The Witch and the Princess
upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a beautiful princess named
Sylvia. She lived in an enormous palace
and had over a thousand admirers. Her
hair was like strands of gold and her garments were of the finest silk in the
led a sheltered and proper life until the day she was kidnapped by an evil
witch. That morning, Sylvia took a walk
through the vast grounds of the palace and came across a flower she
particularly liked. She plucked it out
of the ground and noticed that there was another one of the same kind a few
feet away. She picked that too, and
found yet another one! She traveled
farther and farther away from the path, picking the flowers as she went. Presently, she looked back and realized that
she was lost. Being a damsel in
distress, she wept and wept and did nothing useful to get herself out of her predicament. Oh, where was a handsome prince when you
Suddenly, Sylvia heard a
scary-sounding cackling coming from behind her. Before she knew what was happening, a green, gnarled, ugly hand
covered her mouth. She immediately
fainted out of fright.
The witch cackled some more, and
carried the damsel back to her scary-looking hut to tie her to a chair. Ha! And Blair thought SHE made a better
witch! Well! She may catch more innocent people than any other witch in
England, but she only catches commoners…mere peasants. Whereas I have captured a princess…the most
beautiful one that ever lived, at that.
Plus the fact that I was Cinderella's stepmother in a past life… though
no one ever believes me on that. But no
matter now. Fifty points for Morta…and
more coming, if I can keep the lass.
That should top Blair's lead…which was only ten points…ha! She'll have to do better than that!
Morta's green face-paint and stick-on warts were starting to annoy her. Moreover, her white hair dye did nothing to
improve her appearance. As soon as she
and the damsel were inside, the witch set to work brewing a scary-looking
potion, rolling her eyes as she did so.
Those princesses were so easy to scare: a little tomato sauce mixed with
spaghetti noodles, and they believed that one really did feed them the blood
and brains of past victims.
Sylvia awoke to find a hideous,
warty, evil witch looming over her.
Eyes wide open with shock, she looked around the room and found it to be
unbearably ugly. "Is…is that a frog's
toe?" she stuttered.
The witch was horrified. A "frog's toe?" "You mean the toe of frog!" she corrected harshly. Then her tone softened. After all, the girl did not know any
better. "Yes, I think it blends
splendidly with the lace curtains, don't you?"
The princess gave a little squeak
before she fainted again.
The witch looked at her with a dour
expression on her face. "You're no
fun," she whined to the unconscious damsel. Frustrated, she plopped down in a chair to do some knitting. She found the hobby relaxing.
It was another thirty minutes before
Sylvia's long-lashed eyes fluttered open, and she started struggling against
her bonds. The witch, startled, sprang
up out of her chair, dropped the knitting and dashed to her cauldron, which she
started stirring. She wanted the scene
of a scary-looking witch stirring a steaming potion to be the first thing the
damsel saw. If it was not, the effect
would be ruined.
"Do you know what I'm making,
little princess?" she asked.
The princess's eyes became round
with curiosity. "What?"
"I'm making a potion, of the
blood and brains of rats. And you shall
drink it, or else I'll turn you into a frog!
Mwahahahaha!" The witch
smiled inwardly; that delivery had been excellent.
The damsel struggled some more as
the witch poured her a goblet of potion.
However, it was to no avail.
More than ever, she wished for a handsome young prince to come. He was due any time now!
The witch forced the potion into
Sylvia's hands, and the it took a lot of effort to make sure none of it spilled
on her dress. It wouldn't do to have a
red stain on it when the prince came.
Trembling with fright, Sylvia took a sip of the foul brew.
It tasted like spaghetti with tomato
Sylvia decided that rat blood and
brains were wonderful delicacies, and drank the rest of the potion
enthusiastically. When she was done,
she smiled, showing all her perfect teeth to the witch, and asked for more.
The witch was quite taken
aback. "No," she said
sternly. Whereupon hearing this, the
princess immediately threw a most improper temper-tantrum.
The witch was
at her wit's end. Not only had the
princess thoroughly enjoyed the potion, the poor sorceress had a sobbing
teenager on her hands. After a bit of
thought, she decided to resort to using her pet dragon. It would make the damsel faint again, and
give her a moment's peace. She opened
the kennel with trembling hands. She
did not like the dragon; it had some very annoying habits that no amount of
time in obedience school could fix.
As soon as the kennel had been
unlocked, the dragon sprung out, jumped on the witch, and started licking her
face, spreading dragon spittle all over it.
The witch wrinkled her nose in disgust.
With a few sharp words and threats to lock the animal in its kennel
again, she made it follow her on its leash inside the house.
She grinned at the reaction the
princess would have when she saw the enormous dragon looming over her. Her grin faded rapidly, however, when the
princess grinned with delight.
"Oh, how cute!" she
squealed, pointing at the dragon, which immediately broke free of the witch's
grasp, bounded over to the damsel, and commenced licking her face. The sorceress rolled her eyes
irritably. It was not a very good day.
Enough was enough, and it was time
for the princess to go home. However,
Morta could not simply deliver her there; it would thoroughly ruin the witch's
reputation. Therefore, she decided to
resort to the most drastic of measures – the handsome prince!
The sorceress frowned; she abhorred
the kissing scenes that the handsome prince would inevitably bring. However, it seemed better than the
alternative: an annoying, blonde, ditzy princess taking a permanent vacation in
her house. Therefore, with that in
mind, she went to the powder room and removed the green makeup and warts from
her face. Then she touched it up with
lipstick and concealer, and put on her angel costume. She looked at herself in the mirror. Thank goodness she was so tall – it fit the role she played. And she had brown eyes – imagine a witch
with blue eyes! Of course, her powers
only extended to broom riding, but so much could be accomplished with good
costuming and sleight of hand.
walked down the stairs to her expansive dungeons and selected her most handsome
prince out of her entire stock. Placing
a sword in his hands, she said, "There is a princess you need to
brave and chivalrous, as all handsome princes are when dealing with pretty
maidens, he said, "As you wish, my fair lady." The witch surreptitiously pulled a lever on
the wall, which gave her a puff of smoke that enabled her to disappear
magically. The prince was completely
She quickly reapplied her green face
paint and warts, and slipped into her witch dress. She rushed out of the powder room just as the prince was cutting
the bonds of the princess. "Stop
right there!" she screamed, in her best evil voice. The prince stopped and looked around, his eyes
dark with anger.
"For the princess Sylvia!"
he cried, brandishing his sword. The
prince rushed toward the witch, his sword raised to chop off her head. A moment before the blade touched her neck,
the witch fell, breaking a jar of tomato sauce at the same time. A pool of red sauce formed around her
head. The prince finished cutting the
princess free, kissed her passionately while the witch tried not to vomit, and
dashed out of the hut.
The sorceress closed the door after
them, grumbling to herself. After she
washed her hair free of tomato sauce, she would take her broom and fly to her
good friend Blair's house to cry about her horrible day. Of course, she would also gloat about her
capture – she did have the lead.
The prince and princess lived
happily ever after.