Driving off towards the grand ball, Cinderella knew her night would be perfect. She admired her beautiful pumpkin carriage, her friends standing tall as majestic horses and strapping coachmen, and – most of all – her beautiful, beautiful ball gown.
She only wished she'd known of her fairy godmother before. And the magic! Oh, she could not believe her night had turned around such, with the wave of a hand.
Even the song was stuck in her head. Cinderella moved as if she were a conducter, just dreaming a little.
Just a wave of my stick, and to finish the trick, Bibbidi-bobbidi-
The day before…
"And you call yourself a fairy godmother? Come on, you have the spell almost ready, you are only missing the last syllable!"
It was a strange sight. A woman of advanced age in a plush blue-pink mantle was treading a hole into her living room floor and waving a small stick around, talking to herself.
Arrayed around her were an assortment of winter squash and old rickety dresses. Running throughout the whole room were a bunch of mice. One could almost think they were meant for a science experiment.
Wary but determined, the fairy godmother started chanting.
"Bibbidi-bobbidi-bib".
One pumpkin started growing. So far so good. Then it started laughing. Less optimal. And then it swallowed an errant will-o'-wisp floating around and introduced itself as Jack O'Lantern. Well. Next.
"Bibbidi-bobbidi-bat".
It started out great, four mice turned into spotless horses. The coachmen, however… The fairy godmother never wanted to deal with headless horsemen again.
"Bibbidi-bobbidi-bop".
One of rags turned into a dress, alright. A ball gown? No. A black gothic dress that was a few centuries too early for current fashion. Perfect for the next Witch's Ball on Walpurgis Night, though.
"Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo".
Perfect.