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Cinderella Pumpkin Part 1

Once upon a time there was a poor serving pumpkin called Cinderella…

who dreamed of growing up to be a real wooden boy, marry a prince and transform him into a disgruntled mermaid by kissing him under a pile of pee soaked mattresses.

Buttlaxia, Cinderella’s cruel stepmother, would never allow that dream to come true. She was afraid of dreams. If Cinderella’s dream came true then maybe the dream she had about being abducted and forced to join Hanson by frankfurter sausage clowns in a hybrid car ( half electric, half pie ) would come true too. Also, she was jealous of the perfect pumpkin. Cinderella was so much prettier than her two ugly daughters, Repulsel and Clive, who was a goat for tax reasons.

So, Buttlaxia made Cinderella do all the chores and never let her leave the house, even duct taping the beautiful squash to a stick so as to clean the chimney above the fireplace in which Cinderella was forced to sleep.

One day a proclamation was posted throughout the land. The prince was seeking bride and all suitors were invited to try to win the prince’s heart at the Royal Palace Christmas Ball. Second prize was said to be a blu ray player.

Repulsel and Clive …

were not interested in any blu ray player. The sisters were so ugly that life automatically pixelated them and they did not understand what high definition was. Besides they were both convinced the Prince would choose them as they mistakenly believed him to be a Mormon. Their week was a busy one full of giggling, breaking mirrors and trying on dozens of pretty dresses in order to each find the perfect outfit to break the prince’s heart, an outfit should probably feature a hood.

The night of the ball arrived …

and Cindy’s wicked family rode off to the gala event in the fanciest carriage, a carriage hired with stolen money left to Cinderella by her father after he died suspiciously in a freak ratatouille accident. Cinderella was left all alone in the house. She felt as low as she had ever been except on the occasions she was made to clean the basement. Cinders would have loved to experience the prince’s balls but it was an impossible dream for a pumpkin duct taped to a stick in a fireplace.

What Cinderella did not know, however, was that she had a vegan fairy godmother who had inexplicably done nothing until now because of a drinking problem.

There was a knock at the door.

“Good Evening peculiar old apple seller whom reeks of whiskey”, said Cinderella welcomingly.

” … No! … I am not an owl cell phone cellar on the sea shore … I am *hic* yous thirdly dog muffler!” slurred the old lady, ” And you shall have balls! ”

There was a puff of purple silver flecked smoke, the fairy godmother excused herself for being a bit gassy and then cast a spell.

Cinderella was violently propelled into the fireplace.

Sooty mists surrounded her and the world faded to gray. Then to slightly darker gray. Then a little darker still. … Basically the world faded through about fifty shades of gray before everything went black and Cinderella was gone. Gone from the very face of the kitchen!

“Oh Pixie Butter! I forgot to tell her how the magic works.” thought the farty godmother seconds before yawning colorfully into the sink and passing out on the cat.

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Nick Jackson was born in the UK, the land of gunpowder tea, but moved to America to escape exploding cups of tea. He now lives in Florida where he attempts come to terms with concepts such as how flat everything is and whether the alligator is a golfer's natural predator. Nick has written for Monkey Pickles from the beginning, as established in Cern, Switzerland, with the discovery of the long-sought Monkey Pickle Particle. He is somewhat "freaked out" by writing in the third person. Nick is motivated to write for the pleasure of the experience rather than to pay the bills, but he does recognize that pleasure is still not an acceptable method of payment in most respectable retail outlets. He hopes to raise a smile or two before being ejected from the store.
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