Once upon a time…

Goldie Locks, notorious villain and porridge-stealer of Make-Believe Land was in a sweet – sour moment in her jail cell at the Criminal Fairy Hybrids To Sick And Twisted For Normal Civilization (CFHTSATFNC for short.)

The sweetness was due to the news that her father Dr Newt Eugene Ignatius Aloysius Montgomery Locks Pd, the professor that had standardized the thickness of cauldron-bottoms throughout Make-Believe Land had finally bought the farm, passing away when trampled to death by the eight-legged racehorses he was breeding for financial purposes. The perpetrators of the crime had so far gone unpunished, mainly because no-one could catch them. The official letter Goldie had received from her father's colleagues was a small scribble on a pink post-it not that read simply that Big Nose was dead.

The other sweet news was that since Goldie's mother had died horrifically in a terrible typing incident, Goldie was supposed to be the only benefactor of Newt's cauldron fortune.

The sour taste was the news that the wily professor, to keep his money-grubbing daughter off his bazillions, the old dwarf had donated 99.99 of all his profits and holdings to his two favorite charities, Alcoholics Anonymous and the RSPCFC (Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Fictional Characters). So in fact, all that Goldie really inherited from her bastard of a dad was a copy of Playgnome, half a ham sandwich, the manor's outhouse, a battered copy of Pride and Prejudice along with several dozen cauldrons and a lame eight-legged pony called Lenny.

It was only a small consolation to know that now she could charge rent for the elves to use the manor toilet.

However, one of her compatriots had come up with a cunning plan.

"Sell the cauldrons." Hattie, the wicked queen advised. "I met the most wonderful little man over in Fiction the other day. A little smelly, but that's what you get for quality these days. Fletcher, he said his name was. Mundungus Fletcher. Here's his card." A gilded piece of paper that probably cost more than Goldie could steal in a year was thrust under her nose.

"'His Royal Highness, Mund Un Gus. No job too big, no fee too big. Wide range of talents from accounting to stealing back massive amounts of gold from a deceased loved one. Call Mund Un Gus, Prince.' "

"It's sort of an in-joke. Prince of Thieves, see?"

"Sometimes I wonder about you."

"Come on, Locks! With that kind of money you can afford to hire Artemis Fowl as your lawyer."

And that small conversation was what lead to the assembled people that reluctantly sloped up for jury duty to converse animatedly among each other before Beau Peep announced and announcement.

"Not Guilty!" The courtroom flew into an uproar.

"Bribery!"

"Fakery!"

"Mummy!"

Barry the Wolf scrambled to his feet. "I have been violated!" He bellowed. "I want to see some punishment!"

"I want my lawyer!"

"I want my solicitor!"

"I want my mummy!"

Goldie jumped to the desktop. "Can't catch me!" She crowed.

The judge banged his gravel on the dais. "Miss Locks, curb yourself before I find you in contempt!" Goldie stuck out her tongue and made a rude gesture before skipping down the front steps of the Kangaroo Court, remembering to sign some autographs before she left.

Goldie Locks, now landlady of an outhouse in the ever-expanding settlement of Typing-Error, and proud new owner of a battered copy of Pride and Prejudice and a lame eight legged pony tried to settle back into life as a full citizen. She really did.

Honest and truly.

Alright, maybe not. Didn't have you there for a minute, did we?

Goldie meandered down the street, hands in the pockets of her new nylon flowing trench coat. On every second step she stumbled on the hem, but that didn't matter cause it was cool (the current fashions in Make-Believe Land never fitted properly anyway, so she just looked like another never-was). She'd always wanted a coat like this since she saw five movies on the one ticket when she was younger. And now she had the real deal. No doubt Neo was still wondering why his coat decided to evaporate. Fastest hands in the west.

Oh, the naivety of fictional characters.

Goldie snatched an apple from a nearby cart and bit into it. In the town square, a hawker was advertising the Daily Fable.

"Extra, extra! Read all about it! The Boy Who Lived caught in compromising position with griffin! Obi Wan, dead or just faking it! Jedi mind trick at large! Puff the Magic Dragon goes on rampage, two kittens injured and a budgie receives counseling! For more details of the wedding of Gandalf the Grey to the Wicked Witch of the West, see this week's issue of Fairies Weekly!"

Goldie chewed her apple and picked up a copy of the Quibbler. The headline bared 'Chewbacca's hair-plug shock'. She looked past the magazine and stared at the hawker.

"Hay, aren't you-?"

The tall man looked down on her disdainfully and aloofly flicked his long scarf up over his shoulder. "Yes. I am the Time Lord, Gallifreyan, the Doctor."

Goldie twiddled her thumbs. " Actually, I was thinking you were the guy with the scarf and the jelly babies gimmick."

The Doctor looked annoyed. "That too. No one remembers you for any quality work you did."

The dwarf-fairy hybrid glanced at one of his papers. Underneath the headline 'Lonely Beast Prince, in having experience with Princesses, seeks poodle' was a photo of a huge castle on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea.

Visions of golden candlesticks and talking clocks danced in Goldie's head.

"Where's that? Who owns it?"

"That? That's on the edge of Fairy Tale and Middle Earth, which you can probably see, being slightly less dim-witted than those who religiously watch things like daytime soaps. It belongs to the Beast."

"The who?"

"The Beast."

"How did he become a beast? Did he eat some bad clams?"

"A witch."

"A witch? A witch? Why's it always a witch?"

"How should I know? It's not my department."

It was a nice place. Nice view. Didn't look like there was any electricity, but still. There were no castles hereabouts until you went into Fiction City, or wandered even as far as Original-Fiction Capitol. In that moment, the house on the hill became Goldie's next target.

"Oi! You didn't pay for that!"

"I like a woman who stands up for herself."

"And who the hell are you?"

"The name's Gaston. Just Gaston."

"Well, Just Gaston. Get out of my way or you'll be Just Passed-On."

"Attitude. I like that in a woman."

Goldie groaned and reached out to take a passing woman by the arm.

"Wasyername?"

"Belle." Goldie pushed them both together.

"Belle, Gaston. Gaston, Belle. I hope you have a very fulfilling life with together."

"Who owns the horse?" Someone demanded behind her. Goldie jumped as she was almost bowled over. "Neigh."

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Neigh." Lenny insisted. "Neigh, snort, whinny." Goldie gritted her teeth.

"I'd sent you to the slaughterhouse if the pigs hadn't taken over. Babe in one mean son of a bitch."

"Snort, bite, nip."

"Watch your language, horse."

And so she and Lenny went on their way. Around noon that day she knocked on the door of the castle on the hill. It creaked open seemingly by itself. "Creepy."

She entered. Lenny tried to follow, but tripped over his own hooves.

"No. No, you stay out here. Stay. Out. Here. You."

The halls were deserted lit by only a few flickering candles.

"Hellloooo," Goldie called softly. "Any mad megalomaniacs waiting in the dark to kill the poor helpless female?"

Then something crashed into her ankles. She looked down and saw that a candlestick being chased by a wind-up clock had tripped over her feet. "Good grief."

"Oi, my head." The candlestick muttered, holding a candle support to his, his head, Goldie guessed. The clock was the first to rouse and he shook himself menacingly.

"What the hell are you doing in here, you young scamp? Do you want to be used as a chew toy?"

"Cogsworth, mind your manners." The candlestick righted itself. He bowed low to her. "Lumiere at your service, milady. Pray tell, are you the one that has come to lift the curse?"

"Eh, what?"

"The ancient scriptures tell of a fair maiden who will one day come to steal away the heart of the Master and lift the curse for all time."

"Whatever." Goldie shook the candlestick off her foot. "What ancient scriptures? I'm sure they're expensive – er, impressive."

Lumiere pointed up toward the wall. On it was a framed book. 'Disney's Beauty and the Beast in a Hundred Words.'

'Oh no.' Goldie thought. 'Why didn't the paper-hawker tell me that this castle was an unofficial plot point for Disney Land?'

"Who disturbs my solitude?" Someone bellowed.

"May I assume that that is the beast?"

"Eh, yes. I recommend that you run now."

"No way. My grandmother looked like a demon from the pits of Robot hell, but I still had to sit on her knee every Christmas. No jerkface scares me off from what I want to steal, er, er, seal away for safekeeping. No even if he's big and hairy and with slobbering jaws …" She then noticed that both clock and candlestick had gone completely rigid. "He's right behind me, isn't he?"

She turned around slowly. A huge, hulking creature with fangs that could easily pierce your skull was facing her. Apparently he had been patiently waiting for her to finish her game with the ornaments.

"Fantastic."

The Beast looked down on her before quite suddenly offering her a paw. "Oh gawd, it is so nice to have a visitor in all these years. You have absolutely no idea how much of a pain it was to try and get someone in to put up some fresh wallpaper. Like, you know, you would think just because I look menacing I'd tear your face off. And which is a really stupid attitude when you look at some of the residents in Canon Corner…"

Goldie stared partly in shock and partly in amusement. This was the Beast?

"You absolutely must join me for dinner."

"I refuse to wear that!" Goldie dashed down the dress the candlestick was struggling to hold up. "But the Master insists," he protested weakly from under a fold of fabric.

"I don't care if the Master wants me to wear a bikini. I will not insult women everywhere and the feminist movement. If he wants to perv on someone he can go check out the house-cat."

"Poor Fluffy was turned into the royal scratching post." Cogsworth said almost apologetically. "Such a sweet little kitty."

Five minutes later Goldie pushed open the door to the dining hall. The Beast looked up from his seat. "Why aren't you wearing that dress?"

"Because I don't fancy looking like a cross between a toilet dolly and a hooker." Goldie replied. She gestured to a silver mirror that was by the Beast's elbow. "What's that?"

"A magic mirror."

Isn't it always? Goldie thought.

"It allows you to see what you have left behind. I though you might want to use it."

"Why would I want-? Oh, the scriptures, right." She took the mirror and looked into it. Nothing happened for a long while, then a face jumped out at her.

"Yah!"

"Snort." Said Lenny.

"Take it back! I don't want it!"

The Beast came grandly to his feet. "Dance with me?"

"Eh, okay."

As the furniture miraculously burst into show tunes, the Beast looked down on Goldie, who was concentrating on avoiding his feet. "Goldie."

"What?"

"I know we have only known each other for a short time, but I think I love you." Goldie stopped there and then. He must have read 'Prince Charming's 101 Ways To Get Laid On A First Date'. "Kiss me, Goldie!"

"Are you nuts?" She exploded.

"Oh, please." He said. "You see, there's an enchanted rose in the attic and if the last petal falls without me experiencing true love's kiss, I'm stuck like this forever!"

"Have you been watching Shrek?" Goldie asked shrewdly. The Beast pouted and began to get teary eyed. "Oh, god, don't. Um, it's not you, it's me. I just prefer men with less facial hair. We can still be friends. I'm not right for you. You'll meet somebody else."

"I don't think I've heard so many bad clichés in the one paragraph." Cogsworth said.

"Look, I've really got to go somewhere." She stepped back.

"Fine. Leave me to nurse a broken heart!" The Beast bellowed. Goldie turned tail and ran. As she was at the gate, she bumped into the same dark haired pretty woman from earlier.

"Have you seen my father?" Belle asked.

"Try in there." Goldie pointed to the castle.

Once she was safely back in town, she opened a bag she had hidden under her coat.

"Why didn't you break the curse?" Lumiere demanded.

"Are you insane? He was cute and all, but you can get a dozen princes a penny these days. Talking candlesticks are much, much rarer."

And they all lived happily ever after.