Once upon a time there was a Princess waiting for her Prince. They were
very much in love however there was a problem. Whenever they were talking
to each other over instant messenger it took him forever to respond.
Her Mother the queen had warned her that she should not fall in love with someone who had typed so incredibly slow.
"Anyone who types that slowly must be daft" she told her repeatedly whenever she saw her daughter talking to him.
However the princess did not mind because her prince was her sun, moon, and stars. She would wax poetically about him in her livejournal while she was waiting for him to reply to her.
Of course since he typed about as quickly as a one fingered illiterate she managed to write a fair amount of sonnets on him, enough to fill several novels. However, she did not mind because writing about her love was her favorite hobby. A plus side of this was that as she continued to write her sonnets her writing improved drastically.
She had gone from writing "true luv luv!!!111" to something that actually resembled the English language and along the way she had developed a large group of friends who loved her writing.
One day one of her friends suggested something that would change her life forever:
"Emma u wrtiin is sooooooooooo good y don't u get it pubished!!!111"
The Princess took her friends incredibly mangled words to heart and the next day she printed off her several hundred pages of writing and went to the village publisher.
The village publisher took one look at her writing and saw it, instantly, for what it was; complete crap. However, he had an epiphany: it seemed that online, mediocre writing was praised and set on a pedestal above all other stories while good stories were ignored, their authors labeled heretics. If this was true in the real world as well, her writing would be a best seller in no time. Dollar signs flashed through his mind and he wrote up a contract for her as quickly as you can say "and the sonnets that lurk in the depths of writing hell came alive to torment poor helpless souls."
In the meantime her Prince had finally finished typing his message to her. He waited patiently, expecting her to reply instantly, like she had always done before. He waited and waited, however the screen remained blank.
Perhaps she was kidnapped by an evil prince, he thought to himself in horror. He ran to his trusty donkey jumping onto its back. "Onward," he yelled in his most heroic and manly of voices and than proceeded to spend the next half an hour convincing the animal to move. I knew I should have spent the extra money and bought the newer model he thought to himself as his trusty mule slowly trotted toward his fair lady's Condo.
It took him many days to reach his destination. However, his effort was not in vain as he approached the old sign that proclaimed: "Royalty Suites Condominiums." Running up the dingy stairs covered with used condoms and empty Cup O' Ramen cups, he knocked heroically on the door.
The Queen came to the door opening it glaring up at his tall, manly, frame and proceeded to scream: "What are you doing pounding on the door like you own the place at 7:00 in the damned morning." she continued on her tirade for several minutes, while the Prince went and got some coffee. He returned as she was winding down, her face had turned a lovely magenta color.
"Madame is your daughter home" he asked mindless of the cold glare that she gave him.
"You mean that tramp no she bloody well isn't she left home with the money she got from that damn book of hers. Didn't give a single dime to me her loving mother." the Prince stared at her in shock turning around and leaving the Queen to mumble manically to herself.
'How could this be?' he thought to himself, stunned, his tru luv luv would never forget about him! He would find out the meaning of this he thought, as he marched, step by uber manly step, back to his steed. Trotting bravely forward, it would have had a greater effect if he any idea where he was going.
Many, many moons later the Princess sat in front of her new pool talking to her beloved Prince II. He was her sun, moon, stars, and a fast typer to boot. She no longer wrote sonnets however, the money that she got from her one book was enough to secure her financially for the next several generations. She smiled sipping her strawberry daiquiri.
She vaguely remembered being in love with someone before him however she shrugged it off as nothing more than déjà vu and somewhere near Tampa a lone Prince continued his ceaseless journey.
Evil Ferret
Her Mother the queen had warned her that she should not fall in love with someone who had typed so incredibly slow.
"Anyone who types that slowly must be daft" she told her repeatedly whenever she saw her daughter talking to him.
However the princess did not mind because her prince was her sun, moon, and stars. She would wax poetically about him in her livejournal while she was waiting for him to reply to her.
Of course since he typed about as quickly as a one fingered illiterate she managed to write a fair amount of sonnets on him, enough to fill several novels. However, she did not mind because writing about her love was her favorite hobby. A plus side of this was that as she continued to write her sonnets her writing improved drastically.
She had gone from writing "true luv luv!!!111" to something that actually resembled the English language and along the way she had developed a large group of friends who loved her writing.
One day one of her friends suggested something that would change her life forever:
"Emma u wrtiin is sooooooooooo good y don't u get it pubished!!!111"
The Princess took her friends incredibly mangled words to heart and the next day she printed off her several hundred pages of writing and went to the village publisher.
The village publisher took one look at her writing and saw it, instantly, for what it was; complete crap. However, he had an epiphany: it seemed that online, mediocre writing was praised and set on a pedestal above all other stories while good stories were ignored, their authors labeled heretics. If this was true in the real world as well, her writing would be a best seller in no time. Dollar signs flashed through his mind and he wrote up a contract for her as quickly as you can say "and the sonnets that lurk in the depths of writing hell came alive to torment poor helpless souls."
In the meantime her Prince had finally finished typing his message to her. He waited patiently, expecting her to reply instantly, like she had always done before. He waited and waited, however the screen remained blank.
Perhaps she was kidnapped by an evil prince, he thought to himself in horror. He ran to his trusty donkey jumping onto its back. "Onward," he yelled in his most heroic and manly of voices and than proceeded to spend the next half an hour convincing the animal to move. I knew I should have spent the extra money and bought the newer model he thought to himself as his trusty mule slowly trotted toward his fair lady's Condo.
It took him many days to reach his destination. However, his effort was not in vain as he approached the old sign that proclaimed: "Royalty Suites Condominiums." Running up the dingy stairs covered with used condoms and empty Cup O' Ramen cups, he knocked heroically on the door.
The Queen came to the door opening it glaring up at his tall, manly, frame and proceeded to scream: "What are you doing pounding on the door like you own the place at 7:00 in the damned morning." she continued on her tirade for several minutes, while the Prince went and got some coffee. He returned as she was winding down, her face had turned a lovely magenta color.
"Madame is your daughter home" he asked mindless of the cold glare that she gave him.
"You mean that tramp no she bloody well isn't she left home with the money she got from that damn book of hers. Didn't give a single dime to me her loving mother." the Prince stared at her in shock turning around and leaving the Queen to mumble manically to herself.
'How could this be?' he thought to himself, stunned, his tru luv luv would never forget about him! He would find out the meaning of this he thought, as he marched, step by uber manly step, back to his steed. Trotting bravely forward, it would have had a greater effect if he any idea where he was going.
Many, many moons later the Princess sat in front of her new pool talking to her beloved Prince II. He was her sun, moon, stars, and a fast typer to boot. She no longer wrote sonnets however, the money that she got from her one book was enough to secure her financially for the next several generations. She smiled sipping her strawberry daiquiri.
She vaguely remembered being in love with someone before him however she shrugged it off as nothing more than déjà vu and somewhere near Tampa a lone Prince continued his ceaseless journey.
Evil Ferret