The story of the twelve dancing princesses, you know- the ones whose father locked them up every night but they still managed to have some fun- its always been one of Grimm's less well known tales of horror. Well it's my tale too, and I wanna tell it from my point of view.
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Our father was a real bastard, and I'm not just shooting the old crap cuz he's my father or anything, but seriously, he was one sadistic old bastard, one of the worst, as all the princes who lost their heads would tell yuh- if they still had a mouth to talk with.
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Well in case you dont know the story I'll give you the background. There was once this king-- a real hard ass, and he had twelve daughters, "each more beautiful than the last," which I guess makes me the best looking since I'm the youngest--but anyway that doesn't matter here. So as each of the girls grew up one after another he really started to freak out cuz now they werent just pretty, they were hot, and he wasn't about to let them all go off and get married and leave him. So he kept 'em under his eye all day long and locked 'em all in one big room at night--he did it personally too--to make sure. Well every morning when the old sot would come in hed find the soles wore out of all the girls shoes--danced out, as a matter o'fact. He set guards outside their doors, had the rooms searched repeatedly, and questioned everyone--but he wasnt clever enough. Yes he never was very clever--even his final solution to his 'daughter problem' was so phony--it was the classic Grimm's cop out: welcome in others to solve your problems for you, give 'im a wife if he wins, chops his head off if he doesn't.
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Our old father mighta been slow sometimes but he sure knew how to get rid of enemies, the sonuvabitch. Well he announced his deadly little competition and the first sucker promptly showed up. He got three days in the room next to ours--the poor slob--Elphaba, our eldest sister and ringleader, made sure he was drugged, and then Bam-- off with his head! It wasnt our problem, he knew the risks, as did all the others. But they just kept coming! What idiots, what morons, what slobs! They were all phonies of course, came riding up on their big beautiful horses, all sure of themselves-- went riding out on their big beautiful pikes as the old sonuvabitch's new rampart decorations. Chop, chop, chop. Poor bastards, and Hell! How the old man had a good time, destroying all those people's lives, not to mention leaving his neighbors heirless like him, though he was still pissed that we were still having a damn good time in spite of all his efforts, and we were sure as hell going through a lot of shoes.
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Well one day the latest prince had just been dispatched when in comes this old soldier--crap I mean old! He wasnt any phony though--he looked like hell, bad leg, gout, hearing loss, ratty old clothes, looked like he had nothing left to lose, 'cept maybe an arm. Well he's the one that found us out, caught us in the act as it were. Caught us sneaking down through the trapdoor under Elphabas bed, down the secret staircase, out through the under-ground gardens--magic gardens too, with almighty gold and silver trees that cried if yuh hurt 'em or plucked a flower, our mother made them before she off-ed herself, like I said, our father was a sadistic bastard, drove people to do funny things. Anyway, he was invisible, the old soldier; some old hag in the market had given him a magic cloak when he told her that he was planning to try the kings gamble, and he followed us. Followed us across the hidden lake where our princes ferried us to the crystal palace where we danced the night away. He followed us all three nights, drank our goddam goblets dry, weighed down our boats, made us think our heads were all screwed on upside down, and on the last day he told. Told the old sot everything about it, anyway that was the end of our fun.
O.O so many curse words... (sugaplum: have u read catcher in thh rye?)
that damn old king! he neds to die! (read the results for the rest!!))
The old sadist kept his word though, made the old soldier his heir and presented him with any daughter he wanted. Poor old Elphaba, she was our ringleader, now she's our Queen; at least she's not married to a phony anyway. "I'm not a young man anymore," (he was sure right about that!) "so I think I'll have your oldest daughter." Sounds kinda terrible don't it, like he's ordering a fancy wine or something like that. Well the old man got his in the end, the old soldier was more than happy to turn him over to all the angry fathers of all the phony princes that were decorating the castle walls; he got his crown they got their revenge, and we aren't locked up at night anymore. I sure do miss my old prince though--I'll have to get Elphaba to buy me a new one.
