December 2009 Archive

Old Slipslide, Ctd.

Once upon a time, the daughter of a mermaid and a water park aficionado was catapulted into a wave pool to the lair of a half-man, half octopus. Upon meeting, the aforementioned creature welcomed her home, much to her horror.

“I’m Old Slipslide,” he introduced himself. “And I look forward to having you as my wife.”

“Old Slipslide? That sounds sort of dirty,” she said.

“Dirty? How so?” he asked.

“Nevermind,” she replied, “What’s all this wife business?”

And Old Slipslide explained, slowly and patiently, that by darting into his underwater home, the girl had consented to be his wife. And he was very glad she had, for she had the cutest little nose he ever did see. He assured her that there was no escape, and then shuffled off to prepare dinner.

At first, she scoffed at his promise, and made for the door, the window, and the interesting catapult device he used every day to go out and get the paper. But sure enough, everything was locked with a combination she had to admit, after many tries, she just could not figure out. And eventually, she got sort of comfortable living at the bottom of a wave pool. Old Slipslide turned out to be a pretty good cook, and his idea of marriage was apparently watching movies together while eating dinner.

But from time to time, she saw faces she recognized in the newspaper — her old sweetheart’s, or her father’s, and she realized she very much missed her old life. But how was she going to escape?

After ruling out any real escape plans, she tried something simple. She made comments, left notes, sang songs, all around the same general theme: I miss my dad, and this house is so stuffy, maybe we could open a window every once in a while? Finally, Old Slipslide obliged by opening a window, and the girl darted out and swam to the surface before he realized what was happening.

Back home, she was received warmly indeed by her father and her former sweetheart, whom she immediately agreed to marry even though she supposed she was technically still married to Old Slipslide. But she didn’t worry about it, because she was so very happy to have her old life back.

For a little while, anyway.

After a few months, she found that she was a little annoyed by her new fiancee, she missed having her own space, and she even sort of missed Old Slipslide. Her sweetheart was not a good cook, as it turned out, and loved to have romantic evenings dancing in the moonlight, which was nice at first, but had gotten old really fast. However, she was happy to be with her father again, and she did not really miss living underwater or being held captive.

The solution presented itself to her all at once. During a particularly bad bout of dancing atop the water slide, she asked her sweetheart to pause while she scribbled off a note: “Come see me if you’re ever on the outside”.

She taped the note to his jacket and immediately shoved him down the slide. He flew off in a spectacular manner and landed in the middle of the wave pool.

She smiled, and then she waited.

The End.

Source: Old Rinkrank, Brothers Grimm

Old Slipside

Once upon a time, a man who loved water parks hooked up with a mermaid in a wave pool.

Nine months later, she turned up at his door with a baby girl. He inquired, as politely as he could in his mostly shocked and somewhat suspicious state, but neither the mermaid nor the baby could provide a particularly helpful answer.

Left alone with the mermaid’s baby, the man did the only thing he could think of: he built a cottage to keep her in, and on top of it built a great plastic structure with water streaming down it. When the neighborhood kids begged to have a ride on it, he realized that the thing he had built to keep his daughter safe was, in fact, a water slide. And an excellent one, at that.

For years, the neighborhood children annoyed him. They always wanted to ride on the waterslide, or see the waterslide, or throw someone bothersome down the waterslide. But that was nothing, he realized later, compared to what they annoyed him about later.

You see, his daughter had grown to be very pretty indeed, and though she only rarely went out, she attracted more male attention than her father was comfortable with. Finally, he was forced to deal with the situation in the most logical way he could think of: he declared that no boy could date his daughter unless he managed to climb to the top of the water slide while the water was on.

For a while, the arrangement worked out quite nicely: any number of intrepid suitors declared at the foot of the slide how they intended to brave the slide and capture the heart of the girl, and then inevitably plunged to the ground after only a few steps.

It was a very good slide.

However, eventually, the thing he feared most happened: his daughter favored one of the young men, and arranged, behind her father’s back, to help him make his way up the water slide.

She reached out for his hand at the appointed time and place, and he very nearly made it. But when he finally managed to grab her hand, he slipped in the water and flew down the slide, dragging the girl with him. At some point, their hands broke apart, and she gained so much momentum that she flew into the air, over the water park and into the wave pool, where she disappeared in a giant gurgle.

Her father was none too pleased with the suitor who had done her in, however unintentionally.

Meanwhile, the girl sank further and deeper into the wave pool than she would have thought possible, and when she finally hit the bottom, she found herself face to face with an old man who seemed to have scales and the body of an octopus.

“Welcome home,” the creature said, and grinned.

The End. For now…

Source: Old Rinkrank, Brothers Grimm

At the Pumpkin Ball

Once upon a time, a girl earned the help of a bird, a squirrel and a hippopotamus by sharing her snacks, even though she really really wanted them. In return, those animals helped her sneak out and attend the Pumpkin Ball, the most magical festival of the season.

And it was just as magical as she expected. The Ball was held outdoors, despite the autumn chill, with a large tent assembled in case of rain. Glowing orange bulbs hung from the rafters, and wooden tables lined the walls. At the center, the floor was open for dancing, and at the head of it all sat the Pumpkin Throne.

Every year at the Pumpkin Ball, a Pumpkin Queen was chosen from the throngs of party goers and given the chance to preside over the festivities, deciding the dances, the songs, the games. It was magical indeed, as long as the Pumpkin Queen was not the sort to favor quiet games of cards or music with too much bass.

But that year, it seemed as though things were going to be different. It started out magically enough: the lucky girl was chosen, crowned, and led to the throne. But once she was seated, things started to go wrong. The commands she issued had nothing to do with the Ball or dancing or games. They were political in nature, and also, sort of evil.

And then she noticed the eyes. Everyone around her had red eyes, and all were staring adoringly at their new Queen.

She began to feel a little suspicious. And then she began to feel a little bit scared, as everyone else looked suspicious at her. Assuming of course that dozens of red eyes staring her down as if she’d just changed the channel without asking, meant they were suspicious.

“Not on the guest list!” someone cried, before they began to chase her.

“Not on the guest list!” they chanted, as they removed rifles, spears and pitchforks from petticoats and topcoats and trench coats.

And then she ran. It seemed the only logical thing to do.

And at some point, amidst the running and hiding and occasional taunting, something important occurred to her.

She wasn’t on the guest list.

She hadn’t been expected.

So whatever had afflicted her fellow townsfolk was not afflicting her, and therefore, she was the only one who could do anything.

At that point, she stopped running. She waited until the crowd caught up, and demanded to see the Queen. And when the Queen appeared, all red eyes and orange finery, the girl challenged her.

“A teasing contest,” she declared. “For the town.”

And so it began. Long into the night, it seemed, they insulted each other’s hair, clothes, intelligence, girth and mothers. Finally, the Queens crumpled and burst into tears. All around her, the townspeople returned to normal. They crowned their new Queen, and finished the night with food, dancing and games.

Far later into the night, everyone started to make their way home, laughing and talking, so that they hardly noticed her.

Even the girl almost didn’t noticed the former Queen crouching in the bushes, waiting.

She wondered how long she would wait.

© Beatrix Cottonpants Original