"Sort through the grain, plant the roses, what else...Ah yes, clean the fireplace!"
The evil stepmother straightened the ruffles on her chest with her fat fingers and commanded,
"Let's go, girls!"
Cinderella was angry, and, therefore, she was scrubbing the fireplace with such fervour that the air was thick with coal dust. To get the fireplace properly clean, she had to climb almost entirely inside.
"This accursed ball!" she breathed out through gritted teeth, in time with movement of the scrubbing brush, and right away an inexplicable force spun her around and tossed her onto the carpet in front of a huge fireplace.
"I am going to complain to the Ministry!" someone's voice hissed nearby. "What is this shambles, anyway?!"
Cinderella looked up and saw a man descending the stairs. He was wearing an old nightshirt and using a foil as a walking-stick, leaning heavily on it.
"Behemoth, get her out of here pronto, or else he'll bite our heads off," the same voice hissed.
"It's too late," someone meowed from the right. "Fagot, get the girl to come to, and I'll go make my explanations to Messire."
Immediately, the gentleman attired in a black frock coat appeared in her field of vision and pulled her upwards, saying,
"Come, mademoiselle, get up. You'd wanted to go to the ball, if I remember correctly? Here's your lucky chance!"
Around Cinderella, ladies and gentlemen were appearing, exiting the fireplace, and ascending the stairs. What surprised the poor girl the most was that all of the ladies were completely naked. As soon as she thought that, the gentleman in the black frock coat, as if reading her mind, said,
"In your place, I would be glad of this circumstance. You don't have too many ball dresses, after all."
"True enough," thought Cinderella and briskly headed up the staircase.