!
Leah: Get your filthy paws off of me! I'm married, you know!
Beggar King: Exactly. You're married to me.
Leah: What?
Beggar King: Does…this look familiar? (smacks fake beard on)
Leah: ZOMG Your face is askew!
Beggar King: No, no, I'm the beggar!
Leah: Watch me throw a fit. I STARVED TO DEATH PRACTICALLY, MY WHOLE DISPLAY GOT KNOCKED DOWN, AND YOU WERE A KING THE WHOLE TIME?
Beggar King: …Yes!
The Author: So Leah and the Beggar King sat down with the Burger King and enjoyed the rest of their meal, including the meatballs, which weren't half-bad.
Leah: Those six dancers are very nice.
Beggar King: Dancers? Those are all of my subjects. The kingdom is very small.
Leah: Yay for low budgets!